#but my baby Alice is STRESSED and she misses me

[wewontbesleeping]

I MISS MY CAT

#my bfs mom is watching our cats #and the boys are doing well and having fun #but my baby Alice is STRESSED and she misses me #my heart is BREAKING #I miss her so much #I’m having sooooo much fun in Spain #and I would never want to come home #if it wasn’t for my sweet little baby girl!!!! #I hope she knows I didn’t abandon her and I’m coming back #I love her so much!!!!

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - chapter eight

you know you never stood a chance series

eight: in this world, it's just us

series masterlist | prev chapter | epilogue

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 4.8k

Summary: Joel and Ellie return to Jackson.

Warnings: vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), like one spank, cum eating, Joel is mean/bad with feelings (but he gets a little better!), this is not canon compliant, no use of y/n, description of injury, two idiots at the end of the world learn to communicate, author is ugly crying because this is the end

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

They’d told you last night, of course, when Joel and Ellie showed up at the gates. Tommy had come to your door himself. When he knocked in the middle of the night, you had assumed the worst. Not that the real news made you any less anxious.

They were planning on having a little welcome home dinner, nothing fancy, but something fun for the kids. Maria thought maybe it was a good time to take Alice up on her offer to babysit, since she’d have to get used to it sooner or later.

But then Alice volunteered to help do the cooking, and Maria wasn’t sure who else to ask.

“I’ll do it,” you said immediately.

She raised an eyebrow at you, which made you squirm. “Don’t you think you should be there?”

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll see Ellie around,” you said, giving her an overly-fake smile that clearly said, “don’t.”

“Uh-huh. That’s your call. But if you want to volunteer for diaper duty…”

“I’d love to. You should go, have some fun.”

“You sure you don’t want to come? Ellie was askin’ if you’d be there,” Tommy says.

“No, I’m sure. Y’all go on and have a good night. I promise we’ll be okay here,” you say, with little baby Alé cradled in your arms.

Tommy sighs and pinches his forehead in a way horribly reminiscent of his brother. And, of course, “It’s just—” he says, “I know y’all didn’t exactly part on good terms, but my brother, he’s got a weird way of showin’ he cares and—”

“Tommy,” your tone is warning. “For the last time, it wasn’t like that.”

“I saw y’all kissing,” he blurts.

You’re honestly surprised he kept his mouth shut for the last six months.

“No, you saw him try to make himself feel better after I got mad. Ain’t the same thing. Now y’all go on, go do whatever old married couples in the apocalypse do for a good time. And don’t tell me about any of it.”

They each kissed the baby’s forehead before they left, Tommy promising one of them would be back soon.

It’s heading toward summer, the nights not quite so chilly anymore, so you swaddle Alé and go to the rocking chair on the porch. The street is dark, though you can see the soft glow of the mess hall in the distance.

It’s not so dark that you don’t see him walking. His gait is off, not quite a limp, but you’d know that shadow anywhere—the broad shoulders, the puff of hair, the way he seems to hunch into himself to hide away.

“You’re going the wrong way,” you say before he can set off with whatever stupid thing he was about to say.

“Nah, I’m not.”

“Dunno if you heard, but they’re throwing you a party. You’re kind of supposed to be there.”

“So’re you.”

“Nope, I’m babysitting. Got better things to do tonight than look at your ugly mug.”

He shakes his head, standing now at the bottom of the porch steps. The single lamp flickers across his face, drawing shadows where the stress and age eat away at him.

You look away, down to the baby and the peace over her tiny face, softly breathing through dreamless sleep. Or whatever it was that babies dream about.

“Look—”

“Joel, if I wanted to talk to you, I would have shown up.”

“I’ll just keep comin’ back.”

“I’ll tell Tommy.”

“You can’t threaten me with my own brother.”

“Ok, I’ll tell Maria.”

“Damn,” he shakes his head. “You got me there.”

“Go away, Joel. Go enjoy your party.” It’s softer than you meant it to be, and when his eyes catch yours, you know he didn’t miss that.

He gives you a nod, jaw ticking, and walks away. You want to feel victorious, and you do; it just stings all the same.

Maria comes home after an hour and a half. She’s got impeccable timing, as Alé has just begun to stir and realize that you are, unfortunately, not her mother. Nor do you have milk to offer her. Her little face rubs against your shirt while she begins to wail.

“You got a sixth sense about that,” you tell Maria.

She laughs. “Guess I do.”

“It’s kind of neat,” you say. “Like even after decades of technology and convenience, our bodies still know what to do.”

“It is,” she says absentmindedly, and she’s looking at you in a way you do not want to be looked at right now, so you gather up your jacket and your book.

“Okay, cool, hope you had fun, good night!” You make it as far as opening the screen door before she stops you.

“He come by?”

Your mouth drops open. “You betrayed me!”

“Of course I didn’t. Seriously? It was Tommy.”

“That little rat.”

“You wanna go tell him off? He’s still down at the hall.” She’s got a glint in her eye again, the one that makes you feel both laughed at and cared about.

“You’re not funny,” you say, shaking your head and rolling your eyes.

“It was an accident. He did good when Joel asked about you, but then he asked about Alé.”

You laugh, something warm and fond in your chest, even if your heart keeps ticking up a notch. You turn the knob of the front door.

“They liked your gift.”

Damn it, how does she keep doing that? You pause your escape and look up at her, finding honesty there.

“Ellie liked it?”

“They both did,” Maria says, and tells you how several of the townsfolk had, in fact, not liked it, but Joel and Ellie sure did.

You weren’t sure you were actually going to give it to him, time and irritation having grown into anxiety over it. But other people were giving housewarming gifts, and to be fair, you had made it for Joel.

The quilt was folded neatly and tied with twine. Most of it was an array of colors, working with what scraps could be spared. Maria had assured you that keeping folks warm was always a good use.

He hadn’t noticed, at first. She thought maybe he was having some kind of attack, actually, when Tommy told him it was from you. He had gone oddly blank and frozen for a minute. After he came back to himself, he had run his fingers over the worn, soft fabric, and then cleared his throat and moved on.

Ellie didn’t. She was chilly and pleased as punch to have a blanket. When she unfolded it to spread across her lap, she burst out laughing.

“The hell’s the matter with you?” Joel asked her.

She was laughing too hard to breathe, let alone answer him, so he stomped over.

You had saved all the white squares to spell “fuck you” in block letters across the middle of the quilt.

For a moment, he stood there, just staring at it. But between the way it made his chest feel like it was full of bubbles and the way Ellie was now pointing at his dumbfounded expression and laughing so hard she was crying, he couldn’t help it. He joined her, absolutely fucking falling apart in hysterics.

“No way,” you scoffed at Maria when she reached that part of her retelling.

“Yeah. He lost it. Scared some of the kids.”

It doesn’t take him long to notice. He figures he still had an internal sensor wired to be aware of your presence. A safety feature turned bug.

You’re leaning against the wall across the room, just watching. Taking them in from a safe distance. Ellie sees where he’s looking and jumps up, running over.

She throws her arms around your neck and hugs you. You hug her back, the rush of relief at her well-being overtaking you.

“I’m glad you’re still here,” she says

“I’m glad you’re back. And you’re okay?”

She nods and opens her mouth, then looks around at the hall full of people.

“S’ok, you can tell me everything tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Sure thing, kiddo. I’m on patrol in the morning, but I’ll find you after.”

“No, you’re not,” Tommy says, coming up behind you and clapping a hand on each shoulder. He’s looking over Ellie’s shoulder, where Joel hovers on the other side of the room, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Ain’t this your party? Go have fun,” he says to Ellie.

You watch as she bounds over to Joel and points to you, like he hadn’t seen you first.

Tommy gives your shoulders a squeeze and leans in close. “Look, I know ya said you weren’t scared, but you look it. You don’t gotta tell me anything, but if you need me to keep him away from you, just say the word.”

Not for the first time, your heart clenches with fondness, and you duck out of his grasp so you can turn to face him.

“Don’t worry about me,” you say, trying to put as much earnestness into the words and your eyes as you can.

“M’serious. He’s my brother, and I love him, but I know he’s not always done the best things and—“

“Hey.” The sharp tone of your voice stops his rambling. “Thank you, Tommy, seriously. But I promise it’s fine.”

Joel wasn’t going to bother you again. He wasn’t. But then he caught Tommy shooting him a suspicious look over your shoulder, and he can’t stop himself from making his way over.

Tommy’s telling you about your shift change tomorrow, something about having to swap someone to cover for Sam, which turned into a whole mess of scheduling. You’ve been bumped to dinner duty, which is fine by you anyway.

You don’t get to tell him that, though. Something flickers across his face, a wrangled mess of hurt and happiness. It’s the only warning you got.

“Y’ain’t over here botherin’ her, right?” Joel says gruffly.

You roll your eyes. “You two are somethin’ else.”

Tommy rubs the back of his neck, but Joel says, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You spin around to stare him down, arms crossed over your chest. “It means I don’t need either of you playin’ bodyguard, but especially not you.”

“If ya came here just to yell at me, let’s go outside.”

“Fine,” you snap. You hadn’t, actually, but then again, he’s always done this, crawled up under your skin like a tick.

And so you find yourself in a sick copy of six months past, standing and glaring at Joel outside the mess hall, arms folded across your chest.

“Well, go on then,” he says.

You open your mouth to say something mean, anything really, but what comes out is, “Is Ellie really okay?”

He opens and shuts his mouth. “Uh, yeah,” he says, and rubs the back of his neck. “She will be. She’ll be pissed if I tell you everything without her, but we had a real rough go of it, coupla close calls.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, seeing their mangled bodies from your nightmares. You take a deep breath and find him watching you with a pinched brow and a deep-set frown.

“And you? You’re okay too?” you say.

“Yeah, a’course. I’m fine.” He pauses and scratches his beard. “Look, m’not sorry.”

“Fine.” You turn to walk away, to go back and grab your things and get out of there before Tommy can see that you’re upset.

“Now, just hold on a minute,” Joel says, jogging to follow after you. “You hear me out.”

“No thanks. I don’t need an excuse, Joel. We don’t owe each other a damn thing.”

“Can you just stop bein’ a stubborn brat for two goddamn minutes? I’m tryin’ to tell you something.”

You spin around to face him with a nasty sneer you hadn’t worn the whole time Joel was gone. “Maybe I don’t want to hear anything you have to say to me.”

He pushes you up against the wall. It’s not rough, but he’s got a firm grip on your shoulders, and for one fleeting moment, you think about yelling for help. He must see something in your eyes because he drops his arms to his sides and steps back.

“Wasn’t gonna—I wasn’t gonna hurt you.” He mumbles the last bit to the ground, can’t look you in the eye, can’t see fear on your face for the first time.

“Wait,” you say as he turns to leave. “I know you weren’t, Joel.” You can’t look at him either, voice quiet. “I’m just not used to people touching me like that anymore.”

“I’m not—I swear—”

“I know. Joel,” you sigh and look up at the stars, wishing you believed in any higher power to ask for a little guidance. But you don’t; you’ve seen enough that all you trust is your own two feet on the ground and the whole damn Miller clan.

You scuff the toe of your boot in the dirt. “Why’re y’all like this?” you grumble.

“What?”

Whoops. You hadn’t actually meant to say that out loud. You sigh again and look up at him. “We can’t fight. I don’t want Alé to think her uncle and auntie can’t get along.”

“Auntie?”

“Yeah. Your dumb ass left me here with your brother as a watchdog. What did you think was gonna happen?”

Truth be told, he didn’t know. Didn’t really know Tommy anymore. “That’s good,” he says after a moment. “I’m glad ya weren’t alone.”

“Oh, I tried. He’s a persistent little fucker.”

He looks up at you and sighs, shaking his head. “I’m still not sorry,” the words come out fast, like he knows he’s got thirty seconds before you run away again. “Nearly died too many damn times. Don’t think I could’ve gotten us all out alive.”

You’ve thought about this moment more than you’d like to admit. Thought about the things you were going to say, the cruel ways you could dig between his ribs and pry. Thought about slapping him in the face, even. But in the end, you’re too tired of it all to consider any of it.

“If you wanna talk, let’s go someplace and talk.”

It catches him off guard. You feel spitefully pleased that he doesn’t know what to expect from you. But it stings a little, too.

You end up going back to his place. Tommy had wasted no time helping get things set up for them to have a home, hopeful that it would keep them there.

You make tea in his kitchen, using the things he didn’t know he had. He accepts a mug of it, even though it’s decaf.

“Too late for you to be having caffeine anyway,” you scold when he grumbles.

He sits down across from you at the dining table, mug wrapped in both hands. You take a moment to look at him. He looks more than six months older. He’s gone grayer, and there are new scars, new marks on him that you don’t recognize.

He looks away from your scrutinizing, tapping fingers against his mug, and shakes his head. “I ain’t got a thing to say for myself. I’m not sorry I left you here, but I am sorry I hurt you.”

Your mouth runs off without you. “Holy shit. Who are you, and what’ve you done with Joel Miller? An apology?”

But he doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t roll his eyes and call you a brat. Instead, he looks down at the table and purses his lips.

It makes you shift in your seat, legs turning automatically to angle for a better escape route. “Hey,” you say, swallowing hard. You wait until he looks up. “It is what it is. I didn’t have any delusions about what this was.” You gesture loosely between you.

“I mighta.”

You feel a lot like the time your sister pushed you off the diving board at the neighborhood pool, limbs flailing until you landed flat on your stomach in the water. “Run that by me again?”

“I got it in my head that you were mine. And then I didn’t like that much, so I told myself I was doin’ what was best for both of us.”

It’s your turn to purse your lips, but you don’t look away, afraid that if you do, he’ll stop talking.

He sighs again. “Look, I ain’t good at this. But I care about ya, okay?”

“Joel—”

“I know you’ve got a life here, now. Don’t know if you’ve got any room in it for me. But Ellie knows it’s my fault you didn’t come, so don’t go pushin’ her away, okay?”

“Joel—”

“And I know you got close with Tommy. I’ll just meet up with him somewhere you’re not, tell him he’s gotta warn you if I’m comin’ over or something.”

“Joel!”

He shuts his mouth, eyes wide.

“God, when you get going, you get going. I don’t think you’ve ever said so many words to me in a day, let alone one sitting.” It’s not what you meant to say. It’s never what you mean to say, and usually, you don’t care about your runaway tongue, but right now, you really want to say the right thing.

You’re not so far. He’s shutting down quick, you can see the walls going back up as he works his jaw back and forth.

“Joel,” you try again, softer. “You don’t have to do all that. I care about you, too. I spent so long trying not to that when you gave me an excuse to hate you, I jumped on it. I’m not any good at this, either.”

He watches your face carefully, peeling his fingers away from his mug and reaching the hand across the table. His warm hand slides between your own and your mug. He cradles it, your right hand in his left. Your breath catches.

You stare at where you connect, his broad palm covering yours. There are fucking butterflies in your stomach, like you’re a fucking teenager. Your ears and the back of your neck burn as you have to bite your lip to keep from grinning.

“What’s so funny?” He starts to pull back.

You tighten your grip and hold on, giving in to the urge to smile. “Not laughin’, Miller. Just,” and you shake your head. “We’re too damn old to be so stupid about this.”

He shakes his head, jaw twitching, before his own smile peeks through. “Y’ain’t wrong.”

You sit there for a few minutes, the silence warmed by your still-steaming tea and clasped hands.

“I know you said we don’t owe each other anything,” he says slowly. “But I was thinkin’ maybe I owe you a better kind of apology.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna get on your knees and grovel for me?”

His smile curls into a dangerous smirk. “I’m gonna get on my knees, but you’re gonna be the one beggin’, sweetheart.”

“Don’t make promises you aren’t going to keep.”

He pulls his hand from yours and takes both mugs, dumping them down the sink while you protest. But you don’t whine about it for long, because he turns and quirks an eyebrow at you. “If you’d hurry up, I was plannin’ on making good on that promise right now.”

You let him pull you up the stairs, trying to leave your anxieties behind on the landing. He’s kissing you before the bedroom door is shut, sliding his hands up your shirt to hold onto your bare waist.

“This okay, darlin’?”

You nod, bumping your nose against his in your eagerness to recapture his lips. You think he meant to go slow, but it doesn’t work out. Neither of you really know how, anyway, though you think maybe you’d like to learn.

Once he has you peeled out of your jeans and tee, he sits you on the edge of the bed and goes to make good on his promise.

“Wait,” you say, even though the last thing you want him to do is stop.

He freezes, worry written in the lines of his face.

“You can’t really be on your knees like that, Joel; they’ll be so swollen tomorrow.”

“S’worth it,” he grunts, trying to bat off your hands where they’ve wrapped their concern in his shirt.

“Nah, get up here,” you say, tugging until he eases himself back up.

“Fine, I got a better idea anyway,” he says, laying back on the pillows and pulling until you straddle him. “Get up here, sweetheart.”

You feel like you’ve come down with a fever, body gone hot but shivering from the cold. “Um, what?”

He shakes his head, mostly at himself. Of course you don’t know what he wants; he’s the only person in this godforsaken world that’s eaten your cunt.

“Come sit on my face, baby. Let me taste you. And no, y’ain’t gonna hurt me, just get up here.”

You shuffle forward until he loses his patience and yanks on your hips, jerking you forward so you have to catch yourself on the headboard. It works out anyway since he doesn’t give you any time to settle before he’s pulling you down. He licks right into your cunt, not wasting any time, before licking up to suck at your clit.

You cry out and apologize as your hips jerk forward.

“S’good, baby, take what you need,” he says, hot breath against your cunt before he gets back to work. He has you falling apart in no time, greedily lapping at everything you offer.

“Anyone touch you while I was gone?” he growls, nipping at your clit.

You cry out and grind down into his mouth, but he pulls back a little and slaps your ass.

“I asked you a question.”

“No, no one,” you gasp, trying again to reach his mouth.

He rewards you with his tongue, licking and sucking and biting until you give him another orgasm.

“Why’s that, pretty girl? Surely you could have fucked your way through this town by now.”

“Don’t—ahh—didn’t want anyone else.” His mouth has you confessing like your mama used to insist on when you were little. Admitting your most shameful secrets in the dark room. “Never did.”

He leans back to talk again, and you whine, a truly desperate, pathetic enough sound that he forgets what he had to say and gives you what you want.

He doesn’t quit until your thighs are shaking with the effort. He taps your leg to get you to slide off and immediately flips your positions so you’re caged under his body.

You bring your hands up to his biceps, gliding them over his broad shoulders, and cup his face. He leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead as he slides into your warm, welcoming cunt. He pulls his head back a little to watch as he presses inside, drinking up the way your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, muscles tightening against the stretch.

“Shh, baby, just relax. You can take it,” he kisses down your neck as he whispers. “I know it’s been a while, but that pretty little pussy can fuckin’ take it.”

You’re trembling under him, twitching and writhing as he kisses and bites across your collarbone and down to your breasts. He works himself deeper, sucking on your nipples until you cum again, muscles loosening just enough until his cock is buried to the base.

“Fuck,” he bites out, gritting his teeth and grinding into you. “Fuckin’ hell, I missed you.”

He catches the look in your eye and cuts you off. “And not just your cunt, either, smartass.”

You grin, and he kisses you, licking inside like he can wipe away your smugness.

You break away and kiss his neck up to bite his earlobe. “You fuckin’ like it.”

The look he gives you is overwhelmingly fond. It feels like something cracks inside your sternum.

“Yeah, I do,” he says.

You bury your face in his neck, biting down on the tendon on a particularly rough thrust. “You can’t just say shit like that, Joel. You’re gonna make me think you like me.”

“I don’t know how else I gotta say it, baby. I like you.”

You whimper, and he doesn’t press you to respond. Doesn’t need to. Instead, he brings his hand down to worry at your sore clit, brushing gently as you arch up, squirming both toward and away from the overstimulation.

“One more, gimmie one more,” he demands, pace increasing. Your body, as always, listens, and as your cunt grips him, he pulls out to spill on your pussy, coating your coarse curls in his spend.

He doesn’t leave you time to wonder if he’ll go back to cleaning you up now that there’s running water. He slides down, crouching, and licks your combined mess before climbing back up to kiss you and share the salty tang of your pleasures.

He doesn’t leave you time to wonder if he’ll kick you out, either. “Stay,” he murmurs against your lips. “Please.”

You nod, letting him melt you into the mattress with his soft touches.

He gives you his shirt to sleep in, his possessive post-orgasm brain demanding to mark you further. Unfortunately, he didn’t think it through, because that’s when you see it.

“What the fuck is that?” you ask, pointing at the still-pinkish scarring.

“Oh, that’s nothin’,” he says, arms dropping to lay across it in maybe the least casual way you’ve ever seen.

But you’ve got something sharp behind your eyes, something calculating. “You said you were fine.”

“I am fine. Quit your worryin’.”

“Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll hear it from Ellie tomorrow. Unless you want a chance to give me your version of the story.”

He groans and covers his face with both hands. “Fine. I fell and had a run-in with a bit of rebar. But I’m fine now.”

“You keep sayin’ that, making it sound like you definitely were not fine at one point.”

He thinks you’re going to be mad all over again, that you’ll say there was something you could have done, had you been there.

“I was fine until I wasn’t. We got it out, Ellie stitched me up, and we rested until I was better.”

“And the part you don’t want to tell me?”

“It got infected. Sepsis or some kind of bacteria. It wasn’t… it didn’t look good. Honestly, I don’t remember much of it.” He chances a look at you, and the tight feeling in his chest starts to creep in.

“Joel,” you whisper. You purse your lips, eyes scrunching, and take a shaky breath through your nose.

“Darlin’, please. I don’t—I can’t do this right now. Ya can’t cry like this right now.”

You close your eyes and take a few breaths. “Okay. But promise you’ll tell me everything another day?”

“I promise. C’mon, lay down.” He tugs at your wrist, and you let your body follow, curling up to his bare chest.

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“Nah, I’m tellin’ you. It’s fine now.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head and then helps himself to another at your lips. “Stop that,” he says when your eyes well up again.

“M’sorry. It’s just been a helluva fuckin’ day.”

“I know, baby. But you can rest now, okay? I got you.”

You don’t have to look far to find Ellie in the morning. She’s sitting at the kitchen table when you come down in just Joel’s shirt and your panties. Luckily, it’s long enough to cover everything, but you both freeze for a moment, staring at the other’s wide eyes.

“Come on,” she groans. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? One night. You couldn’t go one night?” She’s thrown a hand over her eyes.

“I’m not naked, you drama queen,” you say, setting the kettle on.

“It’s so gross; he’s so old,” she groans.

“I’m not that much younger,” you remind her.

“Yeah, but you’re like, cool and stuff.”

“Sorry, honey,” you say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her hair. “I’m not that cool, either.”

She lets her head fall against the table. “Nope, can’t do it. I’m going to the mess for breakfast. Please, both of you be dressed, and like, six feet apart when I get back.”

You just laugh, digging through the cabinet for clean mugs as she grabs her bag and flees.

“What’s all the ruckus?” Joel asks, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist while you pour the tea.

“Oh, just traumatizing the teenager all over again.” You crane your neck to press a kiss to his cheek, but he catches you and steals it from your mouth instead.

“Be careful,” you murmur. “I could get used to this.”

“I fuckin’ hope so,” he says, “‘Cause I could get used to this. Pretty girl in my shirt makin’ me a drink.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, exactly like every day when I lived in your apartment.”

“Well,” he holds you a little tighter, kissing up your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe not exactly like that.”

epilogue

This is the end, y'all. I love you, and thank you so so much.

*title from "As It Was" by Harry Styles

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #you know you never stood a chance series #the last of us fic #the last of us smut

[august-donovan]

August stared at his reflection as he fumbled with the tangled mess of his necklaces. He felt on edge, his heart racing. It was always like this for the man when it came to social gatherings. And although it would only be him and Matteo, it didn’t help the anxiety that always brewed in the pit of his stomach. Once the necklaces were fixed, he smoothed out the simple black tee he wore, making sure there was nothing out of place for his appearance. Now, he finally caught Addie in the mirror. “You’re staring,” he whispered to her, turning around to face her now that he felt comfortable with his appearance. 

“I’m gazing,” Addie corrected him from her perched position on the couch, her leg swaying back and forth in a lazy fashion. “You look perfect.” 

This caused a smile to fall across the lips of the quiet man. He walked over to his fiancée and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. “I love you,” he said. August rubbed his hands on his jeans, trying to push away the sweat that was forming. “Why did we have to come here?” August asked, glancing around the living room that belonged to his mother. “This is a longer drive for Matteo.” 

Addie climbed off the sofa and stopped in front of her soon to be husband, her tiny hands resting on his strong chest. She stepped on the tips of her toes to kiss him now. “Because,” she whispered after the kiss was broken, “your mother wanted to give me something borrowed for Saturday.” 

“And where is she hiding?” August said with a hasty sigh. The anxiety was setting in hard now. “Momma?” he called out loudly but did not receive a response. 

“Baby,” Addie cooed, kissing him yet again. “You’re going to have an amazing time with Matteo tonight. You’re gonna go get drunk and eat until you’re full.” Addie gave him a fixed expression but her tone remained playful, “There better not be any strippers.” 

This made August smile and he wrapped his arms around Addie, pulling her as close as he could to his frame. This seemed to mute his anxiety for the time being. He kissed her slow and deep, inhaling her strength and love. “No strippers,” he vowed and then gave her his own fixed expression. “And there better not be any strippers at your party. Do I need to call Elyse?” 

The two laughed and kissed again and again. August felt peace consuming his soul now. The arrival of his mother brought the two out of their bubble and August turned to face her as she held out a small box for Addie. “Here’s the hair comb,” Alice said. Addie thanked her and then put the box delicately in her purse on the couch. “August, there’s something for you too,” Alice said nervously. 

“Momma, my hair ain’t long enough for a hair comb,” he joked. Alice laughed but said nothing—shuffling of footsteps could be heard coming down the foyer and into the living room. Ace bounced into the room and clasped hands with his oldest brother, pulling him into a hug. “You didn’t think we’d miss this, did you?” Ace inquired. 

“Us?” August questioned but it was answered without the assistance of Ace. Instead, Adriel revealed himself, smiling at his brother. “Hey August,” he whispered. 

August felt a tidal wave of emotion lift from his chest at the sight of Adriel in front of him. Adriel in California. In their mother’s home. Was he dreaming? “Adriel?” August said in a questionable tone as if Adriel might disappear if he blinked too quickly. He hurried to his younger brother who was actually taller. August’s arms wrapped tightly around Adriel’s neck and held him with all his might. He didn’t want this moment to vanish. “You’re actually here?” August said, his voice broken now. “You’re home.” 

Saying it outloud helped August anchor himself to the moment. He needed the realization that this was not a dream and that his brother was standing in front of him…somehow. All the stress and turmoil of the last five years seemed to disappear in that lingering moment of the brothers hugging. A few moments later, August pulled away to see Adriel. “Are you actually here?” he whispered, wiping the happy tears from his face. “Does this mean you’re free?” 

“I’m a free man,” Adriel said happily, giving August another tight hug. “It’s over, August. It’s all over.” 

August choked on a silent cry, holding his brother for as long as he’d allow. “I’m so sorry for all of this, Adriel.” Adriel stopped him immediately. After all, what was there to apologize for? They were all together again. Once they let go of this hug, August wanted to ask how this happened, but he couldn’t help but laugh now. Adriel walked across the room and gave Addie a hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sis.” 

August caught sight of Addie’s smiling face and realized the answer to his question. She happened. Somehow, she helped make this come true. God, he loved her so much. 

“Knock, knock,” came the familiar voice of Cataleya. “Can I get in on the hugging?” she teased as she waddled towards August. August gasped at the sight of the beautifully pregnant woman. “God, I missed you so much,” August whispered to her. 

The sound of the doorbell chiming broke the happy reunion and Alice clapped her hands. “I bet that’ll be your friend Matteo,” she said, leaving her sons to answer it. 

August held his head in his hands as he looked at Ace and Adriel. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said to them both. His eyes finally drifted to Warren who had stood quietly in  the entrance of the room this entire time. “You too, Warren,” August said to him, pulling him into a tight hug and whispering, “Thank you for keeping him safe.” 

“So, you bitches ready to go get hammered?” Ace said and instantly raised his hands in defense as he looked at Addie. “But no strippers!” 

After saying goodbye to Alice, Cataleya, and Addie, the men left the house to begin the celebration. 

#[august x 24]

[regulus-needs-swimminglessons]

Heya people, yes I am alive and here to celebrate the new Magnus Protocol episode (Ep 12 "Getting off") with my life reaction. So like always, spoilers ahead:

First of all what sort of Titel is that??? Jonny, Alex...do I even wanna know what the episode is about?? Welp let's get into it

Sam...baby...darling...honey... I saw that with all the love in my heart...for fucks sake you gotta stop being such a simp

Don't get me wrong I love Sam even when he makes stupid decisions and I'm happy he got a date and all but god damn it have some confidence dude.

Jack? Another one? The same one from the last episode? You can never tell with Jonny can you? Is Jack going to be the new Michael? Maybe

Good lord another report of Mr bonzo

I'm going to have this stupid song stuck in my head for the next week ;-; 'Mr. Bonzo's on his way, he wants to stay he wants to play "

Okay but like he gotta be part of the Stranger right? I was kinda considering Spiral too but now... that's definitely Stranger material right there

...damn...just yoink of someone's arm I guess lol

The lord yeeth and Bonzo yoinketh way

And there goes the head too, damn okay you go off king lol

Annnd they are trying to fight -_- I get the mental stress that they must be under but like he's already dead guys, it's time to *ruuun*

That's disgusting I'm so here for it lol

Okay so Bonzo is filled with some kind of fluid and rancid meat...but that's still Stranger potential right?

Damn Martin, sorry Noris, you don't have to sound so judgemental, a...mascot... Gotta eat alright, and they could have ran, but no they stayed and now they get munched

Homeboy just stood there and watched lol, should have ran too

Welp at leat he survived

Dude is just mad he can't bartend anymore because his hand got munched and he is so real for that lol

I love Alice so much <3

Gwen is so horrified, like fair but also baby you wanted to be in this...what ever it is...

Honestly probs to her she's asking questions... probably won't do her much good but she tries

Okay Gwen we're getting close to the Tim mentality and that's danger, don't want you to blow up too ;-;

Alice, love, I know you know more and I need you to tell meeeee

Welp that was a fun episode... can't say I'm a big Bonzo fan but I can see the appeal

I need more Colin content, I miss my husband ;-;

Hope y'all are having a good time

Bye

#the magnus protocol #the magnus archives #random thoughts #rambings #Jake won't stop yapping about the Magnus Protocol

[memes-saved-me]

15 Questions

Tagged by @lovebillyhargrove & @neonponders ❤️

Are you named after anyone?

Nope. My mum just liked the name but we do joke that she subconsciously named me and my sister after a Dracula hammer house horror where the two women are named Alice and Lucy because she was a goth lol

When was the last time you cried?

Last night when I was thinking about Joel Miller (tlou) 🤭

Do you have kids?

Nope.

Do you use sarcasm?

Yes. I think it's honestly like a regional dialect thing because everyone takes the piss out of each other where I'm from and sarcasm is one of the way of doing so

What is the first thing you notice about someone?

Normally their voice but I'm shit at recognising accents so not the best thing haha but also hair. Not necessarily as a judgement but I just notice that first and I always remember someone by their hair

What is your eye colour?

Blue.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movies but I prefer bittersweet endings that make me sob and stick with me for a week over happy endings

Any special talents?

I can hear plugs and shit. Like the high pitched squeal some electronics give out that others can't and it drives me insane but is handy knowing when something needs unplugged

Where were you born?

The north of England, baby. North north. Like near Scotland north.

What are your hobbies?

Everything I post on here and like video games and the usual.

Do you have any pets?

Yep.

What sports do you play/have played?

I used to be really into badminton and was pretty good at it but my school never had any clubs and we couldn't afford for like private clubs so I just stopped playing after primary school other than the odd lesson in secondary

Favourite subject in school?

Media Studies because I'd just argue with my teacher about their ridiculous opinions on movies lol

Dream job?

To not have a job. I adore getting up and doing nothing but my hobbies. I work for my days off. There isn't a specific thing I'd love to do but I do love doing artist liaison at events because its stressful but fun and I've met some amazing people through it so yeah I do that on occasion but I couldn't handle it as a full-time thing

@peanut-booi @deedoop @vhagar-apologist @ratbastardbilly @scoobydoo-ghoulschool @thediktatortot @nogitsunbae @imsodishy @dragonflylady77 (I'm busy sorry if I missed you!)

[theramseyloft]

Breaking hiatus a moment because Chirp's 13 birds need to find foster homes by the first of July.

Copied from the message:

"Hey can you think of anyone who would be able to foster a dozen pigeons temporarily? I need to find someone by the first of July, I'm getting kicked off my farm"

"I can cover the cost of shipping and I don't anticipate it would be for longer than a year. It's 6 bonded pairs plus one Jim, so 13 birds total actually. GLPR is overwhelmed and can't help and there's no way I'm going through palomacy."

"FOSTER ONLY Beatrice & Boki:

Beatrice is a rescued German beauty homer hailing all the way from Washington state. She was found in a parking lot, struggling to stand and showing signs of PMV. We don't know where she came from or how she got to where she was, I'm guessing after showing signs of PMV her breeder discarded her. She was taken in by my friend who rehabilitated her until she could be shipped to me in NY. She made a splendid recovery. Beatrice is a very kind hearted bird, but she's no pushover and likes to be high ranking in a flock. She's friendly and confident around humans.

Bea is married to a Russian tumbler cock named Boki who she picked out during her stay at another loft. He's a silly little dude and very social. Boki is incredibly devoted to his wife. They had a healthy, beautiful son together (who now lives happily with a friend). They'd be a wonderful pair for someone who is new to pigeons to foster and try out keeping pigeons. They tolerate confinement and are very easy going and socialable. The one downside is, while they're totally healthy, they should be monitored closely for health issues. Both have a tendency to get poop stuck to their butt feathers and are more susceptible to illness. Beatrice benefits from having her legs (which tend to get try and calloused) and large nares lotioned with coconut oil if she is being kept indoors.

FOSTER ONLY Yuki & Alice:

Group shot at the end

My oldest pair! Yuki was a lost racing homer found by a wildlife rehabber in Rochester, NY. She's solid white and very beautiful. The lovely lady who rescued her got her healthy and then gave her to me so she could be safe in an aviary with other pigeons. She won't land on me, but is very eager to socialize, take treats, and spend time together. She gets my attention if she wants fresh water or more food.

Alice is a dog training survivor that showed up not long after Yuki arrived here. He's a big mostly white pied fellow, boisterous and very flashy. He's not terribly friendly, but is often willing to wrestle and occasionally take his very favorite treats from my hand. His sole reason for living is Yuki, he is so devoted to her! They've had several children together and are so easy to manage. Very healthy. They are high energy and used to having space to fly, but I suspect they would adapt to an indoor lifestyle no problem so long as they have each other. They would be good for a beginner that doesn't mind having hands-off pigeon friends, but wants something bullet proof and robust. These guys don't get sick, they are tolerant of both heat and cold, and don't stress easy.

ADOPT OR FOSTER Skippy & Belva

Belva was an oops baby hatched here out of Carrie. She's a bit of a scruffy little blue checked feral, and very shy, sometimes I worry that she's gone missing but she just is REALLY good at being wherever I'm not when I'm checking on the pigeons. She's timid and tiny.

Her spouse is a suspected hen named Skippy. Skippy was rescued as a squab by my friend in NYC. He briefly partnered with Pitch, a hen out of Dani's lines, while he lived with my friend. He came here to live out his days. He's a funky dude! He looks like a blue checked feral defending from tumblers as he has very short little legs. Skippy is reasonably friendly when his wife is setting but if she's up and active then he has a tendency to become very skittish. These two are very much hands off. I wouldn't advise them for a beginner simply because they are difficult to catch and keep track of their health, though they haven't been sick. They would likely not thrive in a home environment and would be best kept in an aviary.

ADOPT OR FOSTER Freddy & Roy

Group shot at the end

Freddy, formally known as Frito, is a cock out of Dani Ramsey's lines. He's a very striking bird and pretty friendly. He'll land on my shoulder in order to take safflower and will even give my ear kisses if he's waiting for me to get the safflower out of my pocket. It took him a long time to settle down and he isn't trusting of anyone other than me, it takes him a long time to learn that new people are okay.

Freddy is married to Roy, an oops baby and Belva's sister. They aren't terribly attached to one another and tend to flirt with anyone and everyone they can, both Roy and Freddy's favorite fling being Skippy. Roy won't eat out of my hand but she will sit calmly and approach me in the aviary, she doesn't tend to panic if I reach for her. She's a beautiful dark blue with white speckles on her chest. I think these two would adapt to house life, but would be most content in an aviary or loft, particularly one where they'd get to stay with Skippy and Belva as the four birds are very good friends.

ADOPT OR FOSTER Priscilla & Fiona

Despite their names, these two are not hens but both very sassy cocks! Fiona is a rescue feral from Dani Ramsey, he was initially suspected to be a hen but as it turns out he is a very dainty little man! He is full of rage and wants to fight anyone and everyone. He seems incapable of accepting treats or landing on me without biting or slapping, but he's so tiny and cute that I could never be bothered by this.

To my surprise Fiona hooked up with Priscilla, a big white oops baby out of Yuki and Alice. Priscilla is tempered just like his little husband, but bigger and even meaner! Priscilla is also an escape artist, every so often he likes to slip out of the aviary and fly around loose, the bastard! The only one of my pigeons to do this. Luckily, he always comes right back and waits patiently on the door for me to let him in. It amazes me that despite how sassy these boys are, they are so loving and gentle with each other. I rarely see them driving one another and instead they spend most of their time cuddling in the nest, waiting for me to offer them a fake egg to care for. I have no doubt they'd be wonderful foster parents. They would be good house pigeons for anyone, but better suited for an experienced keeper if you intend to keep them in an aviary or loft with a flock given Priscilla's habit of escaping and both their attitudes (they LOVE causing trouble in a flock).

FOSTER ONLY Danny & Carrie

Group shot below

Carrie is my first oops baby, out of my first rescues, Oliver and Piper. She used to be shy but has become more confident in recent years. She won't take food from my hands but does like to hang out and converse with me, cooing quietly when I speak to her.

Her long time lover is Danny, who I am 99% certain is a hen but there's a small chance she could be a cock, she acts like a cock but I've had 4 eggs in her and Carrie's nest so I've always assumed she was a hen. Danny was rescued from under a bridge by my friends in Syracuse when she was just a squab. She had a nasty respiratory infection that took a while for me to treat. She has what seems to be allergies in spring and is prone to respiratory distress, she also is susceptible to coccidia and worms so one must monitor her health closely. Danny is sassy and while she is shy of hands, she does love to interact with me by cooing and dancing when I talk to her. Danny and Carrie should go to an experienced keeper that can monitor Danny's health.

ADOPTION Jim

Jim sure is a pigeon and he hates me! Jim was rescued from a hoarding situation, and his rescuer gave him to me because he didn't apparently get along with their pair of pigeons, I feel like maybe they actually just couldn't stand him anymore. He lives in my room currently and is my nemesis. He is married to my voorburg, but she prefers me over him and does not like hanging out with him, he really needs a mate or person of his own. Jim is VERY sociable and prefers being in a cage, he will active choose to be in a cage rather than free roaming in my room. He is very good at communicating and will loudly let me know if he wants more food or fresh water, and also that he despises my existence. His favorite hobbies include being a dad (he and the voorburg had two kids!), landing on my shoulder to study what I'm doing before wing slapping my face and flying away, landing on my shoulder to poop on me, wing slapping me while I'm trying to nap, wing slapping me until I give him more safflower, and wing slapping me to ask for scritches. No, I don't know why Jim always chooses violence. He could probably be taught manners. Jim is absurdly dense and I would describe him as an onion made out of lead. He is bad at flying and frequently misses landing on my shoulder and instead smacks directly into my face. On one side he has cute little freckles on his face, on the other side he has an angry eyebrow which is the side that he always has facing me. He is perpetually missing two feathers on his tail even after he molts, it's important to make fun of him for this and say he looks lopsided and ridiculous. Jim would be great for a beginner who wants a single house pigeon or to pair with their current pigeon. Really, he is a wonderful and charismatic pigeon who would be sure to make the right person laugh and love him, but you have to have a good sense of humor with this angry little onion.

Roy and Danny

Carrie and Skippy

Fiona, Priscilla, Yuki, Alice, Skippy, and Freddy"

As you all know, The Ramsey Loft is still closed, waiting on the broad spectrum viral panel results.

(I think it's been 4 weeks now? It's honestly all just bleeding together, but I *think* we should hear back next week or the week after?)

Until we hear that it's for sure safe, no birds can leave and no new birds can come in.

So I'm not able to offer to foster any at this time.

Please contact Chirp directly by email via [email protected]

Or text [phone]

[par4noid-android]

open letter to the one who binded my soul to her.

it's almost midnight, and i only can think about how much i miss your dark hazel eyes,

and how i much i miss being sheltered in your arms

/embraced in your soul/

or even that day on the central square of your (village) city

seeing you playing with your baby sis,

and the only thing i could think, was how you would perfectly fit the "my childrens mother" role,

and that thought made my whole heart melt.

i'll always come back here,

to say how much i love you

and how lucky am i,

for having the most beatiful and lovely girl on this entire planet.

for being the one you trusted your life to,

for being your wonderwall whenever things go wrong,

and for being the one you'll party with for every achievement in your (our) life.

my aka ito,

we are just one.

i love you more every breath i take.

i love watching you live,

because you're beautiful doing all the stuff you like to do.

you're beautiful just living!

and you're really beautiful, in all the meanings this word can have,

every little piece of you is beautiful;

your smile,

your nose,

your little eyes,

your curly hair,

your eyebrows,

your little ears,

your smooth skin,

and if i list everything it's beautiful in you, i don't think i would ever stop writing

because every new detail i learn about you,

is one more beautiful thing about you.

you're gorgeous and always will be;

even after waking up by your side for 20 long years,

even when you come home stressed out after a shitty day,

even when you carry our sweet alice in your womb,

even in your worst days,

i'll still look at you the same way i do now,

always.

rebeca, "the one who binds",

the one who binded your family when it was falling to pieces,

the one who brings peace and union anywhere she goes,

the one who gave me hope again,

you are light.

thanks for binding our souls together.

[mahoushoujotechsupport]

time for ep 7

where is sucy

studious akko is here

creature from the black lagoon refs

just a random screenshot cuz i noticed diana and barbara are at the front but kinda removed from everyone else, or at least diana is. wonder where hannah is

iconic diana shot (not gonna lie, i dont actually like this frame lmao)

akko moment

fuck off lady

imagining being thrown into a language class with a bunch of heritage speakers of that language and you’re the only one who’s never spoken it once in your life

all this rewatch is doing is making me really really appreciate akko lol

was about to say if a C is her worst grade shes not actually that bad of a student but then realized this is probably based off the japanese academic grading system wherein a C falls between 60–69% and thats a D in the US and i’m not even gonna bother trying to understand all the different UK-based grading systems lmao

akko face

lmao this is so stupid and yea its played up for laughs but like she did good! like cmon shes never tried magic before coming to luna nova so this is actually commendable

wish we could have seen what diana did lol

imagine going to witch school just to become a plastic surgeon

can we talk about alic kelly 

imagine if we actually got an episode where amanda dragged everyone to a club lol

mushroom juice

good akko faces... also this scene was basically me in college any time i told myself i’d take a quick nap while pulling an all-nighter lol

yea

pipe bomb akko

akko just pissed off astrology girls everywhere

gotta wonder in which way diana’s prediction was supposed to go. like imagine if she was fucking around and meant it quite literally in that she would just leave campus versus hannah and barbara saying she’s gonna drop out

hell, imagine if diana saw her own shared future of akko going after her at the manor lol

still don’t understand how only akko gets in trouble here

lol akko

this is so dumb

how to uplift your students and definitely not bring down their self-esteem, a book by anne finnelan

ok a little admission to make here - the first time i watched this episode i was high and i could not stop laughing at the professor pisces reveal. this whole episode is def one of my favorites

the premise of this whole episode is just so absolutely ridiculous, i love it so much

akko you gay baby

like cmon this is probably the funniest fuckin scene in the entire series

just some looney toons level shit lmao

and props to asenshi for making this pun

do you think ursula thought she might lose her job during this episode?

this episode really solidified this as one of my all-time favorite series lmao

this is why she’s akko’s mom

she did it

esteemed luna nova professors

this episode is just one of the best episodes for showing off what a good little bean akko is. like they’d been screwed even worse if akko had listened to lotte and left the fish family to the poacher

ursula could’ve coward’d her way out of this like later on when akko goes missing, but...

... she stood up for her and despite everything else later on. and look at akko’s face at that 🥺

i didn’t notice for the longest time that every time we see a newspaper after episode 3, we get an update on the shooting star

get owned finnelan

not so fast

this must have been the most hellish week in entirety of akko’s life at luna nova

🥺 🥺 🥺

ok and thats it

i said it above, but this is for sure one of my favorite episodes of the series and it just encompasses a lot of what’s fun about lwa. idk to me when i first watched it, it was like a massive dose of serotonin while i was going through a bit of a very hectic and stressful time and just everything about the show was just something that made me happy 

lol wow can’t believe the girl who strove to make people happy with her magic… makes people happy… with her magic

#gayanimeweed lwa re-watch party #ep 7

[septembersghost]

just saw an edit with scenes from dont worry darling and elvis (mostly the vegas scenes) interspersed with each other to the song borderline by tame impala (specifically: i wonder how i managed to end up in this place/where I couldn't get away/we're on the borderline/caught between the tides of pain and rapture)

and i had like a spiritual awakening or something because wow. and i haven't seen dwd (i've been meaning too promise) so my thoughts were mostly just that's an amazing parallel and ow that hurt me emotionally because i don't really know anything about dwd except what the trailer gave me lol but i thought you'd probably have deeper thoughts about the idea of comparing the two movies/the parallels possibly found in them, so... what do you think about all those things previously mentioned? ✨

oh whoa...you should send me the link to this if you still have it!

okay so, potentially unpopular opinion time, but i thought dwd was quite interesting and had a strong premise and performances (and was very well-directed and strikingly designed visually), it's the ultimate execution of the script where it falters. i appreciated this article from the new yorker about it. i feel like the broader themes of misogyny and oppression weren't served quite as well as the far more intimate study of alice as a person, and the way the love she has with jack gets twisted into something dark, but even still retains a thrall. i'm trying not to say too much because i don't want to spoil it for you! but if you extrapolate it to elvis - victory and las vegas are essentially mirrored settings. the expanse of desert, the glamour yet feeling of emptiness because there's very little beneath the gloss of it, the almost lulling beauty that turns sticky and claustrophobic and isolating. (tbh suspicious minds is such a menacing theme for dwd too, it's just not quite the same time period! we're caught in a trap, i can't walk out, because i love you too much, baby...). you are continually surrounded. continually observed. asked to fit a specific mold, a type of performance. if you falter, if you question it, if you try to escape, it results in pain or punishment. you still try anyway.

somebody call the FBI and tell ’em that he has abducted me, that he has locked me in this golden cage, to keep me here forever with you...the cage is sparkling and extravagant and you are given everything it seems you could possibly want, but you can't fly away. you're wanted and desired, but not for you, more as a symbol, a commodity. you are constantly adored, but it's missing something real at its center. you are searching for connection and it keeps being lost or denied. you give your trust to people who exploit it, or open your heart to those who can't understand or cherish it. the bars are still there and you want to beat yourself against them.

we're on the borderline, caught between the tides of pain and rapture <- this is so galaxy brained, because that constant ebb and flow of pain and rapture, despair and joy, loneliness and love, colors everything that happens and defines both the destruction and the transcendence/triumph discovered there. there's a moment at the very end of dwd (again trying not to be too spoilery) that was utterly heartbreaking and chilling to me, because even after everything she's been through, the depth of love she felt still wraps around her and you know part of her wishes she could turn back, do it differently, but she has to plunge forward. the bravest thing to do is run, even if you have to make a devastating sacrifice to be free.

with elvis, that concept becomes something more...compassionate, or connective because it's aimed directly at us, because we're a part of the story by design. the colonel tells us he died not because of the stress inflicted on him, not because of the pills, he says it was because of how much he loved us, that he could never stop giving himself to us, that it was love. it's not the right takeaway because he cannot understand it, what that love was, and why elvis felt compelled to give that, and why he felt it back so strongly, and why he couldn't bear letting people down. why he still sang with everything he had even when he could barely stand up. that moment when the switch flips and we go from the last moment of austin to the real elvis, his last performance, his real words, and it's so powerful, and he's singing unchained melody interspersed with actual footage and the speech he gave. every dream i've ever had has come true a hundred times…so i keep singing a song…i need your love…i'll be coming home, wait for me...that's where that thesis of the film shines through to me (and makes me weep), the legacy there and that everlasting love. that's where the revelation and freedom for him lies, unlike alice's, which is hers alone and must shed its audience, we carry it for him.

both stories examine misuse and manipulation of others, and the dangers of false ideals and expectations, and the rot at the center of the so-called american dream, and the way certain confines can erode a person's spirit, and how hard that spirit will still try to persevere and fly away. (i was also hit tremendously with a parallel on this theme between elvis and moulin rouge today! i might make a post about it.) both stories examine the fragile line between rapture and destruction, between love's dual nature and its unavoidable gravity.

#this is so intriguing and devastating to me ahhhhh #i love you calling this like a spiritual awakening. e would enjoy that #anonymous #letterbox #elvis #don't worry darling #i was a dreamer

[myrequestblog]

Cheater Cheater

(On Hiatus!)

(Rated mature due to trigger warnings such as cheating and forced marriage)

Sunlight shone through the window, and hit your face. You try to block the sun, but it blinds you regardless. The bed heaves as your husband sits up. You had just gotten married a few months ago. It was an arranged marriage. Your family wanted a power, his family wanted wealth. And so the union was formed.

You and he tried to stay away from each other, and tried not to talk or interact unless necessary. It was an unspoken agreement between you two, since you barely knew each other, and you weren't exactly fond of each other either.

"I'm gonna be gone fer the day again."

He grumbled.

You didn't really care. You just wanted to rest. The bed rocked as Sans got up. He got dressed, and left quickly.

It takes about an hour for you to release you weren't gonna get any more sleep. You get up, and pug on the outfit the maids set out for you. A simple baby blue gown with white lace and a lovely hairpin with a butterfly on it. You make your way to the kitchen to see your maid Alice looking lost.

Alice is a sweet and quiet girl a few years younger than you, with short,

curly, always messy brown hair that's so dark it's almost black. She had patches of vitiligo that you thought was beautiful. Her eyes were a deep brown that matched her hair. She was short and cubby and looked exhausted no matter the situation.

"Alice? Are you alright?"

Alice jumped a bit, as she hadn't seen you yet.

"Ah! M'lady! We appear to be out of fruit, and I was going to take a pie to the lord's brothers. The loud one had asked for me to make him one!"

Alice froze.

"Please don't tell anyone I called lord

Papyrus loud, m'lady."

You chuckle.

"I won't tell. I promise."

Just then, you got an idea.

"Why don't we go shopping? I haven't been out of the house in awhile, and I'm sure we have more than just fruit that we're out of.'

Alice smiled and clapped.

"A fine idea m'lady!"

You grab your purse, and put on some white dress gloves. You make Alice wear a dress and hat of yours. It was olive green, with little beads sewn onto the waist and hat brim. You take a carriage to the city, and hop off at Camden and walk into the bustling marketplace.

The scents of fresh bread, sweets, and flowers filled the air. Sellers were shouting out deals for their wares and beckoning people to consider buying. You smiled. You loved visiting Camden Markets. You noticed a bunny monster selling echo flowers at a booth. Echo flowers only grew under Mount.Ebott. You noticed a red one that hadn’t bloomed yet. It looked like it was almost ready to open. They say red echo flowers will hold a message given to them until they bloom. You decided to buy it.

“That’ll be 100 gold. No bargaining.”

You sigh, and hand the bunny monster the money. You picked up the flowerpot and held it close to your body so it wouldn’t fall and break. Alice looked inquisitive.

“I got it for Sans. I thought he might miss the underground so I decided to get this for him.”

Alice hugged you.

“You’re so kind m’lady!”

You shake your head.

“As his wife it’s my duty to keep him happy and content. He’s been stressed lately and I want to help.”

~~~Timeskip~~~

You were helping Alice bring the groceries to the carriage when she suddenly stopped and you bumped into her back. You looked at her face and she looked stunned.

“Alice?”

She pointed and your eyes followed her finger to see your husband kissing a girl with a brown bob. A shadow cast over your face.

When she saw your expression, Alice marched over to Sans and slapped him. Hard.

“HOW DARE YOU!? MISS Y/N HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT KIND AND LOYAL TO YOU, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY HER?! YOURE DESPICABLE!”

Alice yelled obscenities at Sans until you pulled her away. She continued screaming at him until you were in the moving carriage and out of sight.

End of part one

#mafiafell #sans #dark #trigger warning #tw: cheating

[kingpiscesshark]

OK my Beloved. Today I will teach you how to communicate anger.

For this example I'll give a healing way and a hurtful way.

Alice and Tom have plans for a dinner date.

Alice ends up working late and not calling Tom to let him know. By the time Alice gets home she is feeling stressed bc she knows she missed their date and is anxious about how Tom will respond. On the other side Tom is worried if she is OK and at the same time he is angry.

Hurtful way first.

Tom says im angry at you. You didn't call. You don't care.

Now he has projected his own feelings onto Alice and now she has to defend herself and it's one sided. There is no longer a Tom in this conversation.

Healing way. Tom says are you ok? I was worried.

Alice says yes I'm OK. I know i should of called you. I'm sorry.

Tom feels validation for his worry now and sees that she knows she should of called so there is no reason to say she doesn't care bc she just expressed she was sorry so she does care and she sees he cares bc he was worried.

Tom. I forgive you. I'm glad your ok.

Alice. Are you ok?

Tom. I will be. Right now I'm also feeling angry.

Alice. Will you tell me why your angry.

Tom. When you didn't call and we missed our date I felt angry. I'm calming down now tho.

Alice. I understand. I was feeling very anxious the whole time at work and coming home.

Tom. We can try again tomorrow baby girl.

Alice. I'd love that thankyo.

Lesson always own your emotions. Don't project them onto your partners ever.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

boys have cooties │ t. holland

pairing: middle school teacher!tom holland x middle school teacher!fem!reader warnings: like two or three curse words, kids, overall it's pretty much fluff. maybe some spelling mistakes. word count: 2k a/n: hi, hello. english isn't my first language, so please be kind. this is the first thing i've written in so long so i'm sorry if this sucks. gif ain't mine, creds to the owner!

"mr holland?" "yes, my friend?" he said, crouching so he could be eye level with little natalie. "do you have a girlfriend?" she asked, her pretty green eyes shining brightly. his mind immediately went to the gorgeous (y/e/c)-eyed girl who owned his heart.

"why do you ask that, friend?" he pulled a chair from the table next to him and sat in front of her. he watched as an adorable frown set on her face, cheeks flushing.

"yesterday i was playing in my room and my sissy was watching a movie with a boy. i wanted to watch tangled so i went to the living room and she was kissing him!" she said, banging her hands on the table as if it was the most scandalous thing she'd ever seen.

"really? and what did you do?" he asked, biting his lips and trying his hardest not to grin at the wholesomeness of it all.

"i screamed, and she was really mean, she told me to go to my room and leave her and her boyfriend alone. do boyfriends and girlfriends make you mean?"

"well, no. a boyfriend or girlfriend is supposed to bring out the best of you. i believe what happened was that maybe she was maybe a bit embarrassed about you seeing them together," he explained as carefully as he could to the six-year-old. he loved teaching little kids, but there were times like this when he had to try to put into simple words something as abstract as the concept of love and relationships. he wouldn't change it for the world, though. there was nothing like seeing the mesmerized expressions on each of their faces when they discovered something new together.

"okay. but i don't think i will ever have a boyfriend. because boys have cooties and germs." she said confidently. he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped from his lips. little natalie pressed her hand against her mouth, giggling as if she'd just said the funniest thing in the world.

"natalie! boys don't have cooties." he tried to stop her from laughing, but her giggles only got louder.

"yes they do!" she continued laughing, only stopped when they heard a knock on the door. you walked in, in all your beautiful glory.

"hey ba-buuuddy," you played it cool when you noticed the small child sitting in front of Tom.

"hi, miss y/l/n!" natalie greeted you cheerfully. you gave them both a bright smile, "can you tell mr. holland that i'm right?"

"she's right," you said immediately, winking at her.

"so you agree that boys have cooties?" tom asked, lifting his eyebrows. you grabbed a chair and sat next to him, and grabbed his hand under the table. he interlocked his fingers with yours, squeezing them.

"duh! obviously!" you nodded, which only made the six-year-old to laugh even louder.

"i told you!" she said, pointing a finger at tom. you looked at him, scrunching your nose as you smiled.

"so does that mean i have cooties?" tom asked, his eyes darting between his young student and you.

"no!"

"yes!" you and natalie said at the same time. while the young girl denied it, you played along and accused your perfect boyfriend of having the childish disease.

tom stared at you with his mouth in a perfect o. the six-year-old's laugh could now be heard from outside of the room.

"i'm offended," tom said as he placed a hand on his chest, you chuckled and winked at him.

you were about to make another snarky comment when the loud bell rang, signaling the end of recess.

"saved by the bell," you said dropping his hand and standing up. tom's students began rushing into the room, surprised to see you there.

"miss y/l/n!" the kids cheered.

while tom preferred the joy of teaching new things to the littlest, you enjoyed the challenge of the eldest. your young age was definitely an advantage you had when it came to teaching. you knew the stress and anxiety that school could cause some of the kids and were always flexible with your assignments and your way of teaching. now on your third year as a teacher, you'd heard kids saying they could not wait until they reached fifth grade so they could have you as their teacher. it was safe to say everyone at school loved you. always kind, always giving the best advice, always having the best snacks.

"oh, my goodness! i am never leaving this classroom, you are the cutest little things in the entire world!" you said as they ran to you and hugged your legs.

"go away y/n, they're my kids," tom said faking hurt when he saw the lovestruck expression on the little ones' faces, but his heart fluttered when he saw how they loved you as much as he did.

"i think they love me more than they love you, tommy-boy," you said, a cheeky grin on your lips. he wanted nothing more than to kiss you senseless. but instead, he gasped, eyes widening as he looked around at the kids, some laughing, some ran to tom and hugged his legs as well, meanwhile the others stayed by your side and held you tighter.

"i've been betrayed, and by my own younglings." he dramatically fell to his knees and all the kids rushed to his side, saying how they loved him as much as they loved you.

"no!"

"we love you too, mr. holland!"

"i like miss y/n better."

"you two are my favorite teachers!" loud screeching filled the room, making you laugh.

"okay, kids. go show mr. holland your love, i've gotta go deal with my own munchkins. it was lovely to see you today, remember to drink water, make good choices and listen to tommy-boy here," you ruffled some heads and high-fived hands as you walked backward toward the door.

"alright everybody, let's thank miss y/l/n for stopping by. say goodbye and settle down," tom switched into teacher mode, and you felt the familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach when you saw him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. biting your lip, you sent him a small wink as a new wave of voices filled the room.

"bye, miss y/l/n!"

"i love you!"

"come back soon!"

"can i go with you?"

"have a nice day!" you smiled and waved at them. giving tom a small nod and a knowing look, you rushed to your classroom at the end of the hall.

you loved your kids, messy and loud and moody.

when you walked into your room you saw most of them sitting and chatting with their own small cliques, but when they heard the sound of your shoes approaching some of them turned their heads to see you.

immediately, the loud voices filled the room.

"where were you?"

"can we watch a movie?"

"i need to use the restroom!"

"you're late!"

"yes, you can go to the restroom. no, we're not waching a movie today. yes, i know i'm late. i was in mr. holland's classroom visiting my favorite kids in the entire school" you answered, lifting an eyebrow and laughing when you saw their reactions.

"hey!"

"not cool!"

"i like him better anyways"

you continued to laugh as you moved your hands, finally getting them to quiet down.

"that, ladies and gents, was a joke. i was kidding. i wouldn't trade my babies for anything in the world" you said as you sat on your desk, folding your legs underneath you.

"miss y/l/n?" a girl raised her arm, you looked up

"yes, alice?"

"i saw you and mr. holland in the morning, you were holding hands." she said, cheeky grin on her face.

"oooooohhhh, miss y/l/n has a boyfriend!" shouting began again. you tried your hardest to suppress the smile that was threatening to settle on your face. instead you bit your lip hard.

"you woke up and chose violence today, alice," you admitted, making them all laugh. "mr. holland and i are just friends, my babies." you said, knowing how they hated when you called them that. "now, we've already lost too much time, let's get to work. everybody take out your books and-"

-------

at the end of the school day, you stayed behind sorting through papers and planning your classes for next week. when you finished, you put your things away, grabbing some papers you needed to grade and putting them in your bag. a knock on the door grabbed your attention.

"hey, baby," you greeted tom. he walked to you, threw his arm around your neck and pressed a kiss on the side of your temple.

"you ready, darling?" he asked, taking your bag from you with his right hand and grabbing your own with his left one. you nodded, lifting your joined hands and kissing his knuckles. you noticed the way his cheeks flushed pink. and it warmed your heart knowing even the simple gestures still made sparks fly between you two after years of being together.

"yes, mr. holland," you teased, locking the door behind you, interlocking your fingers with his again.

"took me a while to quiet them down after your visit, wouldn't stop talking about you," he squeezed your hand, making you grin.

"oh, you should've heard my kids. alice saw us holding hands in the morning. they think you're my boyfriend." you lifted an eyebrow. letting go of his hand when you reached his range rover. the parking lot was now empty. he opened the door for you, you climbed in the passenger seat as he put your handbag and his own backpack in the backseat.

"really?" he asked, you hummed in response. you moved so you were facing him standing outside. he placed his hands on your thighs, your hands immediately finding his. "if they only knew..." he said, letting go of one of your hands, his fingers traveled to your neck, under the collar of your shirt, and toyed with the delicate gold chain around your skin. he lifted the chain, a sparkly diamond ring sitting there like a charm.

"if they only knew..." you repeated his words, hands traveling to his face, cupping his cheeks. your thumb played with lips and he moved his head to kiss it.

"when do you think we should tell them?" he asked, leaning down, resting his forehead against yours, noses brushing together.

"i don't know. they're gonna lose their shit when they find out," you chuckled, earning one from him as well. "we'll have to tell them before the wedding, though. otherwise, my kids will feel betrayed. they're already mad because i told them i'll be gone for a month."

"but it'll be during the summer holidays," he frowned, a beautiful smile forming on his lips.

"i know, that's what i said. apparently, they still think i live in the school." you shook your head, laughing.

"i can't wait until we have our own little ones," he admitted, hiding his face on your neck, fingers still playing with the ring that he gave you almost a year ago on your two-year anniversary. you smiled, your arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

"me neither, then they'll really lose their shit. can you imagine?" you giggled as you felt his warm breath hit your sensitive skin behind your ear.

"i love you so much." he said, pressing small kisses on your neck, traveling up to your jaw, your cheek, and finally your lips. your thumbs tracing invisible circles on his cheek as his lips met yours.

"i love you, too. so, so much." your hands moved to his hair, fingers running through soft curls. "now, take me home, mr. holland. your fiance is getting hungry." you both chuckled, hands finally letting of eachother, you settled in your seat as he gave your lips a small peck before closing your door.

"how's mcdonald's sound?" he asked when he climbed in the driver's seat, starting the car. like magnets, your hands met halfway and you rested your arms on the console between you two.

"with you, everything sounds perfect." you admitted, meeting his bright brown eyes that seemed to sparkle when he heard the words you spoke. he lifted your joined hands and kissed your knuckles, once, twice. all the way until forever.

#this is so cute #middle school teacher!tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #peter parker #tom holland!peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker fic #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel actors #mcu #imagine #fanfic #fic #tell me if you'd like to read more of this #i'm so soft for this #it's 2021 and i'm still crushing on my man tom holland

[unhinged-summer-fun]

To Build A Dynasty

Chapter 4: The Storm Carol York x Dave York x Marcus Pike x F!Reader (22+)

Series Masterlist

Rating: Mature (Series overall Explicit)

Word count: 3329

Chapter summary: Taco Tuesday.

Warnings: OH GOD IT’S HAPPENING EVERYBODY CALM DOWN CALM THE FUCK DOWN IT’S HAPPENING.

Taglist is linked in my bio and my main masterlist!

< Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 >

You sat in Carol’s bedroom, wearing a change of comfortable clothes and trying to let the day fall off your shoulders. She assured you things were going to be okay, that you didn’t do anything wrong about your boss. There was a definite undercurrent of something unspoken about that topic, but her tight smile told you was best left unspoken for now. “You mind if I ask J to help set the table?” Carol asked, slipping on some earrings. She’d warned you of extra company tonight, but told you not to worry about it.

“Please.” You knew J didn’t get many opportunities to practice good manners, so you were thankful for Carol’s guidance. The thought of another person parenting your child should have summoned some heavy unease, but with Carol and Dave, you found you didn’t mind. She kissed your forehead before heading back downstairs. It took a few minutes for you to calm your worries, but you assured yourself that the day couldn’t get any more stressful so long as you were at the York house.

Something told Carol she needed two bottles of wine open tonight. The taco bar she whipped up was always a favorite in her house, and had the added benefit of giving everyone something to do with their hands. Dave was finishing up some paperwork in the office while the kids got their food first. Alice kept glancing toward the office door, which drew her mother’s attention. “What’s going on, bun?” Carol asked.

Alice looked away quickly. “Who’s that man?” She asked. It’s nothing was not an accepted response where Carol York was concerned.

Carol smoothed her hand down over her daughter’s head. “He’s daddy’s new coworker. Kind of like a new class leader.”

“Daddy’s got a new boss?” She asked, a wisdom far beyond her years glinting in her eyes.

“No, he’s more like a supervisor, but they only work well when they work together.”

Alice nodded, building the rest of her second taco. “I hope they work well, then.”

“Me too, bun.”

You walked in next, and Carol got you some shells to start building. With the kids at the table, Carol felt settled and happy. The calm of home was always something she loved, even when Molly was just a baby and they were in a tiny apartment in Fort Bliss. You looked much better than you did when you arrived. She snuck a kiss to your cheek before bringing the wine in.

“Thank you for helping set the table, J,” Carol said with a hand over their head.

“Yes, Mrs. York,” they said cutely, their missing-toothed smile shining brightly, just like yours. Carol loved them like one of her own, and hoped you weren’t put off by her affections. Dave had confessed one evening after that fateful emergency board action night that he worried about overstepping your parenting style. Carol didn’t know what it was like to be a single mother, and hoped she never had to, but she assured him that he was coming from a good place about his help.

You didn’t seem to mind one bit.

Carol took her seat at one end of the dining table, seven place settings laid out for them and their guests. You sat to her right, waiting to eat until Dave and his new handler emerged from the office though Carol had told you their conversation may stretch on for a while. Carol hadn’t caught more than the barest glance at the man before he’d disappeared into the office.

When the door opened to the office, she looked over. Dave walked out with his neutral-pleased face. Whatever negotiations must have gone over in the office, they must have gone in his favor. The other man, tall and dark-eyed, if prematurely gray around the temples, was handsome, and she could see the places in his eyes where sadness lurked, even if Dave had warned her of such before he’d come over. His face bore evidence of a man who liked to smile, but the tired lines in his forehead spoke of a recent history that didn’t allow for that much. His shoulders held the posture of a man with barely-grasped pride. Something must have happened to land him here with Dave, the same way Dave had done something to land himself in this position as well.

Dave caught her appraising the man. He winked her way, and she hid her smile in her wine.

“This is my wife, Carol,” Dave said, motioning to her.

“Nice to meet you.” His voice was on the deeper side, in a soft, heavy way, like cashmere.

Carol watched your face drain of color. Your whole body went stiff, and your eyes saw straight through the center of the earth in the space of a single second. Dave didn’t notice, introducing you and J as “practically family these days.”

The man faltered in his greeting for a moment when he saw J, a curious look in his eyes, and when he saw you, it was like all the air in the room was suddenly sucked out of it.

Dave kept fucking talking. “Honey, this is Marcus Bike.”

“It’s Pike,” Carol said, the same time as Alice, for whatever reason.

No one in the room moved.

Alice York spoke up again. “Dad, can we eat in the TV room?”

Nothing but popcorn was allowed in the TV room, but Dave, upon finally noticing the tension in the room, the flow chart of wide eyes and slack expressions, nodded. Marcus’s gaze followed J out of the room, before returning to you.

Carol gave a hysterical laugh. No one else joined her.

You at least weren’t shaking, probably just stricken with indecision of what to do. Marcus, smartly, did not try to call for your attention, despite the very very obvious question that hung over his head in neon. “Dave, Marcus, why don’t you make yourself some tacos. Dave, can you also get the mezcal and make sure the TV room door is closed?” Carol didn’t know what instinct had her speaking so clearly, but it was most likely some kind of grace-under-pressure override that came with having two daughters in contact sports and an assassin for a husband.

Dave gave a very wary look toward Marcus before doing as his wife said. “Marcus, would you reach into the drawer you’re right in front of and grab me the silver tongs? Thank you.”

The room was filled with the minute noises of Marcus Pike putting together three tacos. Dave returned, setting the black-label mezcal down on the table by his place setting. Without the children there, he felt further away than normal. Marcus finished his tacos and Dave took his place, sitting beside Carol and across from you at the only setting not taken.

Dave moved his glass next to your other side, sandwiching you between him and Carol in a protective maneuver he didn’t often get to use. His once-pleased look he’d come out of the office with had long disappeared, freezing over into the ice-cold look of determination.

He could probably kill a grown man with a taco shell if pressed, Carol thought.

Carol took another drink of her wine, before draining it and motioning for the mezcal. She heard the sound of a very loud kid’s movie start up in the TV room and gave herself credit for at least attempting to act normally about all of this. She took a bite of her taco.

You attempted to bring yours to your mouth, but it shattered in your hands, and all hell broke loose.

“I didn’t kill him!”

“Is that my kid?”

“Your last name is PIKE?”

“I have a cold—”

“Can you pass the mezcal, please?”

“Wait, kill who?”

“Baby, you didn’t kill him, I killed him.”

Carol dropped her head in her hands. “Dear god, David.”

“What?!” He exclaimed, aghast at her chiding.

“At dinner?”

“No, I killed him after she came over for dinner a month ago. She was asleep on the couch, I was in and out.”

“You what?” You squeaked.

“Huh???” Marcus said.

“Pass me. The GODDAMN mezcal before I fucking stab someone myself,” Carol said, in a very controlled but angry voice. Dave had only heard her voice get like that twice in his life, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it was just as sexy the third time as it was the first two.

He passed her the bottle. There was silence once more around the dinner table. After starting to drink directly from it, Marcus tried to open his mouth to speak. Carol snapped the tongs at him and glared. She hissed at the burn, before setting the bottle down with a thunk.

“These,” she rasped, “are the Talking Tongs. If you are not holding the Talking Tongs, you may not talk. You may request the Talking Tongs by raising your hand quietly until they are given to you. Does everyone understand?”

She was met with silent nods. Marcus attempted to raise his hand, and Carol shook her head. “Not yet. It’s my turn first.”

She had them wait in tense silence while she took another sip from the bottle, holding the tongs in a white-knuckle grip all the while.

“Now. Here’s what I know.” She sighed. “Dave is a contract killer for a sub-contractor of a sub-contractor of the DIA. He has recently gotten himself in hot water because he killed your,” she pointed at you with the tongs, “weird predator boss. This,” she pointed at Marcus, “is Marcus Pike. Marcus Pike is Dave’s new handler. Marcus Pike is also,” she lowered her voice, “J’s father, the one, who you said, got away.

“You never told Marcus because your own mother was burned by a shitbag father who wanted nothing to do with his surprise child, and left you and her homeless for many years. You tried buckling down and doing it better yourself, for your kid. You didn’t know what Marcus would say if you told him you were pregnant. Believe me, I know what that’s like. And you’ve been trying your best, but recently things haven’t been good.

“You’ve been stressed about your job security because you’ve had to stay in a toxic environment with a man who actively targeted and harassed you. You rolled with this whole situation,” she gestured to you, herself, and Dave, “because someone else has been in charge and taking care of you. Which we love doing, because we love you.” She let go of the bottle long enough to reach over and take your hand.

“And Marcus?” Carol continued, almost being met with a yes, ma’am, but he knew better. “I don’t know you, but the fact is that an FBI department head, even in Art Crimes, does not laterally transfer to become a black-ops sub-sub-sub-DIA handler without it being a punishment of any sort. I’m guessing you’re also in hot water, in the same flavor of hot water that Dave is in.”

The resignation in his big puppy dog eyes said more than his slow nod did.

“Alright. Is there anything I missed?”

There wasn’t. Really, Carol York didn’t miss a thing, but this whole thing had been so theatre-of-the-gods in terms of wayside luck that she couldn’t have put it together any faster than she had at present.

“Now, who would like the Talking Tongs?”

Dave York understood how the Talking Tongs worked, and raised his hand politely. When he received the tongs, and the bottle of mezcal as a treat, he sighed. “I didn’t know I was being burn-threatened when I killed him. I did it because I wanted you to feel safe.” He spoke this last part to you, as much emotion as he could muster behind his words. Carol and Marcus put their heads in their hands.

Dave saw your eyes fill with tears, and for a moment, he dreaded that you would never look at him the same way again. “That’s…” you whispered. “That’s so nice.”

Dave York fell a little bit more in love with you right then.

Marcus Pike was having quite the Day. Of all the Days he’d had, this was certainly one of them. So many things had happened at once, from seeing the spitting image of himself at age 8 sitting at the dinner table, across from the one woman who persisted in his dreams through three failed relationships and a spectacularly-failed engagement. He remembered the woman who just wanted to be taken care of and protected. He remembered feeling that instant connection with you when he arrived in Florida, falling head over heels in love with you and damning the consequences until the orders came for him to return to Austin.

He felt like such an asshole for not staying. He wished he’d known. He didn’t know what kind of life he would have led if he stayed, but he knew he would have. He would have kept loving you until you were done with him. He remembered how to breathe again, looking around and trying not to do something like cry.

His analytical brain was catching up with him, though. You were clearly in a relationship with Dave and Carol, no shortage of love between the three of you. That much was apparent with Carol’s hand on yours and Dave’s lips against your forehead.

Quietly, Marcus raised his hand, feeling silly to interrupt the emotional moment happening on the other side of the table. Dave York looked over and glared at him with such intensity Marcus almost shivered. When the initial tension had gripped the room just fifteen minutes ago, Marcus had felt that animal instinct tell him that Dave was looking to kill him, seemingly just for making you uncomfortable.

Carol cleared her throat and Dave passed the Talking Tongs.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking over at you. Dave was almost shielding you with his body, like Marcus’s mere presence would harm you. “I know it’s eight years too late, but I am.”

You shook your head, eyes wide as you opened your mouth to almost talk out of turn, but you suddenly received two twin York faces of disapproval. Marcus held out the tongs.

“It was unfair of me to keep J from you. I knew that the moment they were born. It just… time, and distance, everything seemed like it had been too long to bring it up. I was scared.” You clutched the tongs close to your chest, your voice going soft with anguish. “And-and I understand wanting to… if you want to take this to court and all. To settle things fairly. You-you don’t need to do that. I don’t have the money for a custody case anyway…” Your eyes blurred over with tears, and you covered your face as you started to softly cry. “Just don’t take my baby away.”

The conversation had gone from bewildering to depressing. All manners and customs-keeping were off the table. “Honey, no!” Marcus cried, body making an aborted half-jerk forward to try and comfort you. Dave pulled you into his arms, trying to kill Marcus with his eyes alone. “No, that’s not—that’s not why I’m here at all. That’s, I would never try and do something like that, ever. Please believe me. If you don’t want me in their life still, I’m, I can live with that. I don’t want to shake up your life. Lord knows my own is already shaken up as it is. If not, I…” You looked up and met his eyes, finally. “I would like to know the kid I made with you.”

It was then that Carol York’s resolve cracked, and she burst into tears as well, flailing for the mezcal or something to help make sense of this Hallmark nightmare of a dinner. “You two are such fucking idiots,” she cried into her taco, trying to stuff her feelings with food.

You laughed, watery and beautiful, and Marcus felt his heart leap in his chest at the sound. His own eyes pricked with tears. He would never do anything to hurt you, never intentionally. Through his one failed marriage and countless other failed romances, you were always the one he wanted nothing more than to be good enough for.

Things settled awkwardly for a little bit. Dave checked on the kids while Marcus got you an un-crushed taco to replace the one you’d accidentally squashed under your elbow when you were crying.

Dave sat down and sighed, pulling a hand over his face. “Marcus,” he said, voice a lot less tight than the tension in his eyes gave away. “What exactly did you do to get yourself in this position?”

Marcus’s story was frustrating. He’d been forcibly retired after attempting to uncover a string of corruption in the FBI, which had ended in being framed for an attack on a young woman he’d promised to protect. “Her name is Julia. She was five months pregnant and just trying to keep her head down at her FBI internship here in D.C., but when she agreed to testify against the leadership involved in the cover-up, they sent some kind of hit to her house. They… it wasn’t. I’ve never seen someone try and send a message like that.”

You didn’t want to know. Dave would ask later.

“She backed out of testifying after that.” Marcus’s jaw flexed as he fought to keep his emotions out of his retelling. “I got through about three pages of an OPR report before I was called by the Director, told to shut down my workstation, and ordered to go home. When I returned to work, my badge was revoked and I was processed for a medical retirement. The recruiter for The Company called me the moment I stepped out of Headquarters.”

“The Company?” You asked softly, looking to Dave.

“My employer,” he answered curtly.

“Okay,” you murmured.

“They recruited you the way they recruited me after I was retired from the Army,” Dave said, the gears in his mind turning over as he spoke. “The Company and the other organizations like it are typically a purgatory for people too valuable to kill, too skilled and knowledgeable for any other work than this. It’s a double-edged sword of Damocles swinging closer every day.”

“I had no idea. It just seemed like the right decision at the time,” Marcus said, drinking from the mezcal bottle and shaking his head.

“It always does.”

“So you’re under scrutiny for behaving erratically, shaking handlers?” He asked Dave.

“Something like that. We like our freedom.”

“Right, you and—uh.”

“Ari, Kovac, and Resnik.”

“Them.”

“You’ll meet them tomorrow.”

“I need to invite them over sometime,” Carol said idly, aimlessly crushing her taco shells into smaller and smaller pieces with the defunct Talking Tongs. Marcus had made you a soft taco earlier, so you didn’t crush it with your anxiety hands. You’d cried again.

“The truth is… we’re all seeking a way out of this. We’ve been with The Company under contract for the last ten years. Ari’s having a kid, we’re getting into our fifties, we can’t keep doing what we’re doing for much longer. We thought that if we seemed less-than-competent they’d just let us go instead of letting us go, but…”

“You’re still not sure how retiring for real works,” you chimed in, earning you an impressed look from Dave. “Aren’t you worried they’ll just try to kill the two of you anyway?”

“They only hang you with the rope you tie yourself with. Dave knows how to behave, and with him to show Marcus the ropes, it’ll be fine.”

Dave and Carol shared a look, speaking that wordless secret language that only time could make between spouses. Dave smiled softly, before something else occurred to him. He took your hands in his and looked into your eyes.

“Oh, and I want you to take my place as PTA President.”

#TBAD #unhingery #f!reader #dave york x reader #dave york/reader #carol york x reader #carol york x dave york x marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

[heyitssmiller]

Clandestine: Chapter Fourteen

We’re here. The final chapter. Y’all. I’m gonna cry.

@lumosinlove thanks for these characters!!

@donttouchmycarrots thanks for being my partner in crime during this whole mess of a story <3

And thank you, lovely readers!! For sticking with me for this crazy rollercoaster of a story, for encouraging me when I felt like quitting, and for always being so, so wonderful. I appreciate y’all more than I can say.

CW: prison, food, anxiety

Clandestine Masterlist

.

The drive back was silent, punctuated sharply by the two empty seats in the van. It was something they should’ve seen coming, but yet were completely blindsided by. Sirius had been on their side for so long now, it seemed odd to picture him anywhere else. It was like he’d been there for years already, fitting in seamlessly and making friends fast, filling a gap that hadn’t been obvious before but felt like a chasm now. He belonged in Gryffindor with them. And Regulus, while more reserved and distant than his brother, didn’t seem to deserve the fate he’d found. The main motive that kickstarted this whole mission had been him – all for him – and he still couldn’t avoid being dragged down with the Snakes.

Remus was on the phone with a contact from the FBI – he had been since they’d taken Sirius away – trying his hardest to find any loopholes he could. He was… actually strangely calm. Methodically tackling one idea after the next, his analytic brain working overtime. Logan could understand, though. Being productive was helpful. It was when things settled down and got quiet, when all you could do was sit there and wait…

That was when things got tough.

His leg bounced up and down in anticipation the closer they got to the cabin, his one-track mind stuck on one thing and one thing only – getting a blond safe-cracker into his arms again. Not having Leo with them had been like missing a limb, making everything feel out of balance. And even thought he was safe, he was still too far away. Logan couldn’t stand it.

Finn reached over and placed a hand on Logan’s with a knowing smile. He was ready to be home, too.

Gravel crunching under their tires only fueled the eagerness. There were lights still on in the cabin, a warm, inviting pull. The front door was open before the cars had pulled to a complete stop, revealing Leo and Hope and Lyall. Julian was presumably asleep, given the hour. Logan’s seatbelt was thrown off and the door closest to him was yanked open, Finn hot on his heels.

Leo bounded down the steps of the porch and flung himself at the two of them, finding every inch of space between them and filling it, a soft sound escaping from his lips as he held on tight in a one-armed grip. Logan and Finn both stumbled back a few steps at the impact but quickly returned the embrace, Logan’s face buried in the junction between neck and shoulder and Finn’s forehead pressed against the blond’s. They seemed to take their next breaths in tandem, slow and steady, as they leaned into each other. Time slowed, everything in the periphery faded, and the world, previously off-kilter, evened out in equilibrium.

Finn suddenly realized he felt the coarse, scratchy texture of Leo’s sling pressed up against him and pulled back a little. “Careful, baby.”

That made Leo pull back. “Why?” He glanced over them nervously. “Are you hurt?”

Logan sighed long-sufferingly and cupped Leo’s face in his hands, looking him in the eyes with a fond expression that belied his exasperation. “No, but you are,” he moved his hands to smush Leo’s cheeks, causing Finn to laugh, “so take it easy.”

Leo smiled – a real one this time, not one of the fake ones he’d given them before they left – and relaxed. After a quick kiss from Logan he asked, “So it went well? Mission’s done?”

Logan and Finn both froze at that. Finn looked over to Remus, who was still on the phone (like he had been for the past hour at least) and frowned.

“Not quite.”

“We can talk inside,” Leo said, looking worried again. “there’s lots of food for y’all.���

He wasn’t wrong. Food covered pretty much every open surface of the countertops, ranging from pancakes to grilled cheese to the cinnamon swirl muffins Leo brought to their first briefing all those months ago. Finn smiled at the memories and instantly snagged one on their way to the kitchen table. His eyes landed on Talker, who was explaining something to Hope as she took a look at his leg. Nat, Kasey, and Alex were piled onto one couch, looking tired and each with a grilled cheese sandwich in hand. He could see Remus on the porch every once in a while when he passed by a window as he paced, phone pressed to his ear.

It didn’t bode well.

Logan sat down with a plate of pancakes drenched in syrup and started telling the story, voice a quiet murmur and only interrupted when he shoveled food into his mouth. Finn wondered how none of them had really seen this coming. In hindsight, it made sense that there would need to be a trial – after all, Sirius and his brother weren’t innocent. Finn wasn’t sure what happened next, though. Criminal trials and sentencing weren’t part of the job for them. He hoped they could get the brothers out of this mess, though. If anyone could find a way to do it, it would be Remus.

At least the Snakes were done for. The information on the flash drives was enough to lock them away for a very, very long time.

He took a bite of his muffin, no longer really hungry, and listened to Logan talk.

***

Remus sat down on the porch swing, tired and stressed and not at all ready to quit. He listened to Alice, his only contact in the FBI, rattle off some statistics that he couldn’t even begin to understand. And he wasn’t trying to be rude – that really wasn’t his intent – but he needed to act quickly about this. So he grimaced and cut her off. “Can we get them placed in another prison? Or even in solitary until we can figure something out? If the Snakes can get to them…”

Well. Remus didn’t think they’d show much mercy to the two people mainly responsible for putting them in jail.

Alice sighed, the sound of her rummaging around in her desk filtering through the phone. “We can try. Since they did help you guys, we should be able to swing it. If something jeopardizes their lives, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Remus’ heart twisted – a deep, chronic ache under his ribcage that refused to let up. “Do it fast. I’m going to start reaching out to lawyers.”

“Lupin, it’s four in the morning.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff. “Thanks for all the help, Alice.”

He hung up, then braced his forearms on his knees, hands gripping his hair, and breathed.

If there was one thing Remus Lupin was good at, it was planning. It was his job, and a big part of the reason he’d switched from field work in the first place. He relied on structure to get through his days, needed the stability in order to function.

There was none of that.

This was being adrift at sea, constantly assaulted by the waves and the current without rescue in sight.

And Remus had no idea what to do.

His phone pinged, catching his attention. A text from Alice flashed across the screen.

I’ve got a friend who’s a lawyer, and she’s a damn good one. I know you’ll want to do your research on her yourself, but I can vouch for her too. Here’s her contact if you want to reach out.

The contact number and email were listed under the name Dorcas Meadowes.

***

Dorcas Meadowes was, to put it simply, awe-inspiring.

Black curls, a dark complexion, and a serious, no-funny-business expression on her face. Her office was neat and organized, a few pictures around the place of her and a blonde girl with a wide grin and freckles. There was a small pride flag on her desk. Without a word, she motioned for Remus to sit, cool and composed and ready to get to work.

That was all it took for Remus to instantly respect her.

“So I’ve heard some of the story from Alice, but I’ll need you to start at the very beginning. Don’t leave out any details, tell me everything.”

Remus did, settling into the chair and getting comfy. It was a long story, after all. When he was done he looked back up at Dorcas, whose face was expressionless except for a single, raised eyebrow.

“That’s…” she trailed off with a low whistle.

“Yeah.”

“Well, the good news is that, if we’ve got enough evidence to back your story up, we can reduce his sentence by a lot, maybe even get him released.”

Remus sagged back into the chair, relief taking over and wiping out the tension radiating through his muscles. “Great.”

He’d known, logically, that they’d be able to reduce his sentence. With all the work he put into taking the Snakes down, there was no way they’d give him a full sentence. But getting him out of there for good…

Remus had never wanted anything so much in his life.

Dorcas leaned forward, powering her laptop on. “We’ll go visit him in the next few days and tell him what’s going on, but first we need a plan. Here’s what I’m thinking…”

***

Sirius hated this.

He was bored, he was tired, and – more than anything – he was lonely.

In Gryffindor, he’d become so accustomed to always having at least someone with him at all times. It was usually Remus, but he’d also grown close to most of the team. And it was nice at the time – god, did he miss it. But it was painful now. He’d witnessed what his life could be like, happy and surrounded by friends and possibly in love, and now he was back to the way his life used to be. Alone and on the wrong side of the law.

He hadn’t seen Reg since they’d been escorted into isolation for their own safety. Which don’t get him wrong – he was grateful for it. Knowing Riddle, they wouldn’t have survived the night if they were all being held together. But it was too quiet now.

The door to his cell rattled and Sirius looked up sharply. A guard was standing there, unlocking his door and opening it.

“Come with me,” the guard said, sounding bored as he opened the door further and held out a pair of handcuffs. Sirius looked at him hesitantly, not moving an inch. The guard rolled his eyes. “You have visitors.”

Sirius perked up at that, the only thought running through his head being Remus. He knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t going to take this sitting down. He’d be fighting to get Sirius free, no doubt about it. He wasn’t sure who else would be visiting him, anyways – if someone was here, it was sure to be Remus.

So Sirius got up and held his wrists out to be cuffed, then watched as the officer pointed down the hall.

“This way.”

It took all the self-control Sirius had to not run, to slowly put one foot in front of the other until he finally reached his destination. The guard moved around him to open the door and then Sirius was moving again.

He spotted caramel curls as soon as the door opened to the visitation room and felt his shoulders sag with relief. “Remus.”

Worried brown eyes followed him as he crossed the room quickly to sit in front of him, separated by a thick wall of glass. The movies weren’t lying, apparently. But it was so good to see him that Sirius didn’t care.

Remus looked tired. Unfortunately, that didn’t surprise Sirius at all. He knew the tendency to overwork all too well at this point. More than anything, it made Sirius want to get out of there, to wrap him up in his arms and let him take a nap there, to make sure he was taking care of himself. He settled for giving him a stern look instead.

“You need to get some sleep.”

Sirius expected a sharp, witty retort. Some sass, a comeback of some kind. Instead, Remus did the unthinkable and just smiled. “I missed you.”

Sirius sighed, softening at the gentle admission. He’d missed Remus too, of course. More than he could really put into words, and it had barely been a day. The smell of his shampoo, the quiet, reassuring presence of him by Sirius’ side, those eyes that just seemed to see right through him and know even the things Sirius tried to keep hidden. He found he didn’t mind it too much - not when it was Remus.

“I missed you,” he echoed in agreement, refusing to look away until someone cleared their throat loudly. Sirius looked over to a woman sitting next to Remus, looking unimpressed. Sirius hadn’t even known she was there, as wrapped up in Remus as he was.

Remus, to Sirius’ endless delight, blushed. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Remus blush before. It was cuter than it had any right to be. “Um, Sirius this is Dorcas. She’ll be representing you in court.”

Right.

He had to go on trial.

Dorcas took over from there. “We think, with the evidence we have, that we can get the charges reduced, maybe dropped if we’re lucky. If you can think of any evidence we don’t know about, we can use that to strengthen your case, too.”

Sirius nodded, relieved. That sounded better than he thought he’d get, to be honest. “What about Reg?” he asked, looking between the two.

Dorcas was very hard to read, Sirius realized. And Remus looked confident… until he looked over at the lawyer. Then his expression flickered.

And Sirius’ heart sank.

“That’s a bit trickier,” Dorcas stated slowly, treading carefully. “The thing is, he never tried to get out. He stayed with the Snakes. And I know it’s not easy to get out of situations like that,” she rushed to continue when she saw the look on Sirius’ face, “but the fact still stands. And he didn’t do as much to help take the Snakes down, not like you did. We can probably reduce his sentence, but he’ll be in prison longer than you. I don’t think we can fix that.”

Sirius felt himself being torn in two different directions. He wanted to be free, to be able to live his life again. Maybe make a home in Gryffindor (or maybe move in permanently with a certain spy), get a job as a consultant. He’d make sure the poor houseplant in Remus’ apartment survived, the poor thing, and he’d keep Remus’ favorite tea stocked in the cupboard. He’d be able to relax for – well, the first time in a very long time.

But his brother.

He was the main reason Sirius got out in the first place. The reason he ended up in Gryffindor, this entire mission was for him. To get him out, to make sure he was safe.

What was the point, if he was stuck in jail while Sirius got to walk free?

He could practically hear his brother telling him how stupid he was being in that dry voice of his, but he pushed the thought away. He’d made up his mind, and it was practically impossible to sway him when that happened.

Sweet, caramel eyes might test him, though.

Sirius looked up at Remus guiltily, dreading the response he was going to get. But yet again, Remus took him by surprise and smiled sadly.

“I understand.”

Those words hit Sirius like a freight train. He sucked in a deep breath, eyes stinging and throat getting tight. “I’m sorry.”

Remus just shook his head. “Don’t be.”

Sirius loved him.

Remus glanced over at a confused Dorcas. “He can’t leave his brother. Whatever sentence Reg gets, Sirius wants to do the same.”

She was silent for a long time, looking back and forth between the two of them. Then she sighed, seeming resolute. “Well then we’d better get those charges as low as we can.”

***

Four Weeks Later

.

Leo found Remus in the courthouse hallway during the trial recess before they were supposed to reconvene for the sentencing, looking seconds away from pacing from one side of the building to the other. The past few weeks had been hard on all of them. Between coming to terms with everything that had happened in the recent months, to trying to figure out the evidence they needed to bring forward to try and get the charges dropped against both Sirius and Regulus, to the strange feeling in the Agency brought forth by Sirius’ absence, it had been weird for all of them. Remus had been hit the hardest by all of it, though – and understandably so. That didn’t make it any easier to watch, though.

He’d been running himself to the bone the past four weeks, going above and beyond to make sure everything was in order for the trial. He looked ready to drop, if Leo was being honest.

But he understood. If it were Logan or Finn in Sirius’ place… well. He’d already figured out just how far he’d go for them.

He put a hand on Remus’ arm, trying to be as calming as possible. “You’re going to be ok,” he said carefully, choosing his words meticulously. He didn’t want to be cold, but he didn’t want to get Remus’ hopes up only for them to be dashed.

Carmel eyes met his own, and Leo sighed at the stress he saw there. He looked tired – so tired.

“What do you need?” Leo asked quietly, hoping for some sort of guidance on how to help him, how to get that look off of his face.

Remus just laughed under his breath, a sad sound. “There’s a lot of things I need.” He shuffled on his feet, gathering his sleeves in his hands. “But a hug would be a good start.”

Not hesitating, Leo gathered him into a hug, the stretch pulling at the scar tissue in his shoulder that was finally free of a sling. Remus was tense and still for a while, then relaxed into it. Leo wished he could do more, wished he could make any sort of difference in this situation. But everything was so far out of their control now; the only thing left to do was wait.

“Whatever happens, we’re here for both of you. You’re not alone in this.”

Remus stepped away with a fake attempt at a smile. “Yeah.”

There was a visual cue that neither of them seemed to catch and people started filtering back into the courtroom, making Remus’ face grow paler and more pinched. Leo stuck by his side as they walked back inside, trying to ignore the soft sound Remus made when he saw Sirius again – all the way in the front, in a jumpsuit that looked too big for him, hair longer and eyes a little duller than they remembered, fidgeting with something in his cuffed hands. Regulus was next to him, head down and avoiding everyone’s eyes. Leo just stuck to Remus’ side as they squeezed into the row of chairs with the rest of the Agency, making sure Remus was right in the middle, surrounded by so many of the people who cared about him most. Finn and Logan sat down next to him with grim smiles.

Leo reached over to tangle his fingers with Finn’s, feeling him squeeze back gently. The bruises were completely gone from his face, and he was walking limp-free now. He dropped his head onto Logan’s shoulder, having to angle his shoulders down to rest somewhat comfortably against the shorter man.

Leo would never get over the height difference.

“I’m taking a nap when we get home. This is so stressful, oh my god.” Finn sighed, making Leo smile.

Home.

That was still somewhat new for the three of them. After a few days back in their separate apartments in Gryffindor, they’d realized how incredibly codependent they’d become during their mission. Leo would find himself staring up at the ceiling most nights, worrying about the other two, until he’d get a phone call from one of them and they’d end up driving to each other and collapsing in bed together, squished together just like those hotel rooms they’d shared. And it had gotten to the point where there wasn’t any point living in different apartments when they ended up together most nights anyways, so Leo and Logan had packed up their things and moved in with Finn. He had the largest bed, anyways.

So yeah. They lived together now. And Leo was ridiculously pleased about it.

They were taking that vacation in a few weeks, too – the one Finn had first brought up in the back of a getaway car, tears in his eyes and blood on his hands. Somewhere warm, just like he’d promised. He’d get to watch Logan tan and Finn turn red like a lobster, only to go straight back to pale. They’d get some time to relax and not stress about work – just themselves and the vast expanse of beach and water in front of them.

Leo couldn’t wait.

“We’ll take that nap together.” Logan answered Finn quietly, turning his head to meet Leo’s eyes as he pressed an affectionate kiss to Finn’s head. Leo smiled at him, the sense of one chapter ending and the next beginning washing over him.

Whatever came their way, they’d be ok. They’d proven that already.

The crowd hushed as the judge sat back down, face impassive.

“We have reviewed the evidence and testaments brought forward in defense of Sirius and Regulus Black.” He started, looking down at the two in question critically as everyone in the courtroom seemed to hold their breath.

“It still doesn’t change the fact that they committed crimes while with the organization,” the judge stated firmly, then continued, “Regulus and Sirius Black are hereby sentenced to one year in prison.”

The gavel slammed.

Remus sat there in quiet disbelief.

They’d done… everything. They’d worked so hard for the past month in attempts to let Sirius and Regulus’ sentences reduced – and that was technically a reduced sentence – but it was still more than any of them had been expecting.

A year.

They hadn’t done enough.

Remus almost missed all the movement around him, too busy staring at the back of the seat directly in his line of vision, but his gaze snapped up when an achingly familiar voice called his name.

Sirius slowed to a stop as he passed Remus on his way out, eyes wide and frantic. Desperate. It broke Remus’ heart, more than it already was. “Wait for me?” He asked intently, like his sole focus was on Remus and his answer. He shoved his open palms out, revealing what he’d been fidgeting with during the entire trial. Remus looked down to find an origami flower, conveying all of Sirius’ hopes for the future within the delicate folds.

Remus wished more than anything that he could reach for him; to pull him in tight, hold him close, and refuse to let the guards take him away. He also had the half-formed plans of a jail break already in mind, even though he knew Sirius would never agree to it. It was then that his eyes locked with the gray ones he’d come to know better than his own and he knew – he knew that he’d wait, however long it took.

Remus loved him.

It wasn’t a grand revelation, it wasn’t sudden. In all honesty Remus had probably felt that way for a long time now, the truth prodding at the back of his head, nagging at his subconscious. He loved Sirius, plain and simple. Simple except for the fact that one of them was going to jail for a year. And yet, no matter how complicated it got, no matter how much time went by, it was the easiest decision Remus had ever made.

Well. If love made people crazy, Remus was certifiably insane.

He smiled a little tearfully at Sirius and nodded fiercely, picking up the paper flower delicately.

 “You know I will.”

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #sirius black #remus lupin #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: food #cw: prison #cw: anxiety

[winterscaptain]

permanent.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: just in case you missed it, i published a family tree for the hotchners! at this point, jack is married to bella and living in d.c. she’s a journalist for the washington division at the new york times and is generally pretty awesome. as always, lemme know what you think!

words: 3.1k warnings: language, hospital setting, canon-typical injury

summary: “write your injuries in dust, your benefits in marble” - benjamin franklin. au!december 2035

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

“Come on, Soph! Go, baby, go!”

Your daughter is a vision. She streaks across the field, her green and yellow uniform almost melding with the grass as she keeps control of the ball. You can’t see her face too clearly, but you know she’s scanning the field with the same intensity you see in Aaron’s face beside you. 

Isaac plops down on the bench behind you, home from Los Angeles for winter break. “How’s she doing?” 

Aaron half-turns his head, keeping his eyes on the field. “Going for a hat trick - if she makes it, it’ll be her third this season.” 

“Excellent.” 

Caroline, down the field with her choir group, lounges happily between the legs of one of her friends, eating popcorn. When she sees you looking, she waves at you.

You wave back for a moment before your attention’s caught by a collective gasp and Aaron’s hand shoots to your forearm. You turn back to the field, but you missed it. 

Everyone’s moving and you don’t know why. 

With shocking agility for his age, Aaron all but leaps down the bleachers and onto the field. Your eyes search for Soph, but there are too many people on the field, all of a sudden. 

Caroline’s standing on the seat of the bleachers, her friends steadying her with their hands on her arms and ankles. 

There’s a hand, soft and scared on your shoulder. “Mom?”

You open your arms, and your nearly-grown son ducks under it, curling into you as you stand. “Do you want your earbuds?” 

You feel him nod and you pull them out of your bag. His trembling quiets a little after he fits them in his ears. 

There’s a clamber, and Caroline appears at your side. “What happened?” 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t watching.” 

She exhales, shaky and worried. “Where’s Dad?” 

“On the field.”

But where? 

You find Aaron, his salt-and-pepper hair stark in the autumn light. He’s talking to the referee, his brows low. 

You hear sirens. 

+++

“Oh, hey! What’s up, Mom?” 

You almost hate to ruin his mood. 

“Jack, honey, can you get down to the house at any point tonight?” 

You try not to grip the handle above the car door too tightly as Aaron races through the suburban streets, following the ambulance. Soph was definitely lucid when they loaded her up, but definitely in a lot of pain. 

“Ye - Yeah...Why?” 

“Soph’s headed to the ER - something happened on the soccer pitch today and her knee…” You shake your head. “I dunno. Her knee looks really bad.” 

“Fuck. Okay.” You hear him shuffle around and click his mouse - checking his schedule. “I can get down there after my last meeting at four - I’m headed there in a few minutes, but won’t be able to swing any earlier. I’d cancel it, but it’s literally SecDef and the Joint Chiefs and -” 

“That’s fine - I just need someone at the house with the kids until one of us can get back. Elliot’s at baseball practice until six and I’m not sure if -” 

“I’ll be there. I’ll get El and then I’ll swing by for Isaac and Caro if they’re still with y’all down there.” 

You glance over at Aaron and nod. He heaves a sigh of relief and mouths Thank you. 

“Thanks, Jack.” 

“Yeah. See you soon. Love you.” 

“Love you, too.”

+++

When you’re finally allowed in to see Sophia, her eyes are red and puffy with tears. Her right leg is braced and elevated at the knee. 

Her doctor explains the situation - dislocated knee and splintered patella with a torn meniscus and ACL. “This kind of traumatic knee injury poses a couple of issues…” 

He explains that the rehabilitation and surgery needs for both the ACL and meniscus are exceedingly different, and “It’s entirely possible Miss Sophia will experience permanent joint damage. However, we won’t know that until we have an orthopaedic surgeon look at it tomorrow.” 

“What about sports? Can I still play?” Soph tries to sit up farther, but Aaron’s arm shoots out, locking her against the bed across her shoulders. 

The doctor looks hesitant, and it’s all she needs to burst into tears again. Aaron moves, sitting on the side of the bed and wrapping her up in his arms. He looks over her head at you and your lower lip disappears into your mouth as you meet his gaze. 

You shift your attention to your other children sitting patiently behind you.

Caroline’s practically bit her nails to the quick - her hands looking more and more like her Aunt Emily’s as the moments pass. 

Isaac’s been sitting in the wide windowsill for the entire afternoon, his headphones on, staring out the window, his mouth tight and fingers tearing into the foam stress ball you keep in your purse. 

We’ll need another one of those. Or five.

 You get a phone call, and you step out. “Hey, Jack.” 

“Hey. Just got Elliot. We’re headed over to the hospital now. How’s she doing?” 

You sigh and press a hand to your forehead. 

“Oh, shit. That bad?” He asks. 

You don’t comment on his tell pickup. It’s in his blood, at this point. “Yeah. She’s definitely out for the rest of the season, and we’re looking at some long-term stuff, too.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Hey! I’m still here and she’s gonna kick your ass if you keep swearing in front of me, dude.” Elliot shouts from the back and it almost makes you smile. 

“I’m actually inclined to agree with you, Jack. We’ve got a dislocated and splintered patella in addition to a torn meniscus and ACL. It’s going to be a long rehab.” 

You hear a deep sigh into the bluetooth system in Jack’s car. “Well, I’ll stay here for the duration.” 

“No, no honey it’s alright. Your dad is home full-time and you’ve got a huge project reaching critical stages. Your room is all ready for you, but you really don’t have to hang around if you can’t manage the drive every day. And Bella -”

“Bells is looped in. She’s fine. She’s more than happy to tag out if we need to. Her deadlines are really loose right now what with the whole ‘nothing going on in Arlington’ thing this week. She’s heartbroken for Soph and wants to help where she can.” 

“Alright.” 

“Hey,” He huffs, sounding a lot like his dad. “I’ll let you go. I’ll text when I’m outside.” 

“Okay. Thanks, bud.” 

“Of course,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Anytime.” 

+++

Sophia’s sleeping when Alice and Hank come to visit later in the evening. Aaron went home a couple hours after Jack, planning to tag out with you later so you could get some sleep in your own bed before work tomorrow. 

Alice immediately embraces you, all but falling into your lap as you hold her. She’s shaking.

“Is she okay?” 

You push her back, smoothing some wayward edges at her hairline. “She will be.” 

Alice’s dark eyes fill with tears, and you brush them off her cheeks as they fall. 

“She’ll need your help, though. It’s gonna be a long time before we figure out what’s permanent and what’s not.” 

Alice nods and retreats, sitting in the plastic chair by Soph’s side, folding her arms on the mattress and laying her head on them. “Hey, Sofa,” she whispers, though Soph can’t hear her. 

“I haven’t heard that one in a while,” you tell her. Sofa is a nickname Derek gave Sophia when she was little. No big meaning to it, but it stuck. 

You wouldn’t be surprised if she stayed there all night. 

Hank lingers by the door. In the shadow of the room, you could easily mistake him for Derek, but that concerned pull at the corners of his eyes screams Savannah. 

Eventually, he crosses the room and sits on the little lounger beside you. 

He takes your hand and you kiss his knuckles. “I bet this isn’t how you wanted to spend your winter break, huh?” 

A little laugh leaves him. “Maybe not, but little Miss Thing over here dragged me out the door before I could get two words in edgewise.” He gestures vaguely toward Alice and you actually smile. 

“Yeah. In my experience, Morgan women don’t fuck around.” 

“You got that right,” comes a voice from the doorway. It’s Savannah, fresh off her shift and still in her white coat and scrubs. She scours over Sophia’s charts and checks on her before sitting on your other side. 

“Do you want the bad news or the good-but-also-kind-of-bad news?” She asks, almost inaudible. You glance up at Soph but Savannah shakes her head. “She’s out - those pain meds will leave this entire visit a blur.” 

You sigh. “Fine. Hit me with the bad shit.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” 

Savannah rests her elbows on her knees. “I’ve seen a knee injury like this exactly once before. No matter what you do, they can’t and don’t always heal right. She could need a mobility device permanently, even after she’s healed, and I can tell you now she won’t play again.” 

That’s okay. She’s okay. 

Better soccer goes than her life. 

Soccer is her life. 

You only know that Alice can hear everything when her shoulders start to shake. She doesn’t make any noise as she cries. She’s like her dad that way. Hank stands and places a hand between her shoulder blades, but says nothing. 

“Is that the worst of it?” 

Savannah nods. “Yeah.” She takes a breath. “The kinda good news is that she’ll be totally fine no matter what obstacles she may run into. She’s tough. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Hotchner.”

She snorts. “Hell, I watched you bounce back from crazy life-threatening shit with a quip and a grin.” 

You raise your eyebrows and shrug. “I do what I can.” 

+++

Caroline curls into her father’s side, her double bed big enough to manage the both of them. It feels a lot like when she was little - she’d have nightmares or couldn’t fall asleep and Aaron would come and sit with her until her breath was even and slow.

“Dad?”

“Mhmm?”

“What’s Soph gonna do about college?” Caroline’s voice is small, nearly smothered in Aaron’s shirt. “She already has scouting offers and stuff.” 

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “I’m not sure. We’ll all have to figure it out together, won’t we?”

+++

Aaron steps into the room, closing the sliding glass door behind him. Alice, just as you predicted, snoozes next to Sophia, her head pillowed on her arms. Sophia’s upper body almost arcs around her and she managed to snag one of Alice’s hands in her adjustment. 

Those two…

Maybe he won’t escape the inevitable after all. 

Morgan-Hotchner? Hotchner-Morgan? 

He really only ever prepared to lose his name with Caroline. Soph always seemed far too… herself to take on a new one. 

We’ll see.

You’re asleep in the pull-out chair, your brow drawn and arms crossed over your chest. He approaches you as quietly as he can, putting his go bag down and sitting beside you. 

Much to his chagrin, you startle awake. 

“Sorry,” he says in a whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

You shake your head. “You didn’t.” Talking through your yawn, you add, “Just had a weird dream is all.” 

Aaron pulls you close and you relent, tucking into his side with a hand pressed to his chest. 

“Did Savannah come by?” He asks. 

You nod. 

“What did she say?” 

You sniff a little, more from the antiseptic smell than any emotional response - that will come later. “Soph won’t be able to play again unless fuckin’ divine intervention or some shit comes along and fixes her knee from scratch, but she’ll be able to move around just fine with a cane or brace or something after a while.” 

Aaron can only imagine it now - fits and righteous anger about getting around the house, watching games from the bench - the list could go on forever. “She’ll hate that.” 

You hum in agreement. “Just another parenting challenge. Already have the rest of the gamut covered neurodevelopmentally, so we were bound to get a physical challenge at some point.” 

“Never more than we can handle.” 

Shaking your head, you note, “This one just might do us in.” 

+++

“I swear to God, if I see you in the office at all this week I’m gonna smash your kneecaps in.” Emily pauses. “Sorry. Too soon?” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” You laugh a little and Soph sits up, her brow asking a question. 

You answer, pulling the phone away from your mouth. “Your Aunt Emily told me she’d smash my kneecaps if she saw me at the federal building this week.” 

Soph snorts. “Nice. We could match.” 

You reach over and tweak her nose. “We already match.” 

“Hey.” Emily grabs your attention again and you put your cell back to your ear. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to be here. Stay home for Soph right now and I’ll sign off on it and turn everything in for you.” 

You roll your eyes. “I can’t believe you turned into Rossi, Miss I’m Past Retirement Age But Twisted the Bureaus Arm to Let Me Work Myself to Death.”

She laughs and hangs up, leaving you and Sophia alone again in the hospital room. She tucks back into her Jello, taking bites that are way too big. 

“How are you feeling, bug?” You brush her cheekbone with your thumb and she shrugs. 

“Can you hand me my headband?” 

You reach over and dig around in her back until you find the wide swatch of colorful fabric. She takes it from you and shoves it over her head, pushing her hair back with practiced ease. 

She’s just like her dad. 

What? Loyal? 

Yeah. But also chronically avoidant. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

She huffs, playing with her fingers. “I’m fine. I think.” Her breath is shaky. “I can’t really tell with all the meds I’m on, but it feels… really bad.” 

When she looks over at you again, her eyes are glassy, tearful. “I know I can’t play again, maybe not even run.” 

You reach out for her hand, but don’t say anything. 

“Momma…” She pauses, looking down at her blanket. “Momma, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I feel like I only know how to play soccer. I don’t know how - I don’t know if I want to do anything else. I’ve never thought about it before.” 

You run your thumb over her knuckles. “Soph, you can do so much. You have a great strategic mind - you think in these big, creative webs. It’s such an asset.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not profiling you, baby,” you tell her with a smile. “I just know that about you because you’re my daughter.”

Her mouth twists. “Right.” She looks down when her phone buzzes. 

“Who is it?” 

The corners of her lips tip up. “It’s Alice. She’s asking me if I want anything from the drive thru.”

You mirror her little smile. “That’s nice of her.” 

“Yeah.”

+++

“Alright so you have twenty nuggets, large fries,” Alice digs around in the bag, taking things out as she speaks. “And… a vanilla milkshake.” 

“God, I love you.” Sophia wraps her hand around Alice's head and pulls her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

Alice laughs, deep from her chest. “Shit, Soph, if all I have to do to secure your love is get you crap chicken, sign me up.” 

“You could get damn close.” 

Aaron watches the girls sit beside each other in the bed, taking turns dipping their nuggets in the sauce. They’ve always been this way, exchanging barbs and affection in equal measure. Symbiotic in the extreme, one is never far from the other. 

You’re home, getting everyone else in bed and settled for the evening. Isabella drove in a night early - Jack’s headed back to D.C. apartment for a series of days-long meetings at the Pentagon regarding his latest project. 

Aaron’s excited to see her. It’s been a helluva thing to see his son married, even more surreal to know and love his son’s wife like his own daughters. 

His phone rings. 

Speak of the devil. 

“Hey, Bella.” 

Sophia looks over at the mention of her sister-in-law, and Alice looks beside herself with delight. As well as being a hit among the parents, Bella’s a winner with the kids, too. 

Some days, Caroline likes her more than she likes Jack. 

“Hey, Pops. Want to tag out?” 

“Sure. I’ll switch with you. How long do you want to be here?” 

He can almost hear her shrug. “Eh. I’ll spend the night. My column isn’t due until the end of the week and I’ve got it covered. Don’t need to work, don’t really need to sleep. Win-win.”

“If you say so.” 

“I do. I’ll be there in twenty.” 

She hangs up before Aaron can respond, so he just pockets his phone and takes the loss. Sophia, after taking a sip of her milkshake, asks. “Is Bella here all night?” 

“Yeah, bug. She’ll be here.” 

Soph and Alice share a look. 

+++

“Well, Bella has more patience than I do,” Aaron says, dropping his go bag at the bedroom door. “She’s stuck with H&M for the rest of the night at the hospital.” 

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m glad the girls have company, and fun company, at that.” 

“Fair enough.” 

The two of you quiet for a moment, and you tuck further under his arm, placing your hand over his heart. 

“Aaron?” 

His hand traces up and down your back, slow and steady. “Yeah?” 

“What can we do for her? She sounded so… defeated today.” 

And it’s true. You’ve never seen Soph like that, even at her lowest. If you were honest, it scared you a little. 

“We can be her parents. That’s all. And she’ll figure something out. If she needs to take a gap year, she’ll manage. She and Alice can search for programs together.” He sighs before he continues, leaning back to look at you. 

“All we can do is ask her what she needs and support her as best we can.” 

+++

tagging: @avengersbau @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygranger @hotchsflower​ @hotchslatte​ @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @kerrswriting @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @reids-mismatchedsocks @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @venusbarnes @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @nuvoleincielo @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @jhiddles03 @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me @itsalwaysb33nyou @finnologys @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @hothothotchner @happyvol7 @ssa-holmes @mac99martin @ssahotchner99 @triangularroses @vagabond-ing @itsmytimetoodream @magic_in_the_eyes_of_the_beholder

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #tali talks cm #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

epilogue

masterlist

Here it is my darlings! The epilogue! I fully expect you all to come for my head, but enjoy! It’s been a pleasure to write it!!-- chaotic puff

Y/N enjoyed the August sunshine as she wandered the market. Her life had been peaceful since coming to the Italian countryside taking on a new name, a new life. She had taken a job at a local restaurant and found them a small house bordering one of the olive orchards that littered the countryside where Mark was able to find a job. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was freedom, blessed freedom.

Italy had been good for her. There was no JB, no Namjoon, no mafia to worry about. No one knew her here. It was the fresh start she needed after her time in Korea. Here she was a Canadian woman from Quebec by the name of Alice Morin living with her husband of a year Matthew, also from Quebec. It was quiet. The only unexpected thing had been the baby.

The baby had been a rather rude surprise. She’d only just escaped Namjoon when she’d begun to show early signs. It had been a doctor in Prague, one that she was not entirely sure was practicing medicine legally, that had given them the news. She was several weeks along in a pregnancy that she had never wanted to begin with, but she was determined to make the best of it, even if the child was Namjoon’s. 

She could remember turning to Mark with panicked eyes once the doctor had given them the news. They were on the run. They were trying to start a new life. They were both still grieving the death of a dear friend, more than one on Mark’s part. But Mark had taken her hands in his and smiled at her and told her that it would all be alright, that they could do this. It would be her tiny miracle, not Namjoon’s. He would make sure of that.

Eventually they’d made their way to Italy, establishing themselves in the northern countryside. It was a good life, more peaceful than she had ever known. The village was out of the way, vineyards and olive trees and above all sunshine. She loved it there, and for the first time every she was able to enjoy a pregnancy. 

She’d been almost too scared to acknowledge the baby at first. Mark had been more invested than she had worrying over the constant movement and stress it would cause to her and the little buddy as Mark called him. They didn’t actually know the sex of the baby. Because of the restraints on both funds and access to proper medical care, Mark had chosen the remote Italian countryside, and had settled on using the local midwife to deliver the baby when the time came which left them with no clue of the baby’s gender. 

Little by little, she had been able to become more excited about the baby. The nonnas of the village were more than happy to help with the pregnancy teaching her how to knit and sow, helping her put together the nursery, teaching her how to make proper Italian food. She couldn’t say how many times, she’d heard her boss being scolded by the local nonnas about letting a pregnant woman work so much. Mark also got his fair share of scoldings from the nonnas. 

They’d melded into the village quite well after being there for so long now, they had their own routines and rituals, a peaceful life. Part of which included her weekly visit to the local church to light a candle for Jackson.

The church was one of her favorite parts of the village. It was small but beautiful, like so many other things in Italy. The local priest was always kind enough to say a few words to her before he left her in peace to grieve and contemplate in silence. She’d never been particularly religious before, but this brought her comfort. After her trip to the church, she’d go to the market before she walked home.

“Buongiorno, bella donna!” An old man she bought flowers from every week called out as she came into view of his stall.

“Buongiorno, signore!” Her smile was bright, happy as she walked over “Come stanno i fiori oggi?” She asked looking over the flowers he had laid out.

“Oggi abbiamo bellisime dalie. Il tuo italiano sta diventando motto buono.” He complimented with a wrinkled smile already preparing the dahlias he had just mentioned. It was their tradition. Every week she would ask about the flowers, and he would tell her what he thought was the most beautiful that week and prepare a bunch for her.

“Grazie.”

“Come sta il bambino?” He asked motioning to the rather large swell of her belly.

“Calcia come un giacatore di futbol.” She replied with a tired but happy smile looking down at her belly with playful exasperation. She swore that the little one was trying to kill her from the inside out sometimes or at least enjoyed using her organs as a punching bag. “Sono pronto per la sua nascita.”

“Quanto tempo fino alla nascita, Alicia?” He asked handing her the bunch of dahlias.

“Sei settimane.”

“Cosí presto!” He cheered as she paid for the flowers. “Non veds l’ora di incontrare il piccolo. Io e mia moglie ci piacerebbe averti a cena quando nasce il piccolo.”

“Grazie. Mi piacerebbe molto. Ciao, signore!”

“Ciao, bella donna!”

She continued through the market stopping at stalls and bopping into the bakery to pick up some fresh bread all the while oblivious to the dark gaze that followed her movements. He watched as she laughed with vendors and smiled at the Italian boys that paid her compliments. His blood boiling. That was his wife, and she was pregnant with his child, and yet she was here with Mark. He was getting to play the father to Namjoon’s child. 

He’d been searching for her for months. Her disappearance had wreaked havoc on the manor, had wreaked havoc on him, but here she was perfectly alive and well and happy, and with another man no less. The entire organization had gone through an in depth cleansing, and GOT7 had been dealt with for good, all in preparation to bring her home. There was only one more pest to take care of.

 Namjoon had never once doubted that he would find her. There was nowhere in the world she could hide from him, though he was impressed by how long she had managed to hide from him. It had been eight months since he had last seen her, eight torturous months, but that would all be over soon.

It took every ounce of his self-control not to take her right then and there, but there were too many people there now for her to take her now. She would be in his arms soon enough though, and then she would never leave him again. To say he was shocked when he’d received news of her with a picture of her swollen belly would have been an understatement. He hadn’t even known she was pregnant at the time of her escape, but both she and their child would be home soon. From the look of her, it wouldn’t be long until they welcomed their little one into the world. Namjoon had immediately started preparations for both her and the baby as soon as he’d found her. Everything would be perfect for her and their child. All that was left to do was to bring her home. Her pest was already on his way back to Korea to suffer a slow and torturous death by Namjoon’s own hand. 

Namjoon followed her home carefully following her in watching from the shadows as she clipped the stems of the flowers and arranged them in a vase in her kitchen humming softly as she did.

“Hey, Tono.” She cooed as a cat jumped up on the counter next to her. She smiled down at the creature gently rubbing it behind the ears. “How did you get in here? You don’t live here, silly kitty.” 

She didn’t seem bothered though by the cat’s presence even if it wasn’t hers. She continued about her business arranging the flowers in their vase occasionally cooing at the creature in a mixture of Italian and English. Eventually moving into singing silly Italian children’s songs to the cat as it basked in the sunshine on her kitchen counter. 

The cat knew something she didn’t though his hair standing on end and hissing before jumping out of the open kitchen window much to her confusion. 

“Tono?” She asked moving over to the window to see where the cat went. 

“Hello, jagi.” He cooed coming up behind her wrapping his arms around her waist so that his hands rested against her belly as he breathed her scent in. “Did you miss me?”

She gasped dropped the vase to the floor as she spun around to face the man who still haunted her nightmares. “Namjoon.” She whimpered backing up until she was pressed back against the counter. “Don’t come any closer!” She yelped grabbing a knife and brandishing it in his direction. “Where’s Mark?” 

“Put the knife down, jagi.” He sighed approaching her slowly. “You’re already in enough trouble don’t you think?”

“Get away from me.” She whimpered keeping the knife pointed in his direction her eyes flashing wildly as she looked for an escape. “What did you do to Mark?”

“It’s time to go home, jagi.” He cooed growing increasingly annoyed by her asking after the other man.

“I’m not going back there.” She hissed inching her way towards the door.

“You don’t have much choice, jagiya.” He chuckled darting forward and grabbing her wrist, He pulled her closing putting pressure on her wrist to an almost painful amount until she released the knife with a clatter. He wrapped her in his arms again pulling her into his chest tightly though keeping her belly in mind, not wanting to hurt her or the baby. 

“Stop fighting me.” He hissed holding her still even as she struggled against him. “It isn’t good for the baby.”

“You son of a bitch.” She hissed continuing her struggles.

“That’s no way to talk to your husband, jagi, especially not after the trouble you’ve caused.”  He growled tamping down his annoyance at her continued defiance. Didn’t she know that there was no escape for her now? “Think of the baby, jagi.”

It was those words that ceased her struggles as she hung in his arms. She couldn’t risk hurting the baby even if it meant she had to go with Namjoon.

“That’s my good girl.” He cooed moving his hands to rest against her belly again. “It wasn’t very nice of you to hide our baby from me, but it will all better once we’re home.” He assured her 

She shuddered but didn’t fight anymore as the baby stirred uncomfortably responding to her distress. “Wait!” She yelped pulling against his hold again as he began to drag her out of the house. “Please wait!”

His gaze was annoyed as he looked back at her. “I have waited. Seven months is a long time, jagi.” He spat tugging her forward again.

“Please, I just need to grab something. Please, it’s for the baby.” He quirked a brow at her curiously as she looked up at him with desperate, frightened eyes. “Please.” She begged again eyes watering as she pulled against his hold.

“If you’re lying to me, jagi…” He warned but released her wrist and following her closely as she moved through the little house to the bedroom where a crib was situated by the window. The village had made that for them when she’d first started to show. Placed carefully over the edge of the crib was a blanket hand knitted with love for the baby.

She picked up the blanket folding it against her chest tightly almost like a shield. “I made it for the baby.” She breathed out with a shuddering under his harsh gaze.

He nodded lips set in a grim line before placing a firm hand against her back and leading her out of the house, shuffling her into the car that was waiting outside her home. They drove through the village to what she assumed was an airport waiting to take her back to her gilded cage, back to their game, and it was time to decide what to do, now that the chips were down. 

to be continued...

Italian translation: May not be entirely accurate. My Spanish is much better than my French (which is dismal), and my Italian is practically non-existent much to the shame of my godfather. 

good morning, beautiful lady.

good morning sir. How are the flowers today?

we have beautiful dahlias today. Your Italian is becoming very good.

thank you. 

how is the baby?

he kicks like a futbol player. I’m ready for him to be born. 

how long till the birth?

six weeks

so soon! My wife and I would love to have you for dinner after the birth. I can’t wait to meet the little one.

thank you. I would love to. goodbye sir. 

goodbye, beautiful lady.

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts rm #bts namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #mafia namjoon #yandere namjoon #yandere #soft yandere #rm x reader #rm #mafia #mafia au #dark romance #fanfic #a dangerous game