#he had them and coming to terms with it but now a year or so later what’s the situation? and the situation is that it’s the same.

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Bruce Wayne, mentor to many- father to none.

I want the angst of B having to come to terms that he doesn't know ANY of his kids not anymore at least and maybe never and the fact his kids are just- used to it?

Visiting Dicks apartment, he finds a picture of him smiling while surrounded by a bunch of little kids in spandax uniforms. Turns out he'd been a gymnastics instructor for about four years now and his most recent team had everyone qualify for state. (Bruce didn't even know he still practiced)

Jason stopped accepting Wednesday night patrols, but when he looked into it he found out that was the night he went to DND nights with his roommates every week. The roommates he met last semester after he decided to go to college and get an english major. (Bruce didn't even know he had applied)

Checking the library he found a small pedastal plague put up by Alfred displaying just one book. It said Cass was the author. Apparently she had gotten super into writing and published a book talking about language deprivation and lack of accomidation for deaf/hoh children born to hearing families. She had a book signing last month, Alfred had gone and grabbed this copy now on display (Bruce didn't even know she liked to write)

Tim finished a case early and let it slip he needed to sign off early to "meet up with his boyfriends" and hung up before Bruce could process. It only took a small glance at his middle child's latest social media post to see him alongside Superboy (what was his name?) and a blonde boy he didn't recognize. Both were leaned in to kiss his cheek and the caption said "Happy 3rd anniversary!!" (Bruce didn't even know he was interested in boys)

Steph's birthday came around and Bruce got her a new account and shoved a couple thousand for her to buy whatever she wanted. But he quickly noticed a pattern of everyone getting her- cat supplies? Apparently She had adopted a cat about a month ago to celebrate her new apartment, Mister Mystery was his name, and she had asked everyone for supplies instead of other gifts. (Bruce didn't even know she had moved)

He decided on some impromptu father-son bonding and tries to track down his youngest. But Damian is nowhere to be found. He gets pretty close to calling an emergency meeting but the moment he messages Oracle she reminds him Damian is in Chicago. Damian had won an art competition at school and his piece qualified for a gallery spot. The entire family had gone days ago and he was due back the next day. (Bruce didn't even know he cared about art)

Then Duke- his youngest in terms of time spent. But one he had grown fond of just as fast as the others. Especially working the day shift the time they spent was limited. Bruce got them both lunch, but it wasn't until halfway through eating that Duke had turned to him with panicked eyes and asked if the stew had shellfish. Duke had a severe allergy, thankfully Jason had been just up the street and had an epi-pen ready before they took him to Leslies. (Bruce didnt even know he had any allergies, let alone one so severe)

The worst part? There was no blow up. His kids didn't take his idiocracy as a personal insult or even raise a fight. They just rolled their eyes and moved on. As everyone crowded in the room, surrounding Dukes bedside he could hear Barbras voice. "Its not your fault, Batman may be omnipotent, but Bruce doesn't know anything really"

He wasnt meant to overhear or maybe he was, Oracle had always been petty But he couldn't refute it.

"But you have us"

Well- thats just it wasnt it? Even when Bruce was absent- his kids had each other. But was that ever meant to be enough?

#bad parenting #bad parent bruce wayne #bruce wayne bashing #batdad #batsiblings #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #tim drake #timberkon #timkon #timbern #bernard dowd #konner kent #stephanie brown #damian wayne #duke thomas #barbara gordon #alfred pennyworth #character analysis #sunny rambles #bat siblings #batfam #batfamily

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ sometimes goodbye is a second chance ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : Jack and his ex reunite at Nico’s wedding, reigniting some old feelings between the pair

warning(s) : a heavy makeout session, mentions of injured!jack & hockey injuries

author’s note : was reading something for jack then realized that it’s been a hot second since i wrote anything for him so that’s how this lil thing was born lmaoo. enjoy loves

༺═──────────────═༻

She wasn't going to go to the wedding. As a matter of fact, she made sure she had plans for that weekend that she was supposed to be in Switzerland so she could use them as an excuse to why she couldn't be there for the wedding.

Then Nico did everything but get on his hands and knees to beg her to come since she is one of his close friends. How could she say no to those big doe eyes that the captain of the Devils has? Even she's not immune to those eyes of his.

It's a beautiful day when she arrives for the wedding. Nico waits for her by baggage claim when she walks into Bern Airport after getting off the plane that brought her to Switzerland. She smiles and runs up to her close friend. Despite everything that happened right after the new year, she and Nico stayed close.

Well, as close as they could be while she was busy avoiding one of his teammates.

When she gets to Nico, she wraps her arms around him. "So happy you could come," Nico tells her as they back away from each other. "Mia is even excited that you're here."

"Nico, I can't ever say no to either of you," she teases. "I'm happy that I came too though. Forgot how beautiful it is here."

She grabs her suitcase and duffel bag before she walks outside to Nico's car. "So, all the guests are at the hotel already since the rehearsal dinner is tonight on the roof," he tells her as they load her stuff into the car. "There's probably enough time for you to take a nap if you want to take one since I know you're a big napper after you travel." She playfully punches his shoulder as soon as she's settled in the passenger's seat. "I'm just saying that you came in eight hours before the dinner so you have time to sleep if you want!"

"You don't have to call me a 'big napper'," she retorts with a smile on her face. Nico sticks his tongue out at her. "Oh, how grown up. Aren't you getting married tomorrow?"

"And my fiancé finds it cute when I stick my tongue out at her."

"Doesn't work on me, Nico. Hate to break it to you."

After about twenty minutes of driving, Nico pulls up to the hotel. She looks up at the building with a sigh.

The entire drive, her mind has been on her ex-boyfriend. She knows that he'll be here, but she doesn't know if he's already here.

Nico turns the car off as soon as he finds a parking spot. She sighs and unbuckles her seatbelt. She waits to get out though. She doesn't know how she feels about running into Jack, but right now she's very anxious.

It's not that they ended on bad terms. She just couldn't watch him keep playing and risking long term damage to his shoulder.

He kept forcing himself to get back on the ice before his body was ready and he wasn't able to heal correctly. She couldn't bear to watch him keep hurting himself, so she walked away.

Of course she kept tabs on him throughout the rest of the season after she walked away in January. It broke her heart to miss the Stadium Series game because she was looking forward to seeing both him and Luke play. She was ecstatic when she saw online that he was going to be getting surgery on the shoulder that he hurt in the game against Chicago.

She didn't reach out though. She didn't think she had the right.

"I know you're worried about seeing him," Nico states. "I made sure that your rooms were on different floors so you won't see each other until later. He, um ..." he trails off. "He tells me all the time how much he wishes he listened to you and let his body heal."

"He only keeps saying that because he wishes he never lost me," she comments as she blinks away the tears that have formed in her eyes. "I walked away because I couldn't keep watching him hurt himself to play a sport. I know he loves it, but he loved it more than he loved me so I walked away."

"He got surgery back in April," Nico tells her. "Before the season even ended to get a head start on his recovery. He started doing physical therapy two weeks ago so he's doing well. He'll get back on the ice in a month. I told him to take it easy."

A tear rolls down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away. "Why couldn't he just do this sooner?" she says. Her voice is so shaky that she can barely speak.

Nico grabs her hand. "He needed to lose you to realize that what he was doing was not okay," he replies. "I know how hard it's been for you. Both of you. I think that the two of you should talk this weekend. For both your sakes."

She shakes her head and looks at Nico. "I don't know if I can face him after walking away from him," she cries. "You didn't see the look on his face when I left the apartment that day, Nico. You didn't see how much I hurt him when he was already in physical pain. I don't know if he even wants to talk to me after that. I kicked him when he was already down."

He pulls her across the armrest and into a hug. She cries into his shoulder and grasps onto his t-shirt. "He's worried that you won't talk to him," he admits. "Just so you know. If you want to talk to him, do it. You both need some closure."

The worst part is that she knows it too. She walked away and didn't reply to a single one of his texts or calls. She moved to Philadelphia to her brother's apartment so she was just far enough away that he couldn't drive to her but close enough if something happened to him.

She never stopped caring, and she should probably tell him that.

With a nod, she pulls away. "Okay," she sighs. "I'll talk to him. Only if he wants to talk to me though."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She doesn't talk to Jack at the rehearsal dinner. As a matter of fact, she doesn't even see him at the rehearsal dinner. There aren't a ton of people at the dinner either so she thought that she would see him. It surprises her that she didn't.

Getting ready the next afternoon though, she knows that today will be the day she sees him. At least she'll look her best when he sees her for the first time since she walked out on that cold January day. Same goes for him. Jack's always looked good in a suit and tie. She wonders which one of his game day suits he'll be in today.

Three rolls around and she heads from her second floor hotel room down to the first floor. She'd walk down the stairs if her feet weren't already killing her from the heels she has on.

The ceremony is taking place in the ballroom because of how many guests will be attending. The reception and dinner are taking place up on the rooftop at five so Nico and his new wife can get some pictures taken up there before everyone joins them.

Elevator doors open and she's met with the one person she's been wanting to avoid until the reception tonight. Jack freezes like a deer in headlights, but his eyes drink her in as she steps onto the elevator.

It's not like she's wearing something very revealing. The top of her red dress hugs her body, shoves off her curves, and pushes her breasts up a little bit. Her loose sleeves hang off her shoulders. The skirt falls to her knees and is kind of puffy.

"Uh, hi," Jack breathes out as the door closes behind her. "You, um, look good."

"Hi," she replies as she runs her fingers through her curls. "You too. Um, look good." His red tie with his black and white suit matches her red dress. Nico definitely told him what color that she was going to wear.

His eyes flicker down her body again and she feels self-conscious of the way her dress hugs her body. She crosses her arms over her chest and prays that the doors open soon.

Jack quickly picks up on how uncomfortable she is. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Stare?" she interrupts. "It's fine." The elevator dings and the doors slide open behind her. "I'll see you around."

She quickly makes her escape. Her heels are muffled by the carpet but she finds the room that she knows Nico is in.

After she knocks a handful of times, the door opens. Nico is the one that opens the door. He looks handsome in his suit and tie. He has a white rose hanging out of his flap on his jacket. "Oh, don't you look nice dressed up," she comments.

Nico rolls his eyes and lets her in the room. "Oh, shush," Nico retorts. She looks behind him as she walks into the room to and sees his older brother, his dad, Timo, and Jonas.

"Hi," she says to everyone in the room. "Just needed to come talk to Nico for a second. Won't keep him very long. I swear."

"What's going on?" Nico questions behind her.

She turns to face him. "I ran into Jack," she replies. "Wearing a red tie. Want to tell me why he was wearing a red tie when I'm wearing a red dress?"

He shoots her a smile. "Purely coincidental," Nico tells her. "He does play on a team that wears red and black so many he was missing the team when he picked out his tie."

"Nico Hischier, I'm going to kill you on your wedding day if you don't start talking in the next two seconds," she snaps.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Nico laughs as he throws his hands up in the air in surrender. “I have no idea why Jack’s wearing a red tie. I didn’t tell him what you were wearing if that’s why you came marching in here to yell at me.”

She sighs and rubs her fingers through her curls. “Okay,” she replies. “I think I’m just losing it or something. Kind of freaking out.”

“Have you talked to him?” asks Timo. She looks over Nico’s shoulder to look at him. “I mean, it might solve that unresolved tension between you. It’s so thick that I can feel it when he’s not even in the room.”

With a blink of her eyes, she says, “I can’t believe I never thought of talking to him. Wow.”

Timo rolls his eyes and Nico takes over the conversation. “Look, I know you’re avoiding him because you think he doesn’t want to talk to you,” he begins to say. “But even Timo and Seigs can attest to this, Jack wants to talk to you. Seriously. He’s nervous you won’t talk to him. You’ll be in the same area for the rest of the day. Please say more than just ‘you look good’ to him.”

She groans in slight frustration. “You are insufferable,” she tells her close friend. “Good luck Mia.”

There’s laughter behind her as she walks out of the room to get to where the ceremony is taking place in one of the larger rooms.

It’s almost like a very large conference room with a lot of chairs. There has to be nearly a hundred chairs in the room. She greets Nico’s mom and sister as well as some of his Devils teammates.

Across the room, she sees Jack talking to his brothers. All three of them look very handsome. That’s when she realizes that Jack’s arm isn’t in a sling like he was the last time she saw a picture of him. She was too shocked earlier in the elevator to notice that he doesn’t have on a sling. His hair is a little longer than it was a few months ago. He smiles at something Quinn said.

She takes her seat right behind the Devils, sitting right behind Jack of all people. He sits between Haula and Merc.

When she goes to say something, the ceremony starts.

Talking to Jack is just going to have to wait.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There’s an hour between when the ceremony ends and the reception begins so Nico and Mia can take pictures up on the roof. She needs to touch up her makeup since she decided to cry while Nico was saying his vows. Her best friend grew up so much since they met back at the 2017 NHL draft.

A lot of the guests have already made their way to the roof when she gets up there. She grabs a glass of champagne from a tray that a waiter is holding and takes a big gulp of it to prepare her for the night to come.

She spots Dawson, Luke, Jesper, and Simon all standing by the railing. No Jack so it’s safe to approach despite his little brother standing there. She hopes that Luke doesn’t hate her guts for breaking his brother’s heart.

When she approaches the group of Devils, Dawson gets excited. “Oh my God, I didn’t think you were coming,” he says as he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“And miss a Swiss wedding?” she laughs. “Absolutely not. I wasn’t about to skip out on Nico’s wedding.” The boys laugh, even Luke. Her eyes fall on the youngest of the Hughes boys. “And how are you, baby Hughes? Still settling in well with the team?”

Luke nods with a smile. “The guys have been very welcoming,” he tells her. “Helped me out of that slump I was in.”

She mirrors his smile. “That’s great,” she says. “Glad you were able to come in and get right to it. Being a Calder nominee isn’t an easy feat so I wanted to come congratulate you on your rookie season.”

“Thank you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Jack. He stands with Dougie, Dawsy, Haula, and Nico. Mia stands with her arm hooked with her new husband’s.

Luke, Dawson, and Nemec all walk away to get another drink. Jesper stands next to her. “How many times have you been told to talk to him?” Bratter asks.

“Too many so please don’t-”

“I’m not. I was just going to offer to go get him if you did want to talk to him.”

She sighs and finishes her glass of champagne. “I want to talk to him but do you really think he’ll listen to me if I apologize?” she comments.

“I do,” Bratter replies. She looks up at him. “I mean it. He has been kicking himself for months. I know he misses you. I don’t know if he misses your relationship or just you in his life but he misses you. I think talking to him is worth it.”

She turns her head to look at Jack. He looks happy and she doesn’t want to ruin that. “What if I just upset him?” she questions. “I don’t want to ruin his happiness.”

“He’s not truly happy without you,” Jesper says. “Talk to him. I think he’ll listen to what you have to say. Maybe he will even offer his own apology to you. I’ll be right back.”

Then he walks away. She watches him walk up to Jack and say something to him. She stands straight up and sighs when Jack looks over at her. She puts a smile on her face and heads over to the group.

It’s now or never. It’s early in the evening so neither of them are drunk yet. She’s had just enough alcohol to give her the courage to have this conversation with Jack.

All eyes are on her, but her eyes are on Jack. “Hi,” she breathes out. “Can we talk for a second? Please? Alone?”

Jack nods and hands his drink to Dougie. She shoots a smiling Nico a glare as she turns and walks inside so they’re away from the prying eyes of Jack’s teammates and her mutual friends that she has with Nico. They’re all very nosy.

She finds a little room off to the side that she walks into with a sigh. She picks at the skin around her fingernails out of nerves.

This is truly it. The next few minutes are either going to make or break whatever relationship or friendship they have left. She bites the inside of her cheek as she turns and faces Jack.

“What did you want to-” Jack begins to say before she interrupts him.

“I want to apologize,” she quickly replies. “For that night. For ignoring all your calls and texts after. I shouldn’t have given you that ultimatum. Not at that moment, anyway. I caused you emotional pain while you were in so much physical pain.”

Jack’s face falls into a frown as she talks. He starts to shake his head the longer she talks. “No, you had every right to give me that ultimatum,” he tells her. “I pushed myself way too hard and losing you opened my eyes to just how hard I was pushing myself. To what I was putting my body through. I didn’t understand why at first but now I do. I’m sorry that I saw that too late.”

Tears form in her eyes at the softness of his voice. She wasn’t expecting this Jack when she talked to him.

“I thought you’d be mad,” she admits. “I thought you’d want to yell at me for walking away. For ending it.”

“I was mad,” Jack says. “Believe me. I was so mad that I pushed myself even harder for a few weeks. Then there was setback after setback and I finally understood why.”

The tears that formed in her eyes roll down her cheeks, painting her skin black with eyeliner. She should’ve grabbed her waterproof eyeliner but she didn’t.

She stares across the room at her ex. Neither of them say a word for a second, before she asks the question she has wanted to know the answer to for nearly six months.

“Why did you do it?” she asks. “Why did you have to push yourself so hard and risk long term damage? Don’t tell me it’s because you love hockey and put your all into the sport. You shouldn’t have to push yourself to the point of surgery.”

Jack looks down at his feet and she raises her eyebrows. She presses her lips in a tight line as she waits for him to respond.

The answer she gets is not the one she was ready for.

“I thought that no one would care about me or love me if I wasn’t playing hockey,” Jack mumbles. “All anyone has talked about this season is me and my brothers. Hughes Bowl, me getting to 100 points after hitting 99 last season, whatever about me and Luke playing together. It seemed like no one would give a shit about me if I had stopped mid-season to heal. It seemed like everyone would write me off as weak or get mad at me for taking care of my shoulder. So I pushed you away and pushed myself to play until we got eliminated from contention so no one could blame me for missing playoffs. I didn’t want to be the reason we missed playoffs, but it feels like I am anyway.”

She frowns at his response. She had no idea that he felt this way.

There’s some space between them so she takes a few steps forward so she stands in front of him. “You could have talked to me,” she softly tells him. “I was willing to support you through whatever you needed to do to be healthy. Yet you seemed to care more about hockey than me.”

He lifts his head up and that’s when she sees the tears in his eyes. She pouts at the sight.

“I didn’t want you to see me at my lowest, and I’m sorry for pushing you away,” Jack comments. “I love you and I didn’t want you to see that side of me. I love you more than I have ever loved hockey. I should’ve listened to you when you told me to rest and I didn’t. I should have.” He pauses for a second and meets her eyes. “I never should have let you walk out that door.”

She reaches up to dry his cheeks when the tears begin to roll. “You know that everyone would still love and care about you if you had just pressed pause on the season,” she tells him. “Everyone that loves you would’ve supported you if you just let your body heal. No one likes seeing a player push himself to surgery. I would have stayed and helped you instead of loving and supporting you from afar.”

Jack leans down and rests his forehead on hers. His eyes are closed and her hands rest on his jaw. Her thumbs trace his cheekbones and her eyes remain on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Jack softly says.

“I’m sorry for walking out on you when you needed me,” she tells him. “I kicked you when you were down and it wasn’t fair of me to do that to you. I’m sorry I broke your heart.”

He wraps his hands around her wrists before he pulls them down so he can lace their fingers together. He doesn’t pull his forehead away and she doesn’t move either.

“You never broke my heart,” he whispers to her. “I broke yours by choosing hockey over you. I never wanted you to feel like I loved a sport more than you and that’s what I did. It’s my fault.”

She shakes her head and pulls back. Jack’s eyes open and he looks at her. His blue eyes shine with tears. “Even after everything, I still love you,” she admits. “I don’t believe that you can break my heart, Jack Hughes.”

He lets out a light laugh and shakes his head. “Same for you,” he tells her.

A small smile forms on her lips as she looks up at him. He lets one of her hands go to wipe away her tears. His thumb comes away black and he wipes her eyeliner on his black pants.

“Can I get a redo?” Jack asks. “On that ultimatum that you gave me? I have an answer for you.”

She bites the inside of her cheek before she asks in reply, “Is it going to be me? Or is it going to be your career?”

“It’s you, baby,” Jack instantly replies as he lifts his hand to cup her jaw. “It’ll always be you.”

The smile on her face grows. She licks her bottom lip as he pulls her in for a soft kiss. She hesitates for a second before she returns the kiss.

Jack drops her other hand so he can cup the other side of her jaw. Her fingers grasp at his open suit jacket so he can’t get too far. She wraps her arms around his torso under his jacket.

He takes a few steps forward so her back is pressed against a wall. She gasps as soon as her back hits the cool, smooth surface, but she doesn’t break the kiss. Jack leans down into her to deepen the already deep kiss. She presses herself flush against him.

His hands slide down to her waist before they slip behind her back. She feels his fingers graze the zipper and that’s when she pulls back. “Jack,” she sighs. “Not now.”

“Later though?”

“We’ll see,” she replies. “I think we should go back out. I’m sure Nico’s looking for us.”

Jack takes a few steps back to fix himself. She takes the moment to make sure she’s presentable as well.

With a sigh, she grabs Jack’s hand and they leave the room. Their fingers are laced together as they rejoin the reception. “So, how are we going to explain this to our friends?” Jack asks.

“We’ll just tell them that we got our heads out of our asses and apologized to each other,” she replies. “That we still love each other. I think saying goodbye gave us a second chance to do this the right way.”

They turn a corner and find themselves back on the roof with the rest of the party. “It did,” Jack says. She looks up at him. “Are you my girlfriend again? Or do I have to get down on my knees to beg you like I did the first time?”

She shakes her head with a laugh. “I’d like to see you get on your knees for a different reason so yes, I guess I’m you’re girlfriend again,” she tells him.

Jack presses a quick kiss to her lips, but every single one of their friends has already noticed.

“About damn time!” Nico shouts from across the room. A few of the Devils cheer for them and she steps even closer to her boyfriend.

༺═──────────────═༻

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[angel5ofp0rn]

PT 2 / PT 3 😋

been thinking ab this post 4ever and need to get it out tbh.

ExHusband!Price x afab!reader

**I’ve never done something like this b4 and I haven’t proofread so pls be nice 2 me ._. **

You have been divorced from your ex husband John Price for two years. Still, he comes over and shovels your driveway for you every time it snows.

He’s come inside and warmed up in the mudroom nearly every 15-20 minutes, puffing hot breath into his hands and rubbing them together for warmth before stepping back out and shoveling again.

You meet him in the mudroom for his fourth warm-up break and hand him a mug of hot coffee. Dash of cream, one sugar.

“Still how you take your coffee, right?” You offer a small smile, hugging your arms around yourself as John takes a sip from the mug.

“Still the same.” He nods before he takes another sip, the small smile that had appeared at the corner of his mouth quickly fading.

He leans up against the doorframe, the shovel leaning against the wall next to him. He peers out of the door's window, checking over his work.

“I'll get goin' soon enough. It ain't snowing right now, the drive's nearly clear.”

You thank him again, even though you never asked him to do this in the first place. You can’t help but look up at him, meeting his blue eyes for just a moment.

Before he could reply, your two children came running around the corner cheering and squealing when they saw their dad.

John's smile brightens at their presence, his body language immediately softening as he squatted down to their level.

“Hey, my little monkeys. Come give yer ol’ dad a hug.” He opens his arms out wide, inviting both of them to come to him. It doesn't take long before they both go crashing into him, squealing, smiling. Their giggles filled the small room.

You just smile. Even if you and John aren’t always on the best of terms, you can’t deny that he’s a great father.

“Daddy’s cold.” Your youngest shivers a bit from hugging their dad, who still had snow on his clothes and frost on his beard from shoveling.

John tries to shrug it off, but you ask him to stay and warm up for a while.

For the kids, of course.

Plus dinner is nearly ready, and you definitely made too much for just you and the kids, anyway.

More cheering, more squealing, more giggling as John finally agrees and kicks his boots off, hanging his coat on the hook.

John’s blue eyes scan the new decor and different paintings on the wall, but he doesn’t comment on how much the place has changed since he moved out.

After dinner, the two of you stand in the doorway as you watch the kids play together in their playroom, that used to be John’s “man cave”.

“They're gonna make you tuck them in.” You mention, sipping your glass of wine.

John smiles, a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“Maybe you can convince them to go up and brush their teeth?” You lower your wineglass and offer a fake, pleading pout.

He looks down for a moment, pretending not to see the gesture. Instead, he looks back to the children.

“Right then, you two little monkeys. It’s gettin’ late. Go on up and brush your teeth. I’ll come tuck you in.”

Both children protest for a while, but eventually give in without too much of a fight. That’s a new one.

John lets out a chuckle as the children roll their eyes and go up the stairs. He watches them disappear from view before turning and meeting your eyes again, still smiling for this small victory.

As if he had just realized he was staring, John’s eyes darted down into his now empty mug.

"Let me take that." You reach for his mug but he shakes his head.

"I haven’t forgotten where the kitchen is," He smiles a bit. "'ll clean up and then tuck the kids in."

John makes his way over to the kitchen, placing it in the sink and starting water. You follow, and notice that he was also washing the dishes from dinner as well.

“John, you don’t have to-“

“I know.”

And that’s that.

You chew your bottom lip. This looked too familiar. It felt too familiar.

"I'm... gonna go check on them and get them in their pj's." You gesture to the stairs in the hall.

He looks up at you briefly and nods; "Be up in a bit, lovie.”

Once the water is emptied from the sink, he starts loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Once completed, he starts to wipe down the counters and stovetop, wanting to make sure he left no mess behind. Then he trekked back up the stairs to tuck in the kids.

You’re downstairs again, on the living room sofa. You wanted to let John have a moment alone with the kiddos before he left again.

He makes his way down the stairs and sees you sitting there in the dim lighting. He clears his throat a bit as he walks through the living room and back into the mudroom.

“They're tucked in. Not a whisper from ‘em.” He mentions casually as he gets his snow boots back on.

You thank him, turning to watch him leave, but notice him looking out of the door window and pause. So you make your way over to the door to see what he’s seeing.

It's started snowing and the driveway is completely covered again. It looks like he hasn't even shoveled.

John lets out a grunt of disbelief and sighs, pulling on his beanie and reaching for the shovel once again.

“Don't-“ You shake your head, placing your hand on the shovel. “It's snowing hard, there's no point in shoveling it all up just for it to be covered again. Why don't you... stay on the couch or something tonight.”

He stares down at the shovel for a moment, debating it. After a beat, he sighs a bit, nodding.

“I... could do that.”

You go upstairs to the bedroom and bring John some extra pillows and blankets to make a bed on the couch with.

You set everything on the coffee table and the two of you sit on the couch for a moment, just catching up and chatting about the kids.

“The kids both want to do soccer in the spring.” You mention, your cheeks a bit rosy from the wine you had with dinner.

“Football.” He corrects with a small smirk. You roll your eyes.

“Let me pay for the lessons.” He says; not asking.

Of course you refuse.

Of course he insists.

You settle on splitting it.

Then it happens again. Your eyes meet his. Neither one of you speaks. Suddenly you’re transported back to the first night you met; you were newly 21 and already tipsy when your eyes met those of an older man in his fatigues as he sat at the bar. You remember drunkly telling the older man that he had the prettiest blue eyes, and that you wanted a hundred of his babies that looked just. like. him.

You have two, at least.

“Oh!” You sit up a bit straighter, snapping out of your daydream. “I was going to ask you to look at something on my laptop. It's doing that thing again. It's upstairs.” You get up and head to your home office, John right behind you.

You open your laptop and hand it to John. He knew how to fix it last time, so it should take him no time.

He sits in your office chair and you step away into your bedroom across the hall to get into a pair of pajama shorts and a hoodie, since it's getting late.

The laptop whirred softly before he got it running again. Only took a minute. He sets it on the desk, leaning back in your chair with his hands behind his head as he looks up through the open door where you can be found, changing in the bedroom.

You were his wife at one point, anyway. Isn’t something he hasn’t seen before…

After you’ve changed, you lay on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you wait for John to fix the issue with your laptop, unaware that he was watching. Unaware that the laptop has been fixed for a while now, and he was just wasting time.

Eventually, his voice wafts through the doorway.

“Think I got it, love-“ He pauses for a moment. “Er, Y/N.”

“Ugh, thank you.” You sigh and sit up, taking the laptop from him and setting it on your nightstand. “Stupid thing always acting up.”

John sits on the edge of your bed as you take the laptop back from him.

“Not a problem. It was a quick fix.” He offers a small smile, rubbing the back of his head.

He takes a glance at you, noticing the pajamas you had put on.

"...Is that my sweatshirt?"

You blush a bit sheepishly, looking down at the oversized, grey 2XL Special Air Service hoodie you’re wearing. "Um..."

Another small chuckle escapes his lips. He shakes his head a bit, trying to contain his amusement.

“S’what I thought. You look... comfy." He reaches his hand out towards your leg, running his hand lightly over your bare legs, exposed by the shorts you were wearing.

Without realizing what he's doing, he has his hand on your thigh, and he gives it a light squeeze.

Eventually his hand travels higher to rest on your sex over your pajama shorts.

Usually, you'd tell him off. Monologue about how this isn't how things work because it complicated things and you both need to set boundaries.

But tonight you don't.

Maybe it's because you had two heavy-handed pours of your favorite wine with dinner. Maybe it was seeing him with your kids again. Maybe it had just been too long since you'd felt anything other than a cheap bullet vibrator.

So you let him slip his hand down your panties.

But it's a bit jarring to feel his wedding band still on his finger.

You look down at his hand for a beat when you feel it.

You look back up and place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in and crashing your lips together.

John wastes no time in laying you back on your bed and tugging your shorts and panties off, tossing them somewhere behind him.

His lips are on your neck, his hands spreading your soft thighs apart. You can smell the musky scent of himself on him, mixed with that familiar cologne of his, and you breathe a sigh.

“Take this off f’r me.” He mumbles against your skin, sliding your his hoodie up your body.

Your body aches for this to continue, and John doesn't plan to disappoint, but he takes a moment to admire what's sprawled out in front of him. He lets out a satisfied smirk as he pulls you closer by your thighs. He's undone his belt and shrugged out of his jeans in no time.

You pull his shirt off over his head before you close your eyes and tilt your head to give him easier access to kiss your neck.

His scruffy beard tickles your neck, his calloused hands gripping your thigh and rubbing your slick, dripping pussy.

“So needy.” John observed as your back arched and your body squirmed at his touch. "Poor thing... No one's been keepin’ you satisfied, hm?”

You shake your head a bit. You hate that he’s right. You hate that he can tell. That he knows you too well.

But he’s right; no random Tinder hookup and no blind date that your friends have set you up with could ever compare to your ex husband.

“Should’a told me...” He murmurs as he leans lower, positioning his head in between your thighs, pressing desperate kisses to your aching clit.

He’s got you figured out completely. He’s always been good at that.

A smile forms as his hands move to grip your thighs. He lets out a quiet groan as your legs instinctively clamp around his head. The look of his veiny hands gripping your plushy thighs with that damn wedding band still around his finger is doing things to you.

His tongue slowly plays in circular motions, teasing you, loving the game. He takes his time, enjoying himself, as you continue to squeeze your thighs against his head. Hell, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could eat your pussy this one last time.

You try not to, but you let out a desperate moan of pleasure. He knew exactly what you like, exactly where to lick, exactly where to kiss, exactly where to nibble.

Damn him.

“You sound s’pretty, lovie. S’pretty f’r me.” He pants, his praise ending with a whimper.

Your eyes roll back. Fuck, he has you. He knows he has you. Your moans and whimpers are uncontrollable as he picks up the pace, all but slamming his thick cock into your pretty little hole.

You’re his, and he knows it, and in the moment, it’s true. Just him. Just you. The rest doesn’t matter right now.

John pulls out for just a moment while he swiftly flips you over, roughly gripping your hips and pulling your backside into him. He’s got the angle just right now, and your breath catches in your throat, followed by a needy whimper.

“Mine… All mine… Isn’t that right?” He whispers, more of a command than a question.

Your face is pressed against the mattress as John’s grip on your hips tighten. This angle, this position, John is so familiar with it. He knows what it does to you. He knows the way it makes you respond.

John lets out a loud groan as your whimpers and moans get more needy, desperate. He knows that you’re about to come.

He finishes right and there, along with you.

You gasp a bit, surprised by the synchronization. Should you really be surprised, though? Only he would know your body like that. You’re his. He’s yours.

John slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, lying on the bed and pulling you into his chest. His hand grabs your thigh, draping your leg around his waist in an attempt to hold you closer.

He lets out a few deep breaths, letting the adrenaline and endorphins just fade away. Neither of you wants to move right now, both just content being in each other’s arms. Both content feeling the heat of each other’s bodies, just listening to each other breathing.

“Better than I remembered it.” John murmurs, his voice laced with a smirk.

You catch John’s left hand after he reached up to push your sweaty hair from your forehead. You hold it in yours, playing a bit with the wedding band.

**IM LITERALLY SO BAD AT ENDING THINGS LOL. I WILL DEF BE CONTINUING THO IF YALL WANT 🥺

#call of duty #captain john price #john price #captain price #captain john price x reader #price x reader #smut #cod smut #captain price smut #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x fem!reader #cod headcanons #price headcanons #he thought u were insane when you wanted to have babies w him after barely knowing him for .5 seconds but that’s his type tbh #task force 141 #141 x reader #141 headcanons #ghost cod #ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #he’s trying to baby trap u

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (28)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of masturbation, public dirty talk, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Even though he had expected nothing else, his wife's reaction completely devastated him anyway − her words cut through him like daggers, showing him his own face in the light of the truth.

What should I do now?

Divorce you?

Not speak to you for eight years?

He didn't know what he should answer.

The realisation that he was constantly searching for fault in her because he felt guilty himself, that he was accusing her of betrayal because he had betrayed her himself, caused him to no longer know who he was anymore. He felt so lost and heartbroken that he had simply burst out crying in front of her like a child scolded by a parent.

He just wanted her to forgive him.

When she told him what Alys had seen in her dream and informed him of her conditions, even though he was dying at the thought of spending even one more day in this fortress, he sat down at her oak desk the next morning to write a letter to his brother-king.

My King, our half-sister has agreed to our terms, however, she makes her own demands. I have decided, in order to alleviate the situation, to travel with my wife to Dragonstone, where we are currently staying. We want to try to convince them to change their minds − one order from you is enough for me to return to King's Landing. Your loyal brother

His niece was furious with him − he had never seen her like this before and preferred not to address her at all when she spoke to him knowing that he would only make matters worse. He hoped that his conciliatory attitude and the fact that he had fulfilled her wish would make her calm down.

The thought that he wasn't her prisoner didn't comfort him, because he felt like one anyway.

Wherever he went he might encounter someone he didn't feel like looking at, so he preferred to stay in her chamber and bear it somehow.

As soon as she had left her quarters he rose from his chair and began to walk around her room, looking at the various objects on the shelves and bookcases − he looked through the books she was reading, finding with satisfaction that most of them were also in his possession in King's Landing.

He spotted her embroideries in one of the drawers, including those he remembered well from his childhood, and smiled involuntarily at the thought, wondering if she had kept them for the sake of memories.

He shuddered as the door to the chamber opened suddenly and he slid the drawer back in, turning with a rapidly beating heart − Daemon stood with his hands folded behind him, sighing heavily.

"− come, nephew − we must discuss many important matters −" He said with a kind of boredom, as if what he was speaking of was a duty he had no desire to perform at all.

"− I will not go anywhere with you, uncle − I am quite comfortable here −" He said lowly, looking away, frustrated.

Why did he always feel like a little child in his presence?

Daemon chuckled at his question.

"− it wasn't a request − come, let's have a walk −" He encouraged him in a ferocious, mocking tone from which he felt rage and a clench in his stomach.

He knew he couldn't refuse.

Daemon led him out of the fortress through one of the side entrances − he checked a few times before the sound of the sea surrounded them that the dagger he always carried with him was strapped to his belt.

They stepped out onto a gigantic white beach seeming to stretch on endlessly to him, with only the water to their left and high rising rocks and mountains to their right.

They were completely alone.

His uncle finally stopped and turned to him, looking at him for a moment without a word.

"− why did you suggest you spend the night in Dragonstone? −"

He licked his lips, feeling his heart stop at his question.

"− that was her wish −"

"− don't fucking lie to me or I will pierce your skull with my sword −"

He looked at him in disbelief, his jaw clenched so tight he felt like it was going to burst, his fingers involuntarily tightening into fists.

Silence fell again, the sound of the waves around them, their hair and tunics blowing in the wind.

It seemed to him that his uncle's gaze was piercing him to the core.

"− Larys Strong had his own plans for you − I couldn't let that happen −" He muttered at last.

"− does she know about this? −" He asked coldly.

He swallowed hard at the thought that he was referring to his wife.

"− yes −"

"− did you tell her before or after we came here? −"

He lowered his gaze already knowing what he was leading up to, he felt like his whole body was quivering.

"− after −"

Daemon snorted in annoyance, shaking his head as he looked out at the sea stretching before them.

"− you fucking cunt − I was supposed to personally deal with his rats overdue in the Eyrie, but you ruined my plan − though surely that's good for you −" He confessed looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

He felt a powerful, cold shiver run along his back at the thought that he knew everything.

He knew that they were about to be murdered.

And Rheanyra?

Seeing that he couldn't force out the question that was pressing on his lips his uncle laughed out loud.

"− the rider of the world's greatest dragon since Balerion's passing is unable to get a word out − shame has taken away your speech? − where is your pride that you always boasted so much? −" He continued, provoking him to explode, his heart pounding like mad.

What should he do?

How should he behave?

"− you are exactly as I assumed − you are still a boy who has lost an eye and who is waiting for his betrothed to come to comfort him − you are like a stone, unable to move on − my daughter has sacrificed everything for you, and you stand before me like some fool −"

"− what do you want from me, uncle? −"

"− no − what do YOU want − are you able to name it in your head, or are you like a child in a fog without your mother? −" He asked in a raised voice, frustrated, making him feel a hot wave of humiliation flowing through his body.

"− I want her to be safe −"

"− what happened in King's Landing? −"

"− I −"

"− fucking speak − and you'd better say the truth −"

"− your spies in the Red Keep didn't report it to you? −" He hissed, his uncle taking a step towards him, looking him straight in the eye.

"− you're trying my patience −"

He pressed his lips together feeling his heart rise to his throat, cold sweat running down his back.

"− my mother gave her moon tea without my knowledge − she wanted to be able to pact with you and give her to Lord Arryn's son −" He said dispassionately feeling, however, that his voice trembled. Daemon looked at him wordlessly.

"− and what have you done to punish those who wronged my daughter, and your wife? −"

He looked at him feeling his whole body freeze.

"− what would you have done to her if she had been the one to fail your trust? − if she tried to fight for her freedom, if she stood up to you and threatened your mother? −" He asked, stabbing his words into him like daggers .

He didn't know the answers to these questions.

He never wanted to ask himself them.

"− I did everything I could − she is my mother − you would expect the same from your daughter yourself −"

"− and yet she was the one who came to beg her own mother to surrender her claim to the crown when yours was encouraging your brother to steal the throne that never belonged to him − gods, Viserys has taught you nothing, has he? − you see nothing but your mother's skirt to which you have always been clung −" He muttered with some kind of disgust from which he felt a cold, unpleasant shiver and discomfort in his stomach.

"− I regret − I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow − I did not, though it was my duty −"

He looked at him in disbelief, feeling with horror the burning under his eyelids. He laughed and shook his head, wishing he could somehow control what was happening to him − he hid his hands behind his back feeling how much they were trembling.

"− are you remorseful, uncle? − do you see that you yourself also contributed to the division of our family into two separate parts? −" He asked with mockery and regret in his voice feeling that he was weak.

What had happened in the last few days had completely destroyed him.

"− I want to hear the truth and I will ask for the last time − what do you want? −" His uncle asked with emphasis on the last sentence.

He shuddered, realising that deep down he knew what the answer was.

He always knew.

"− I wish it was all over − I wish I could take her to Essos, as I promised her − I am tired, uncle − I have been tired all my life − I only rest when she is by my side −"

Daemon looked at him for a long moment and let out a loud breath, looking out to sea. They stood like that, not speaking to each other.

"− is there anything else you have hidden from her? −" He asked coldly, and he felt a squeeze in his throat at the memory of the Witch of Harrenhal's words.

You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most.

You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again.

You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.

He raised his eyes to his uncle and met his gaze, proud and distrustful, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"− I −"

"− speak −"

"− there is − there is a woman in Harrenhal, called by some a witch − she came to me last morning and −"

"− did you take her to your bed? −"

His voice stuck in his throat at his question, so he shook his head quickly, horrified.

"− no, but she said − she prophesied to me that this would happen − that − that I would put my child inside her −" He muttered, feeling with what difficulty those words left his mouth. Daemon raised his eyebrows in disbelief and rolled his eyes.

"− and? − if she said so, now there's nothing left for you to do but put your cock inside her? − don't make me laugh −" He sneered, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"− she can predict the future − I −"

"− are you listening to me, or have you not only gone blind but deaf? − if she told you that you would run away with her to Essos and beget twenty children with her would you believe her too? − she told you exactly what she wanted to happen − she hopes to still use you in the future by doing so, and you reflecting on her words are doing exactly what she wants − I don't know any man who would put his cock into a woman by accident or by fate − pull yourself together −" He said impatiently, causing a warm wave of embarrassment to surge through him.

He thought he really was a fool.

How could he have believed her with such ease?

Though he didn't want to admit it to himself, his words brought him relief.

"− do you have anything else to convey to me? − this is your last chance −" He asked coldly, and he shook his head.

"− very well − I'm glad we've got it behind us − you may leave −" He said dryly; he pressed his lips together at his words and simply walked away, swallowing his dignity and pride.

As he stepped into his wife's chamber he noticed her seated figure out of the corner of his eye, but he did not say a word to her − he felt humiliated and tired and did not feel like making conversation.

He also recognised that she certainly still hadn't forgiven him, so they might as well keep quiet.

He therefore sat down with one of her books by the fire, trying to concentrate on what he saw before him and not on his uncle's words.

I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow.

Though some part of him did not want to admit it, he knew that subconsciously he had been waiting for those words, for any praise or appreciation from him, the Rouge Prince himself, the greatest warrior and dragon rider he had seen in his lifetime.

So why did he feel so bad about what he had said to him?

You are still a boy who has lost an eye and who is waiting for his betrothed to come to comfort him.

My daughter has sacrificed everything for you, and you stand before me like some fool.

He swallowed hard, knowing that there was partly truth in his words.

For some reason though he wanted to, he couldn't completely free himself from the past and move on.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −"

He lifted his gaze to her from his book thinking he had overheard himself. He felt a wave of anger and disbelief surge through his body when he noticed in her gaze that she wasn't mocking him.

She meant it.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, getting up from his seat, throwing his book on the table and leaving immediately thinking he was going to kill this fucking bastard with his own hands.

When he finally walked into the right chamber he breathed heavily and grinned, feeling as if all the frustration, the things that had been happening to him after his conversation with his wife and uncle were going to find release at this very moment.

Jace stood up from his chair, pale at the sight of him, clearly knowing exactly what awaited him.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −" He murmured teasingly, feeling the presence of his niece beside him, the scent of vanilla filling his lungs again.

"− Aemond −"

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered, cocking his head to the side, resting his weight on his right leg, watching curiously as his nephew turned all red with embarrassment.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela growled, his smile widening even more at the sight of her, her lips tightening into a thin line.

He thought he would love to hit her in the face again before he remembered that she was a woman.

What a pity.

His wife appeared suddenly in front of him, looking at him warningly.

"− we are leaving −"

He felt like laughing at her words.

Her brothers were getting away with far too many things.

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −" He said sweetly, looking his nephew straight in the eye thinking with amusement that this time would be different.

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He muttered in a voice filled with challenge and poison seeing that Baela looked at her betrothed in disbelief.

Always pretending to be so righteous, so wronged.

He was nothing more than a pathetic brat who was once again reaching for what didn't belong to him.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela thundered, clearly wanting Jace to stop being a scared cunt, which unfortunately he was unable to do.

He could feel his own heart pounding fast, his hands clenched into fists, his breathing quick and deep.

He was ready to attack him, he was ready to rip him to shreds.

Some part of him wanted to do it.

A fucking would-be King.

You'll never sit on the throne − he thought with satisfaction − and in my wife's eyes you were never a man she could desire.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He mumbled in horror as he looked at his niece with pleading eyes.

Did he really think that he would let him hide behind her skirt like a coward?

That he would allow him to escape the consequences of his foolishness again?

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" He hissed grabbing her cheeks, heard her draw in a loud breath, shocked, as his lips pressed against hers in a hot, aggressive kiss − she moaned quietly as his slick tongue forced its way deep into her throat with his low sigh of delight.

He pulled away and met her simultaneously terrified, enraged and thirsty gaze − she only mewled when he turned her with a confident tug with her back against him and pressed her figure against his chest, gripping her neck with one hand, the other sliding down her lower abdomen.

He involuntarily licked his lower lip when he felt her fingers tighten on his wrist trying to stop him from doing what he wanted to do, her mouth parted in disbelief.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out, not really understanding himself what he was actually doing, focusing more on her than on them as he dug his fingertips into her womanhood lying beneath the material of her gown.

Her head was tilted back, her thighs clenched, her lips struggling to hold back the moan from which his erection slapped impatiently against her buttocks in his breeches.

He thought he will fuck her with his fingers in front of his eyes.

"− u-uncle − stop −"

In fact, he had to stop when Daemon walked into the chamber − the ashamed, horrified expression on Jace's face who couldn't even look at them and the accusing look his betrothed turned towards him was reward enough for him.

He wanted to watch his world, everything he desired burn and fall apart in his hands.

He wanted him to know what it felt like.

He knew his wife enough to know that her rage was mixed halfway with the desire and tension he himself felt. He wanted to respect her request not to take her and break it at the same time, feeling that he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, so he did something that stopped halfway between both, coming with a sigh of relief on the material of her nightgown when he heard her moans of sweet fulfilment.

He wanted nothing more after this than to lock her in his arms and fall asleep.

"− let me embrace you −" He muttered.

"− no −" Her frustrated, trembling voice answered him.

He huffed loudly, heartbroken, at the same time understanding her and longing to take refuge again in the warmth that the closeness of her body gave him. In a gesture of desperation, he simply pressed his face against her neck, taking in her scent.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

He heard her sigh heavily, annoyed, but said nothing more. When he finally felt she had fallen asleep, his hand slowly touched her waist and slid to other side, taking its place on her warm lower abdomen.

"− no −" He heard her quiet, unclear mumble, her body stirring in his embrace.

"− shhh − let me −" He whispered in her ear, his lips placing a soft, warm kiss on her cheek.

"− mhm −" She muttered, twisting towards him immersed in a deep sleep − he sighed heavily as her body involuntarily clung to his, her face sinking into the hollow of his neck.

He swallowed hard, feeling the squeeze in his heart and the tears under his eyelids that, one by one, began to run down his cheeks as his hands wove through her hair and the material of her nightgown at her back, pressing her close to his body.

He thought that for some reason during the nights he spent with her he was most vulnerable and weak, her presence, the warmth of her flesh, her closeness made him feel as if something was melting inside him, not allowing him to pretend that Daemon's words had not hurt him.

Despite repeating to himself that his uncle's words meant nothing to him, as a child he had looked up to him, dreaming of being like him − fearless, ironic, intelligent, confident, proud of his family and his heritage.

I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow.

He pressed his lips together at that thought, at his words, which cut into his heart like a sword, because although he had tried to find his pattern of masculinity in his father, in his older brother, in his grandfather, in Ser Criston, it was his uncle that his gaze had always followed, it was his uncle's reaction that he looked at when he and his father watched them duel.

He never heard a single warm word from his lips.

The fact that he was his mother's son had crossed him out in his eyes, and he had no intention of apologising for anything.

So what was he to do with his words?

That he did not know − nor did he know what purpose the conversation had served or why he had told him about the Witch of Harrenhal. He thought with shame that guilt and fear had crushed him so much that he had to get it off his chest, and he had chosen the worst person to do so.

What if he uses this against him?

Poison his daughter's thoughts with words that her husband feared that he would betray her in the future, beget a bastard child with another woman?

He felt a cold shudder run through his body at the thought, but for some reason he had a feeling that this would not happen.

She told you exactly what she wanted to happen.

She hopes to still use you in the future by doing so, and you reflecting on her words are doing exactly what she wants.

He was right.

This woman, whoever she was, was playing with him and his wife.

He thought she was hoping to frighten them both and lead them to lose trust in each other.

That this was perhaps also part of Larys' plan.

He had no intention of killing his wife.

He wanted her to do it herself.

That thought, that realisation flashed through his body like a flame, his fingers clamped down on her flesh as he swallowed hard, feeling some kind of indescribable relief, finding meaning in it at last.

They knew that if his wife disappeared, he would join the war.

He sighed quietly, thinking with surprising calmness in his soul, stroking his wife's soft, dark curls with his fingers, that he would cut off the heads of all the vipers plotting against her, one by one.

He intended to personally inform his brother what their grandfather and Lord Strong were planning to do behind his back.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond tagaryen smut #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fic #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell angst #aemond fandom #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen angst #canon aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x female #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x wife #aemond x niece #aemond x strong niece #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #hotd smut #hotd angst

[johnslittlespoon]

thinking unholy thoughts of gale making john come untouched with only his fingers in the biker au… maybe john didn’t even know it was possible so when gale keeps going he gets confused and is like “i’m good im ready” but gale keeps going 😅

au post | ohhh man okay. yeah feeling super extremely sane and normal about this, never been better! thanks! ~2k words of nsfw filth below the cut sighhhh

okay, prefaced with a little more world building in my last post since we're really diving into this au now LOL. ofc things might change when i actually write it, but this is how i'm feeling things will go rn!

re: 'maybe john didn't even know it was possible'– like i said in the drabble before this, he's fooled around a little with curt, but nothing more than getting a bit handsy. he's had a girlfriend for around a year, so they were probably serious enough to get up to things too, but straight sex is very different from gay sex obviously.

the internet exists, and during the time john is pining(thirsting) over gale, he probably does his fair share of googling 'blond man with tattoos fucks brunet man', but really he's kinda intimidated by a lot of stuff, so he doesn't delve too deep into that world. when he and gale start seeing each other and john realizes they're gonna move past making out eventually (because gale is almost such a gentleman sometimes that john wants to bash his head in in his impatience), he probably psychs himself out a bit and gets into his own head and is like fuck.

gale's had years to gain experience and what if he's not good enough or does something stupid or or or, on and on. obviously these worries are completely unfounded because gale adores him and would never pressure him and doesn't expect them to just jump right into things; half of the reason he probably drags things out is because he wants to be absolutely certain things are on john's terms, and that john's not just being horny and impulsive.

john probably ends up trying to do some research so he can yk. pick up some tips, because he's got all the enthusiasm he needs when he thinks about getting to drop to his knees for gale, but he has no idea what he's doing and he doesn't realize everyone learns as they go because he's dumb (/fond) and overthinks everything. (whatever he ends up learning doesn't matter anyway, because all coherent thought leaves his head when they do start doing stuff together and gale is so encouraging and easygoing that he feels ridiculous for ever worrying.)

all that is to say that yeah, he's got like no firsthand experience when it comes to anything past the basics or anything he hasn't been doing by himself. everything is fresh and exciting and as much as he loves just hanging around gale, he's also always needy and horny (gets told he's "insatiable" quite a few times by gale) so they get up to a lot of shit and it's unfair how good gale is in bed and how he knows exactly which buttons to press to get john worked up.

at the time this incident happens, gale's already fingered john a few times, but it's always just as a build up/foreplay, usually followed or joined with gale's other hand or lips around john's cock. they haven't had sex yet, and it feels really nice when gale does this, but john always just kinda sees it as foreplay and it doesn't last for long.

so when gale's got john laid in his bed one sunny afternoon and they're making out and john starts getting whiny and squirmy from the stimulation of his fingers in him, and gale doesn't switch things up like he usually does, john's heart leaps because in his mind, surely gale's getting him ready for something else.

but he's frustrated because it feels like gale's purposefully avoiding hitting right where he needs him to, pants out gale's name against his lips, grasping the back of gale's shirt. starts rocking his hips down against his fingers, seeking it out, and gale rumbles out a "needy thing" before pressing a kiss to his cheek and crawling down the length of his body, settling himself between john's legs.

john props himself up on his elbows to watch, cheeks flushed and eyelids heavy, digging his fingers into the blanket instead. he lets out a little whine at the slow drag of gale's fingers, and that finally makes him cave, crooking his fingers just right, and john's lips part at the way the sudden surge of pleasure zings up his spine.

lets his elbows slide out from underneath himself, dropping back down into the pillow, satisfied he's finally getting what he's been waiting for since gale worked him open ten minutes ago. he waits for stimulation on his cock to join the fingers in him as usual, assuming that's why gale moved to lay there, but gale just keeps up the slow in and out and consistent brushes against his prostate and its embarrassing how much he's leaking all over his own stomach.

but then he has the thought that maybe gale's actually properly prepping him and his cock twitches and his breath catches and he props himself up again to find gale already watching him. he waits expectantly, too shy to ask, and gale doesn't offer him any confirmation, just pressing gentle kisses to his thighs and smiling when john's hips start to roll down against his fingers again.

john thinks that maybe gale's waiting for him to say he's ready, since he does often make him ask for what he wants, so even as his cheeks go hot, he gets out a breathy "gale, i'm– that's good, 'm ready."

but gale only chuckles quietly, nipping at his thigh to feel it twitch away, watching john in a way that makes him feel somehow even more exposed than he already is, and now he's even more confused and he feels like he's melting into the bed and gale's putting a little more pressure into each crook of his fingers and the sounds he's making are so whiny and high pitched that he wants to cover his own ears out of embarrassment.

"does it feel good, doll?" gale purrs, dragging john's eyes back to him, and he nods, twisting his hands in the blankets harder. it does feel good, enough so that heat is pooling in his stomach in a way that's both familiar and foreign, the sensation all different with no friction against his dick.

gale's working his hand a little faster and john's face burns at the realization that he's being finger–fucked like a girl and he drops back into the pillows, arms going too weak to hold himself up. his thighs are starting to tremble and gale murmurs that he's "making such a mess on yourself, baby, look at you" and john immediately reaches down to take his dick in his hand, but gale catches his wrist with his free hand, slowing his movements down, much to john's dismay.

"no hands today, john," he says gently, letting go of his wrist. "i want you to keep them at your side for me, can you do that?"

and john lets out a near hysterical noise but he obliges, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket again, head spinning at being given an instruction, biting down on the inside of his cheek when gale speeds his fingers up again with a "good job, baby."

the heat builds and builds as gale's fingers hit right where they need to each time, and it feels like he's just hanging on the edge of an orgasm for so long, unable to tip over that edge, eyes blurring over from how overwhelming the drawn out sweet–hot pleasure is. he's mindlessly rocking his hips down and panting out little "ah ah ah"s with each thrust of gale's fingers and he's so close to lifting his hand from his side when a sob of frustration slips out.

but gale presses his lips to his thigh again, sucking at the sensitive skin there, pulls back to murmur a stream of "c'mon sweet thing, come on my fingers, show me how good you feel, you can do it" and john chokes out a cry as he clenches around his fingers and comes so hard he nearly blacks out, back arching and hips stuttering up like he can get friction that way.

gale's hand chases his jerking movements, continuing to fuck him on his fingers as john paints his own stomach, cock pulsing, feeling like he's just going to keep coming and coming, mewling desperately and shaking like a leaf and seeing stars behind his closed eyelids.

he closes his thighs against gale's sides when it starts to be too much, hands shaking when reaches down to tiredly push at him, hips stuttering away from the stimulation, hiccupping as he tries to catch his breath. he can feel hot tears soaking into the hair at his temples, lips parted in surprise, shuddering when gale lets his movements slow down until his fingers go still.

john whines when he pulls them out, despite his efforts to squirm away from them moments before, and gale presses a kiss to his hip before he crawls back up his body, cupping john's face with the hand not covered in lube, and john's eyes flutter open, bleary when they focus in on the expression of awe on gale's face.

"fuck, john," gale sounds almost as breathless as him. "you're crying, baby. was that okay?" john nods shakily, tilting his chin up for a kiss, and gale leans down without missing a beat, kissing him so deep it feels like he wants to devour him. mumbles "you have no idea what you do to me" against john's lips, brushing his fingers over the tear streaks on either side of his face, peppering his red cheeks with light kisses before pulling back again.

"felt good?" he murmurs, and john chokes out a laugh at the understatement, draping his wrist over his forehead. "really good," he breathes out, flushing when he opens his mouth again, "didn't know that was, um. a thing." and gale half laughs, half groans at the admission, rolling his hips down, and john sucks in a sharp breath at the drag of his pants, cock twitching even after all that.

gale doesn't mind; he's more than happy to watch his pretty boy fall apart on his fingers, mouth, cock, as many times as john lets him.

#a boioioing sound effect played when i read this ask #i kept going oh my god oh my GOD under my breath #felt like a fly rubbing my hands together maniacally #this is just filth but are we surprised. probably not #NOT PROOFREAD YET ALRIGHT i need a Snack #leaving bikeriders au #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon spicy #buckbucky

[vergess]

A work friend of mine's daughter has recently developed (?) schizophrenia. He seems to like my advice in general, and in particular thinks I gave him helpful advice about handling traumatic experiences he's had, and so talks to me about this a lot. I've tried to give advice along the lines of prioritizing her comfort/well-being/calmness over her "connection to reality" (his words), like not picking arguments over things she says in pursuit of correcting her, similar to taking care of someone with dementia.

Do you have any points I can focus on or resources I can look up to support him and by extension his daughter better? I'm not very familiar with the subject but do know that in looking this up I'm wading through a lot of stuff that's not very supported or with the schizophrenic person's well being and agency in mind.

You're exactly right about the comparison to dementia. Although not nearly as severe an illness, schizophrenia is one of those "redirect not reinforce" conditions.

So, one of the big things you can suggest, especially while the person is in the early period of onset (which can happen over the course of a year at any age, but usually between 20 and 30), is try to help them make plans for the future. Which sounds big and scary, but it mostly consists of honestly going through with them to make lists of the things they enjoy, the things that stress them out, etc. Because there is going to come a time, and it's sooner than anyone wants, where remembering what she finds relaxing will become impossible on her own (at least, during periods of high stress; she may always be able to self regulate in normal conditions).

Schizophrenia often makes people feel deeply afraid and out of control of their own thoughts, which is really scary!!

But your friend's daughter is likely still able to remember what things she enjoyed before the onset of her illness. Whenever she gets too wound up in a fearful delusion, rather than trying to combat the delusion, I suggest redirecting her to one of the things she enjoys, whatever that may be. A hobby, a movie, etc.

It's important that the idea for the redirection initially come from the schizophrenic person themself. This way, you can honestly say, "hey, remember when you said you like X, why don't we try some X together," and it be something reaffirming to the person's sense of control rather than fighting it.

Of course, if the delusion isn't fearful/scary/stressful, the best thing to do is to accept that it is her genuine reality right now, and just work around that belief. No need to start a fight and make it stressful.

Another thing is, and this is MUCH more controversial in the west but I'll go ahead and say it. Another thing is, if the daughter's voices are friendly or kind, to support her engaging with them (if she so chooses). This way if/when her voices become mean she can choose to "disengage" with them as a conscious change. In practical terms, this means if his daughter is ever having conversations with her voices that seem to be in good spirits, to treat that more like she is talking on the phone with someone you don't know, than to treat it as a scary hallucination.

Then, if the voices ever get mean, she can "give them the silent treatment" to help establish a sense of control over them and help her feel like she doesn't have to listen to them.

In a way, it can be good to conceptualize her voices as "influential strangers" and just encourage her to listen to good influences and ignore bad ones.

Finally, depending on where the daughter lives and her support needs, it might be good to get her registered with the healthcare service in your area sooner than later. In the US, a young person with schizophrenia automatically qualifies for medicaid and can also qualify for disability. Both will need to be applied for, and the application process is a byzantine mess.

Especially regarding disability, it is best to hire a lawyer to make your application (they will be paid out of your benefits not your pocket).

As such, if your coworker's daughter is unlikely to be able to live entirely on her own, including job, hygiene, travel, etc it's a good idea to get there registrations started ASAP. That way if the coworker ever becomes sick or when he eventually dies, etc the daughter can be supported.

If the daughter has low support needs and is likely to be able to live on her own (which can and does happen sometimes!! Even with schizophrenia), one of the biggest challenges she's going to face in the long term is going to the doctor.

Not only are doctors deeply, deeply scary to the mentally ill in the west (for good reason!), which makes doctors a prime target for delusions of fear and abuse. But also delusional thinking can interfere with a person's ability to identify their own body sensations.

EG, it is very common for schizophrenics to "be really angry and not know why" and it turns out it's because they have a UTI but couldn't feel it due to delusions. In fact, it's so common that one of the first things we do at work when a client is very upset like that, is ask them if they have been peeing more often (the answer is usually 'yes').

A huge part of the reason people with schizophrenia die young is the inability to tell when they are sick, followed by feeling unsafe going to the doctor.

Ultimately, the biggest thing to remember is that no matter how stressed or scared you are as a carer, the person with the illness is just as of more stressed. They aren't fighting you, they're fighting terror. Remembering that can make the intense demands of caring for someone with higher support needs less draining.

The second biggest thing is to remember to take time for yourself, because if you burn out as a carer, then you've left your kid without support for potentially months or years, and that's pretty bad compared to having them go to a fun adult program like a summer camp every day for a month while you recover.

Finally: there are more programs for schizophrenia support than you think. Even in my rural bumfuck town of 3000, we have two (2) different programs, including a year round day program that operates 5 days a week and takes walk ins.

Your coworker does not have to take care of his daughter alone. Support exists.

#Asks #Answered asks #arctangential

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero

chapter 3: The one when you met

masterlist

taglist

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Meeting another person after 2 years of loneliness was not supposed to be like this.

tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol, weapon

author's note: I don't know... I'm not satisfied with this chapter. I think I reread it and edited it too many times. From this chapter, what happens after days 730... will be in the present tense because, for example, in the next chapter we will return to day 64, of course it is described in the past tense, so it just seems logical to me. I'm not changing chapters 1 and 2, I hope you don't mind. I think I've been spending too much time on this story and I'm starting to think too much.

Thank you all for your positive feedback. You don't even know how much this means to me <3

The next chapter will be posted on May 11 or 12.

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Chapter 3: The one when you met

Day 730

Ghost

There are plenty of things in this damn city that he will never run out of. When Ghost was left almost alone, with Riley by his side of course. Already in the first days, the man noticed that there were things here that would stay with him for the rest of his life. Even when he's gone, many of these items will remain in his warehouses for years to come.

Ironically, what he needed the least, alcohol and clothes.

He was never a demanding person. He didn't expect much from life. He was a rather simple man. A roof over his head, a supply of food, a place to train and peace of mind. So when he realized that this city was only his, he was very happy and satisfied. Not that he hated people. It was just better when they were as far away from him as possible. Somewhere in the background, preferably far from his sight and hearing. For many years he felt irritated by the closeness of another person. Of course, there were a few people who managed to get under the lieutenant's shell and understand his moods, behavior and motivations. However, there were few of them. That's right, they were.

In the army, he worked with several people. For many years he had no one outside of work. No family. No other relatives or friends. So when the captain sent him to a well-deserved rest after another long and hard mission. Ghost couldn't find his place for the first few days. He was simply irritated by mundane, everyday things. Going to the bank, store, clinic or even the gym. Too many people. Everywhere. Constant conversations, gesticulations. Noise.

Too much.

So he was grateful for the development of technology. When he could finally sit in front of his computer in the comfort of his own home and get things done in the office or via an app on his phone. The less contact with other people, the better. That's what he thought.

Now that Riley is missing, the soldier wonders about the meaning of his life. If the world had in some way done him a favor by removing other people from his surroundings, why did he have to take away the one being that made him feel alive. That his life has any meaning.

He wasn't a monster. Of course not. It wasn't like he was hoping for some kind of annihilation of humanity, that he would be the sole survivor on earth and be able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He just wanted some peace, on his terms.

However, he felt no sadness or regret as he patrolled the empty streets or checked another empty building.

He had lost too many loved ones in the past to grieve over nameless strangers now.

He shouldn't drink. He knows it perfectly well. Two years. 730 days of sobriety. He had promised himself that big day, he had promised Riley, that he would never feel that burning liquid in his throat again. So that he won't become such a madman when alcohol starts circulating in his system again.

So that he does not become his own father. He couldn't even think of this person as someone close to him. Disgusting creature. Reflective sadists. Sperm donor and that's it. Which should never have existed. He buried that monster a long time ago. Just like Ghost buried his own self.

Apart from losing Riley, this was the man's greatest fear in his life. That by drinking alcohol and getting closer to people, he would show them who he really was. That he was just like his twisted psychopathic father.

And he didn't want to be like that, he couldn't. He preferred to hide behind the façade of a domineering, boorish lieutenant in a mask. Pushing others away from himself. The further, the better. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

He preferred to be alone.

He wore a mask almost all the time. He hid his face from the world. He never showed his true self. He hid his identity and the man he was behind a piece of cloth.

Now that it was just him and the dog, he didn't have to cover his face.... And although sometimes in the morning he was looking for a black mask on the nightstand out of habit, he got used to the pleasant feeling of air on the skin of his face. If necessary, he placed a few masks here and there. Just in case someone, somehow showed up in his town.

Now, standing in the pantry with his heart pounding, he unhesitatingly reaches to the back of one of the shelves where he hid the alcohol.

He purposely hid the bottles in the back of the cabinets behind other things so that every time he looks here, he won't notice the colorful bottles at all.

So that nothing would tempt him.

Pulling out a bottle of bourbon, he moved the cans of food and didn't hesitate. He feels that if he does not immediately drown his sadness in a glass of amber drink, he will not be able to bear the pain of another loss. Looking at the label, he smiles to himself. Pappy Van Winkle's Family Reserve 15 years 107 proof*. Searching the homes of these rich people had some benefits. Rich motherfuckers who didn't know what to do with their money bought everything expensive. The more zeros in a line, the better.

When he returns to the office, he doesn't even look at the surveillance system.

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Day 731

Ghost

He lost himself. He drank himself unconscious. It was long after sunrise, it is even after noon.

“Dammit”

Ghost mutters, slowly getting up from the chair he fell asleep in a few hours earlier.

He should have been looking for the dog since dawn. He shouldn't give up. He shouldn't lose hope. However, when he lost sight of the dog, something inside him broke. It reminded him too much of the previous two times he'd lost loved ones. He lost control again. Something thwarted his plan. He lost his stability. Monotony, life according to plan.

Barely walking, tripping over his feet and knocking several things off the dresser, he reaches the bathroom. He doesn't care about anything anymore. Everything is the same to him.

When rinsing her face with water, he does not look at her reflection in the mirror. He can't look into his own eyes. Again, he directs his steps to the pantry. To get another bottle. Ghost has already lost count, another bottle to forget.

It didn't matter. It's just that nothing makes sense anymore.

Wobbling on his feet, he returns to the small room, sits in the chair at the desk and takes a few sips straight from the bottle. Regret - he finally feels it. Another sip. Drown, drown. And he only hopes that alcohol will soothe this feeling, that it will help him fill the void he feels after Riley's disappearance.

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Day 732

Ghost

Another day of drinking. Once he touched his lips and felt a sharp substance with his tongue. And he fell into a trance again. It was hard to break out of it. Constant drinking. Vicious circle. Another bottle and another. Let it burn, sting, hurt. Just to feel something. Physically.

Finally, as if something was calling to him, he struggled to get up from the chair and dragged the body to the kitchen, he decided he had to do something. Anything other than just sitting here. With a lot of thinking, wondering, blaming. He's not a victim, he's not. He has to look for the dog. Keep going. He can't show weakness. Even before himself. He felt a little embarrassed. That he gave up again. Too quick and easy. He looks at the mess he probably left behind the night he drunkenly tried to make himself something to eat.

“I'll deal with it later,” he muttered, heading towards the dressing room. Trying to keep his balance, he stops in the hall, next to the small surveillance room, and freezes.

One screen was active. Detected movement.

"Fuck..." Ghost is angry with himself, pissed off. That he hadn't thought about sitting in front of the screens and looking at the city earlier. But now wasn't the time to blame himself or dwell on the situation. He must finally take action.

Looking at the screen, the soldier can't believe his eyes. He not only sees his beloved dog on the screen. Who slowly walks through one of the streets. In the live footage, he sees a figure walking.

Person.

Alive.

Without thinking, he quickly runs to his room to change and grab his gun. It's definitely an ambush. No one in their right mind would wander in the middle of the street in a strange city in the middle of the day. With a dog by my side.

Bait.

Surely the rest of the group was waiting somewhere outside the city or on the roofs of buildings. He has to do something, he has to get Riley back. Adrenaline stimulates his body, his thoughts flow in one direction. Bring Riley home. Punish those who had the nerve to steal his dog.

He had never driven under the influence of alcohol, but he had no choice. It would take him too long to walk downtown, and he couldn't let the intruders get any closer to his house. Or worse, they'll leave town with his dog.

Besides, the only danger in driving a car in such an environment was himself. And he doesn't care about his own health and life.

Before leaving, he checks the camera again, the figure slowly approaches the City Hall building.

"Easy target" Ghost smiled, plenty of space to capture. He loads his gun and runs out the door as fast as he can, his fingers firmly wrapped around the sniper rifle.

While driving through the city streets, he tries to focus on driving straight, but at the same time he is constantly looking around for a potential threat. It definitely has to be a larger group, Ghost is expecting several people. To his surprise, however, he doesn't notice anything unusual.

Finally he stops and he leaves the car a few blocks from the town hall and starts walking towards it. He hopes he's not late. That the intruder and his dog hadn't moved too far.

There were rather low buildings near the town hall, so a block earlier he turned left and headed to one of the skyscrapers, from where he would have a better view. A better place to attack. However, there is no time to enter it. He freezes in place because he hears Riley barking and then a human voice. A woman's voice.

“Shit…”

He muttered through his teeth. Of course he might have expected a group of travellers to send a woman or a child out to scout. To stir up sympathy only to have someone lose their guard.

He has to play it differently. He looks around the street and decides to enter the restaurant on the corner, remembering that there is a passage inside and he will have a perfect view of the street where the town hall was located. As he walks through the abandoned building, he mentally curses himself for drinking so much. Adrenaline helps him focus and stay upright, but he fears what will happen if he ends up having to aim his gun. When he reaches the storefront overlooking City Hall, he freezes.

Woman pets Riley tenderly and happily says something to him.

Dog seemed to sense his presence because it sits on its hind legs and looks towards the building where the soldier is.

Without thinking, Ghost raises his gun and takes aim.

He must get the dog back and show the strange travelers that they cannot take what is his. That he is in charge.

Fractions of seconds. Ghost pulls the trigger, shoots. The woman falls forward. Without even realizing the threat standing in the dark building in front of her. She falls, but not from the shot. There is not a single drop of blood. No screaming in pain.

It was Riley who pulled her over. He saved her. He protected her from the bullet.

Assessing the situation, Ghost quickly leaves the building and continues to aim his gun at the lying woman.

He didn't expect this development, of all the possible scenarios that went through his head. He did not foresee, despite years spent on the battlefield, reading thousands of training materials.

That the dog would be against him and protect some random stranger.

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Day 732

You

Everything happens so fast that it is impossible to rationally connect the facts: the shot, Riley pulling the leash and the fall. So much, in a split second.

But the only thing that is echoing in your head right now is whether or not Riley is okay.

So you don't notice the massive, tall and masked figure slowly walking towards you... The first thing you should do is check the condition of the dog. Riley. That's all that matters to you. You sit on your lap and look closely at the dog.

“Riley, oh boy, are you okay? Show yourself".

You check the dog, and after making sure that the dog is alright, you find no trace of blood or the slightest injury. Relieved, you slowly get back to your feet. Straightening up, you finally see with horror the figure standing in front of you who wanted to shoot you a moment ago. And now it's starting to dawn on you what just happened. What is really happening and that you are in great danger. You open your mouth and then close it, repeating this action several times, you want to say something. But what can you say at a time like this? No words come out of your throat.

“Stand where you're standing and let go of the leash”

The masked man growls lowly, slowly turning his gaze from you to the dog, slowly stepping closer to the two of you.

“Raise your hands above your head and don't move.”

You shiver with fear, chills running through your body. The sound of a man's low voice, any human voice other than yours after many months. Weird feeling. Irrational.

After a while, you finally recover and slowly raise your hands.

“Let go of damn leash!”

You look at the man with fear. It occurs to you that this must be the same man who left the letter on the tower. Anyone else could be masked and not call themselves Ghost. He was tall, well built. He was dressed in tactical gear, a bulletproof vest and... a mask. This was no ordinary balaclava. A skull was attached to the material. The front part, with a fragment of the upper jaw, eye sockets, and forehead. It must have been a human skull. You involuntarily shiver harder in fear, trying to take a deeper breath. This was not what meeting another human being was supposed to be like. This wasn't what you expected.

Ghost will raise his gun higher, still pointing it at you.

“Riley. Heel.., come here"

He calls to the dog, breaking the terrible, prolonged silence. The confused dog stands up and takes one step towards the soldier. But he doesn't go any further.

“This… this dog is mine”

The words finally fall out of you, you muster up your courage and whisper, keeping your eyes on the man

“Don't take him away from me. Not again.”

“Your dog? I think you've got something wrong"

Ghost growled, clearly annoyed. His arm muscles visibly tense, this entire exchange makes no sense to him. Waste of time.

"Y-yes, he's mine..."

You start to say, trying to control the emotions you're feeling. You slowly lower your hands.

“I can prove it. Just let me”

Regardless of the fact that the gun is constantly pointed at you, you have to prove it to him and keep the dog with you. No matter what, at any cost. You want to reach into your backpack and take out that old worn-out photo that you still carry with you to this day. One of the few souvenirs you have kept from your past life.

“Hands up, damn it, I'm not playing any games. Give the dog back and leave town."

Ghost shouts, you can see that he is becoming more and more irritated by your behavior.

“You can take everything you find and leave my city. Riley stays where he belongs - with me."

You shake your head negatively, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying not to cry

“No, the dog is mine.”

“Oh, damn it, I don't have all day for unnecessary discussions. Tell your people not to come back here again. Or at least have the courage to show up in person and not send a woman. Pathetic".

As he says this, he finally lowers the gun and pats his thigh, trying to get the dog's attention.

“Riley! Heel!”

Thinking little, or probably not thinking at all, you reached into your backpack and opened the zipper, looking for a photo.

“Dammit, kid, you don't understand what I'm telling you. Leave the dog and fuck off."

You don't care anymore, if you were to leave this city without your dog, you'd rather die here. Now, at this moment.

You take out the photo, which you have carefully secured to prevent any further damage. You raise your hand, holding the photo, and try to stop it from shaking. Despite your emotions, you calmly say to masked man

"Look, this is my dog. Mine. Look, Riley's missing a piece of his ear. You see? Dog in this photo doesn't have it either…”

The man hesitates for a moment, but decides to approach and take a closer look at the photo in your hand.

“That doesn't prove anything,” Ghost starts to say, but you interrupt him

"What do you mean? How many dogs of this breed have such a wound? How many have a black collar with an engraving on the back, with the exact name and phone number?"

As you say this, you state what is written on his collar

“You could take this off him and read it.”

"How do I know there's something written inside?"

There was silence. Another long, tiring one. You looked at each other without saying a word.

The man was taller than you and towered over you, his broad frame creating a shadow above you, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at you. As if he was trying to read what was going on in your head.

You feel a little dizzy. The whole situation was so strange, so surreal. This wasn't what my first conversation with another human being in two years was supposed to look like. This wasn't how the first meeting was supposed to go. At least it wasn't what you imagined.

There's something wrong with the man across from you. Weird, dark, terrifying. His attitude irritates you and something inside you finally breaks. You explode.

“Ghost, listen…”

You started, raising your voice slightly

“I don't know what your intentions are, why you're so defensive about this town and this dog. But I came here alone! ALONE! I haven't seen a living person in two fucking years. I don't understand what kind of travelers you're talking about and why you don't want to admit that this dog is mine. But... but I don't want to leave, not after finding Riley."

When you say this, you look at the dog that sat between you and the soldier. Riley lay down, as if he was also tired of all the strange interaction between two people he knew, through which he was confused.

Ghost remains silent, never taking his eyes off you, as if wondering what to do. Pros and cons.

Finally, the sound of the watch interrupts his persistent gaze, and the man sighs loudly, as if resigned, and says

“Let's just say… I believe you. Temporarily”

The man secures the gun and hangs it on his shoulder. Seeing this, an involuntary smile appears on your face.

“Come on, kid, it's late. We have to go” 

Ghost points to the sun, which is slowly starting to hide behind the buildings

"We'll finish this conversation somewhere else. Come on, both of you."

He waves his hand and points in the direction to go.

“Go ahead, I'll watch your back.”

The walk to the car doesn't take long, and you're glad that you won't have to walk another distance on your still scarred and aching legs.

"No way!"

You scream in shock when you see a large, dark pickup truck parked in the cul-de-sac.

“You have a working car! I couldn't find..."

Standing at the passenger door, a man interrupts you, stands next to the trunk and you open the hatch

“Riley, get in. You sit in the back too”

He points to the trunk of the pickup truck

"What? Are you kidding me?"

This man was behaving absurdly. You guess that years of loneliness made him unable to behave socially. He forgot what it was like to interact with another living person.

“Just. Get. In. And don't whine unless you want to walk to the tower. You know the way.”

The man looked at you without blinking.

“To the tower? Why are we going to the tower?”

You say in disbelief, letting go of another exchange of words, slowly climbing into the trunk and sitting down next to the dog. Ghost closes the trunk, making sure the dog is safe, and gets behind the wheel.

“We need to visit your companions. Since they're not in town, they're probably waiting for you there. You know my name, so you must have read the letter.”

As the car starts moving, you start to wonder if you did the right thing by getting into the trunk. Letting a stranger take you away, God knows where. There was something wrong with this man. He thought Riley was his and that you weren't coming to town on your own. Maybe he too, like you, has been living alone all these months. And he clearly couldn't cope with it. You hug the dog, just hoping that when you reach the tower, the man will finally believe you and let you stay.

Nevertheless, you did not want to be left on your own again. Only now did you feel how much you missed another living person. How much you needed to feel someone's presence. To know that you were not meant to live in isolation. You felt that the burden that had stuck with you through those many sleepless, weeping nights had finally fallen from your shoulders.

Maybe it was destiny.  This was your fate.

So, you accept it already.

Even if from now on, you will have to live with this strange, mysterious man in a mask.

taglist:

@leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles @vmaxis @poohkie90 @ghostlythots @nobodys-coffee @famouscattale @youdontneedtoknow1226 @pimpinsins @justguessfan @novasilvae @pausbirudanlumbalumba @ella2497

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod #ghost #call of duty fanfic #cod au #ghost x reader

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for using my cousin's weed habit to convince my dad to let me go live on my own, making him pay higher rent? Hi so this is kind of a silly idea i had but wanted to see if it would be assholeish. Also it is not the only way out or anything, just a bit of a thought experiment. So i (24x) moved from mexico to the usa for grad school (2 years). For this first year i've been living with my cousin A (23F), A's college friend B (23F) and A's childhood/family friend, C (25F). Now they're lovely and really fun roommates, but honestly not very good to live with on an everyday basis. B and A are really messy (leave everything lying around - dirty plates, clothes, trash, you name it), and none of them are very clean. Other than them occasionally wiping the kitchen counters, emptying the dishwasher, or taking out the trash, i've done all the cleaning so far on my own (kitchen, 2 bathrooms, living room, hallways). I've made my frustration pretty clear (and even gone on strike lol, but i can't deal w a dirty toilet for more then 2 weeks), but nothing changes!! At this point i'm really fed up, and want to move elsewhere next year, preferably to live on my own. The problem is that we live in san francisco, and rent is... well, it's pretty expensive. Sorry californians you really got it rough. However, i've looked into the university's accommodation for grad students and it could be an option. I would be paying about $250 per month more than right now, but i would save on utilities (about $40 per month). The thing is, my dad is the one whose been paying for my living expenses ever since i went back to school. We used to have a rocky relationship (he was really frustrated with me not meeting his expectations; coming out as a homo, being a leftist, doing some weed as a teen...) and i think he sees this as 'making it up to me'. I really appreciate the way he has been trying to fix out relationship, and i'm obviously extremely thankful for the economic support. So i feel really guilty asking for more than he is giving me. Here is where my plan comes in -- my dad haaates drugs, and my cousin A has a pretty intense weed habit. WIBTA to complain about it ('waa the house smells like weed, theyre blazing it all day every day') to my dad, in order to convince him that me moving to the grad dorms is a good idea? EXTRA INFO: Would my cousin get in trouble? - not really i think. Its legal, and her parents are aware of her indulgences (i dont think they're happy with the amount she smokes, but they're pretty chill). I worry that if i complain to my dad, he would tell his sister (A's mom) and make it a huge deal, but as I said A's parents are pretty tolerant, and know of her 'addiction' anyway. Don't i have any money of my own? - not anymore lol, at least not enough to pay californian rent. I'm getting a job over the summer, but with visa restrictions (half time) i doubt i would make enough to make a difference. Working during term time is not possible for me (personal limitations). Also the increase in price would not bleed my dad dry or anything. Can't i just sort it out w my roommates? - they've proven to be admirably immovable objects on the cleaning issue. I mean, i can tough ot out, but at this point it's also the spirit of the thing that is pissing me off so much, rather than the cleaning itself. Do they just dont care?? T-T Do i have to 'manipulate' my dad? - um idk. It's definitely the easy (perhaps cowardly) way, but that's why i want to see if its too assholeish. Thanks for reading! Lay it on me

#aita #am i the asshole

[simplydannie]

Inspired by and written for @gabykatttt! You know I had to add a little drama to it lol

Brozone is invited back to Mount Rageous as special guests for a singing competition where they will each mentor a young contestant.

Only thing they didn’t know: Floyd’s apprentice is someone they didn’t expect… and definitely don’t approve of.

●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

“Alright so let’s see here! My lovely Rageon is a boy named Taize, interesting!” John Dory flipped through the file,”Seems like the kid has spunk!” He handed his brothers their files. Brozone sat inside Rhonda on another trip to Mount Rageous, except this time, it was on better terms. Since the events that took place a year ago, Mount Rageous had invited Brozone back to take part of a singing competition and be the guest of honor. Each member would mentor a Rageon who’d be participating.

“Not to brag, but I think my boys got this.” He exclaimed.

Bruce open up his file, “Seems like me and Clay are assigned to two sisters.”

Clay took the file from his brother’s hand, “Glimmer and Gala. They have been doing singing competitions since they were four and winning almost every single one.”

“Sorry, JD, I think me and Clay have this one.” Bruce smirked.

Poppy popped in, a range of emotions whirling through her tiny body, “I can believe this! Brozone is officially back! Not to mention bringing in the next wave of musical talent! Even if they aren’t Troll of course.”

“But this is an opportunity! First Rageous, then the rest of the Troll kingdom!” JD announced, “Not to mention that Rageous officially extended the invitation to ALL Trolls and Bergens alike.”

“Whoa! So, this could really be big for us?” Clay responded glancing at all his brothers.

“Time for Brozone to get back on the map!” Bruce pumped, “Oh! Floyd? We didn’t even get to hear who you and Branches Rageon is.”

Floyd fiddled with the small file in his hands. He already knew who he had gotten to mentor, he wasn’t sure Branch would be okay with it though.

“You sure you don’t want to mentor your own kid, Branch?” Floyd asked again.

“Nope. I really would like to do this one with you Floyd. The two youngest, kicking big brother butt.” Branch crossed his arms and stared smuggly at his older brothers.

“Well good luck with that.” Clay stuck out his tongue earning a laugh from Branch. He turned back to look at Floyd.

“So? Who’s the kid?” Branch asked. Floyd let out a heavy sigh. “Oh come on Floyd. It can’t be that bad can it?” Branch took the file into his own hands.

“Alright let’s see here.” He skimmed the paperwork. “Our kiddo is……Veneer Vincent Montegue.” Branches eyes widened. He looked at Floyd who now had a sheepish smile on his face. “Veneer. As in Velvet and Veneer? You’re not serious Floyd!” The rest of the brothers, including Poppy, gathered around Branch.

“He’s not kidding.” Bruce mumbled.

“This has to be a mistake!” Clay exclaimed.

“Or a trap set up by them again. We can talk to the officials when we get there. We’ll…” JD began.

Floyd interrupted, “No! No, this…This isn’t a mistake. I’m….I requested it.

“WHAT!” Everyone echoed. Was Floyd crazy? Why on Earth would he want to mentor someone who nearly killed him?

“Floyd, the kid doesn’t have talent. That’s why he was using you!” Branch exclaimed.

Floyd scoffed at his remark, “Everyone has talent. It’s in there. And Veneer definitely has it. He just got the wrong inspiration.”

“No way! As the oldest I am not allowing this. His sister is obviously planning something. Veneer has the look of innocence but he’s not.” JD remarked.

“Velvets out of the picture… at least for now.” Floyd stated.

Poppy arched an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“When their sentence was up, she booked it. Sending tell him anything. Veneer was left completely alone. Other then her he has no family. So… he reached out to me.” Floyd said.

“What!? Like, he mailed to you? And you responded back?” Branch tossed the files on the couch. “And you didn’t think about asking US if we were okay with it?” He was fuming. How could his brother be so naive, so forgiving?

“I have to agree on Branch with this one Floyd, I know you feel for Veneer. Maybe he can be a good kid, but we’re not risking it.” Bruce added.

“Guys please. Listen I knew them before they did what they did. They were misguided, lost. They’re good kids I swear. Look I know what it’s like to walk on you sinking,” He looked at Branch. “I want to do right, I want to show Veneer what true family is about, what it’s liking to live in harmony with your siblings. Let’s do that guys.” Floyd looked back and forth between all his brothers, but he saw the stubbornness in all their eyes… they had made up their mind.

“You….you knew them before their little fame thing?” Poppy asked, earning a nod from the little Troll. “Guys maybe you should trust him. I… I think it’s worth a shot.”

“You can’t be serious Poppy!” Branch exclaimed.

“I’m sure they’ll keep a watchful eye on him. They wouldn’t let him participate in the first place if they didn’t have any protocols.” She added.

“No! I’m sorry Poppy, I know your queen, but I am the big brother. Sorry Floyd, but once we get there, you switch to someone else. End of discussion.” John Dory set his foot down.

Floyd sighed in defeat. He hunched over on the couch, looking at the file. Floyd didn’t bother telling them how excited Veneer had sounded when he mentioned the plan to get him back on his feet. He didn’t want to imagine the look on his face when he’d have to turn on him down. Floyd rode the rest of the trip in silence.

It was another hour until they finally saw the glistening lights shining from the mountain… they were back at Mount Rageous. This time they took the highway that lead them deeper in the glimmering city. They were finally able to see what it was all made of …. And it was stunning. Their buildings were made of gems and fine jewels the trolls have never even seen. Somehow they used these gems to power their technology. The deeper they traveled into Mount Rageous, the more adults they began to see. If they thought the teens were big, the adults were much taller. The Trolls also saw children and infants for the first time in the city.

“Alright, like, do all Rageons have to be good looking.” John Dory scoffed. All eyes turned to Rhonda as she went down the ride. Children giggled and starting chasing after her. Rhonda began getting carried away and playing with the children.

“Hey old girl! We have a destination. You can play later.” JD called out. Hesitantly, she continued down the road until she got to a beautiful park where a stunning stage was set up.

“Looks like this is it.” Clay exclaimed as Rhonda neared the entrance. She stopped, allowing Brozone and Poppy to hop off. It was intimidating at first, being surrounding by such tall beings, but the excitement of the Rageons upon laying eyes on the little Trolls allowed a calmness to overcome them.

“Oh my gosh your Brozone!”

“I loved your performance at the Rage Dome!”

“I’m so glad your brother is okay!”

“Can we have your autograph!”

Rageon upon Rageon came surrounding them. John Dory was overjoyed… finally he and his brothers were getting the recognition he’d dreamed of… not only to be known by the trolls, but world wide, every species chanting their name.

“One at a time guys! There’s plenty of Brozone to go around!” He exclaimed. All the brothers loved the attention, they loved giving autographs. Branch was one who was still getting used to it. If it weren’t for Poppy, he’d probably just shy away in the back. The only little Troll not participating was Floyd. He hung around near Rhonda. His eyes darted around looking for a Rageon with green swooped hair.

“Are you Bruce?” He looked up to see three Rageons staring down around him. Their look fit the description in the files: one boy, dark red skin with flaming orange hair styles in a faux hawk, and two girls, both similar in their blue tinted skin color, except one had peacock colored hair while the other aegean.

“Taize, Glimmer, and Gala I take it.” Floyd responded. The three young Rageons smiled.

“This is soooooo exciting!” Gala chimed.

“I bet. But I’m not Bruce. He’s brother over there. And that’s John Dory.” Floyd pointed out. “I’m Floyd.”

The Rageons gaped, “You were the little guy Velvet and Veneer troll-napped!” Glimmer gasped.

“Hopefully they’re still rotting in jail.” Taize added.

“Y-yeah.” Floyd stammered. Behind him he could hear his brothers approach them.

“Taize I assume! The names John Dory! I’ll be your mentor.”

“And I’m Clay, this is Bruce, were are both you’re lovely ladies mentors.”

Everyone turned to look at Floyd and Branch, “And we will be right back, we just need to have a word with the officials!” Brnach pushed Floyd along to the main tables.

“Branch, I’m asking one more time: Please don’t do this? We can do really good by Veneer hear. If you get to know him Branch, he reminds so much of you.”

“Whoa, whoa, don’t even compare me to him. I don’t go around stealing peoples talent.”

“But Branch…”

“No Floyd! I don’t normally agree with John, but on this one he has my vote. Veneer can cry me a river for all I care.” Branch scoffed.

“Floyd?” A familiar voice sounded from behind them. The two Trolls turned around slowly. Behind them stood a pale Rageon with bright green hair covered in a purple beanie. He wore a golden oversized hoodie over black skinny jeans and purple sneakers: Veneer. He smiled down at the Trolls….but they were speechless. It wasn’t seeing him in casual Rageon attire that through them off….it was the tube connected to his nose, trailing behind him into a backpack. Branch pulled Floyd aside, whsipering to where only he could here.

“What’s wrong with him?” He demanded.

Floyd shurgged, staring wide eyes up at Veneer, “I….I don’t know.” The Rageon didn’t notice their surprised faces as he smiled at them.

“So, I guess, you two are my mentors.” He chimed. Floyd and Branch didn’t respond. For one, they didn’t expect to find Veneer in this state. But no, they couldn’t mentor him, wouldn’t mentor him, he didn’t deserve it….did he?

“Umm…Veneer…there’s something we have to tell you…I’m sorry….” Floyd began. It pained him to do so, to turn away someone who had reached out to him for help… but this was the first time his brothers really agreed on something. If he had to choose between the kid or his brothers, well, it was a no brainer…right?

#trolls band together #trolls 3 #velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #veneer #velvet and veneer trolls #trolls band together brozone #trolls brozone #brozone #trolls branch #trolls 3 band together #trolls 3 veneer #trolls fanfic #fanfic writing #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #trolls #veneer trolls #mount rageous #trolls movie #trolls fandom

[shitty-fallout-art]

Danse is french for dance, Chanson is french for song

-Operating out of the commonwealth, Chanson is one of the brotherhoods strongest and most loyal members, and most of his squad understand why.

-Originally from rivet city, Chanson and his wife Barbara had cut out a fairly average life for themselves as scavengers, selling whatever they could find in the marketplace for a meager profit. It was far from easy or comfortable, but it was enough to get by, and hopefully, one day, it would even be enough to support a family.

-But unknown to them, the problems of the commonwealth were slowly leaking into the capital, and soon rumors began to spread of horrific creatures coming to raid their homes.

-Like most wastelanders, Chanson had a rather skewed and bigoted view of mutants and ghouls, so naturally he took up with the other citizens of rivet city to make sure these "synthetic people" were found and dealt with accordingly.

-He didn't think that the fear and paranoia would turn people against each other so quickly, he didn't think that people would begin to suspect their neighbors and friends that they had known for years.

-He didn't think Barbara was suspicious at all, he had no idea why anyone would ever think that, but somehow, her head had ended up on the chopping block, and radical action had to be taken to ensure that rivet city was safe.

-Chanson had been wracked by grief, but mostly, anger. He couldn't blame the people for taking up arms, he was right along side them in thinking that a witch hunt was the perfect way in weeding out an unknown threat.

-Instead, he blamed the synth. The creation that defined god and was abomination, the one that had secretly infiltrated their homes and turned everyone against each other. If this thing had never come here, had never existed, than Barbara would still be alive.

-So Chanson did what was to be expected, he found the synth through intense trial and error, until he was the last person still standing in Rivet city.

-Did he regret what had to be done? Of course he did, but the Brotherhood seemed very understanding of his case. His story was horrifying, and would only happen again and again unless something was done to stop the problem at its source.

-Chanson was welcomed with open arms and was on the first recon mission into the commonwealth, where he currently seeks to stop the institute and wipe out every last synth they created.

-In terms of personality, Chanson is a rather strict and cold individual, always keeping others at a distance and commanding his squad with ruthless ambition.

-Many of the other soldiers describe him as fierce, mysterious, and unflinching. He's a great leader that gets results and lets nothing phase him, though sometimes they see this look of sadness in his eyes that seems...so unlike the man they know now.

-After rivet city, Chanson never let anyone get close to him again, both out of grief and fear. Most people know his story, but that's all they know, and with his cold disposition its hard to tell what's actually going on inside that head of his.

#i might edit this and add more detail later but im mentally echausted rn #fallout #fallout 4 #deacon #swapout au #swapout paladin chanson #shittys fallout aus #shittys art #fallout au character profile

[aquaquadrant]

thoughts on the new character bios/interviews that the dreamworks twitter posted below the cut, as promised

so right off the bat, i’m trying to figure out when these interviews took place. it seems to be along the lines of a ‘where are they now?’ for the nublar six, so it’d be long enough after their rescue for them to be settled back in their lives. in terms of exact timing, my guess would be it’s 2-3 years before the time frame of chaos theory, and here’s why.

ben’s part mentions him starting college. if he was 14 during JWCC, he would be around 17 at the time of JW fallen kingdom (ie. during the epilogue scene) cuz it’s 3 years after JW. this would make him roughly 21 during chaos theory cuz it’s supposed to be around the same time as JW dominion (i think so, anyway, could be misremembering), which is 4 years after fallen kingdom. while it’s possible ben delayed his start at college bc of the whole ‘was stranded on dinosaur island for a while’ thing, starting at 21 seems pretty late. so this would most likely indicate the interviews were closer to the timing of the epilogue scene, maybe a year or two after (putting ben at 17-19).

more evidence: darius’s part portrays him as fairly well-adjusted and mentions him traveling to give talks, as we saw in the epilogue. we know that at the start of chaos theory, darius has been isolating himself for an unknown amount of time following brooklynn’s supposed death. i doubt ‘the dino times’ would’ve been able to get ahold of him for an interview.

final point: kenji’s part mentions his relationship with brooklynn and that “all is good in casa de kenji.” so like, it’s very unlikely brooklynn is ‘dead’ yet LMAO

the only thing that snags at me is sammy’s part saying she has her own ranch now. if this interview took place a couple years before chaos theory, she wouldn’t be older than 20. that’s a pretty damn young age to own and operate your own ranch- but since she comes from a family of ranchers, it wouldn’t be impossible. perhaps her family purchased some additional land for her to manage a smaller herd and they stay in close business with each other (providing surplus calves as replacement heifers for sammy’s herd, for example). either way, we stan a strong independent businesswoman.

also there’s the fact that they didn’t make one for brooklynn, when theoretically she would’ve still been alive at the time these interviews were done. but i think the dreamworks team might’ve just been concerned that ppl would confuse the timeline and use it as proof brooklynn is alive (full disclosure: i fully believe brooklynn is alive but ofc the show wants us to still think she’s dead) so i could see them leaving her out just for that reason.

now that the timeline junk is of the way, here’s more random thoughts.

yaz doesn’t seem to have returned to her career as an aspiring pro athlete (seems like something the interviewer would’ve mentioned if she had). this feeds my headcanon of her retaining permanent damage to her ankle quite well. also, the trauma. sammy’s part says they “don’t have time to keep worrying about all that running for our lives stuff.” maybe that’s part of it: yaz decided to just settle down and enjoy the quiet life on the ranch. good for her!!

kenji opened up a climbing school?? that’s random as fuck but i’m here for it. on the surface, it seems like the kinda thing rich tourists would sign up for- y’know, the ppl who travel to exotic places around the world to climb shit. but it’s actually a super useful skill to have in a post-dinosaur world, and kenji knows all too well how important these kinds of skills are for survival. so for me, it’s a choice that reflects the maturing he did during his character arc.

i’ve seen some ppl speculating that yasammy might’ve had a breakup/relationship issues. i sincerely hope that’s not the case- at the time of the interviews, they seemed to be in a very committed relationship, but since that was prob a couple years ago i guess there’s a chance something could’ve happened after. fingers crossed i’m wrong and we’ll just get loads of wonderful yasammy content in the show🤞

i’m curious what ben went/was going to college for. considering the epilogue slated him as researching with mae on mantah corp island, i wonder if he’d pursue some kind of neuro/psych/animal behavior thing.

yaz anxiety mention! god please let the show delve into all the PTSD these kids must’ve brought back from the island.

every new bit of info we get has me so excited like can the show just drop already 😩⚰️

#jurassic world chaos theory #jwct #jwct spoilers #camp cretaceous #jwcc

[roomsofangel]

IN THE ABSENCE OF EVERYTHING, I PROMISE TO KEEP YOU WARM . . jeong yunho

synopsis ateez are on a much needed break after their recent comeback — traveling overseas for a short-term vacation, yunho desires nothing more than just to ease himself and let go of worries.

but with a run in with someone he deems an angel in human skin, yunho learns she doesn’t know who he is and pretends to be someone else.

filled with secrets and a burning romance, yunho learns that no matter what you do or how hard you try, life just isn’t fair.

and he only had himself to blame.

wc 775

chapter warnings none that i can think of!

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ♥️

yunho swore if someone asked him, he could describe the day you two encountered again down to every little detail there was, something that deeply burned into his memory and left a permanent scar. this was something perfectly handcrafted and molded into your shape. a personal shrine for you in his mind.

but time was never on yunho’s side, his slender fingers messing with the year old receipts he was dreading to throw away, the list of charges lining up before he shoved them back into the shoebox, a huff of air leaving his lungs as he closed his eyes, your silhouette on display. he swears he can reach you if he just shuts them tighter. with a sigh, he grabbed the shoebox cover and closed the lid, heart faltering for a second each time he read the handwriting

yunho and y/n’s memories

i’ll love you forever, yuyu! - yn

but time was never on yunho’s side, and he only had himself to blame for always being five seconds too late.

yunho remembers the first time he asked you out, the same day you two reconnected and you swore he was following you for a moment and he had let out a belly laugh — but now when he recalls the memory, it tastes bittersweet and he wants to purge it out like bad liquor. his regrets stain it all, knowing that was the day he chose not to tell you the truth.

“i’m just coming to pick up something from a friend,” he had voiced and you scoffed at first, not believing him until his manager had came with a few documents shoved into an envelope, resting in a tote bag that yunho accepted happily, “see? my good friend,” he teased

and technically he wasn’t lying about the friend, his manager was a decent guy who he got along with, maybe he wouldn’t go out for drinks and sunday brunch with the guy but he liked to think that they were decent enough — professionalism was a line he didn’t cross however, his manager was his manager.

but that day, he wasn’t.

that day, yunho was someone else. someone that he wished he could be again, and he knew that was selfish.

it wasn’t fair on you that you fell in love with someone you were now convinced you didn’t know at at all

but yunho doesn’t blame you, he never really knew himself either.

“do you wanna go to this cat cafe?” yunho asked you, the first place he ever took you to and you were hesitant at first — an intrigued expression, but tone laced with venom when you had eventually spoke

you hummed, not bothering to lift your head to meet his gaze or act as if you were genuinely acknowledging him, hell, you could have convinced yunho you didn’t even hear a thing he said, but you stopped flipping through the magazine you were assessing before your answer followed, “a cat cafe?” you parroted back to him, finally meeting his gaze with brows lifting in question, “why would i go with you?”

yunho shrugged, “so i can apologize better,” he responded to your glare with a smile, showing a bit of teeth and he felt accomplished watching the red run across your cheeks more and more, you rolled your eyes but yunho saw the smile you were fighting back

“just do it here.” you motioned to the building the two of you were in and he shook his head

“no, i wanna be surrounded by cute cats and hot chocolate,” wiggling his eyebrows to tease you, he let out another laugh when you playfully shoved his shoulder, your expression not matching but with the way your eyes glistened when they met his, even you couldn’t stop the small smile from forming

your eyes flickered to the clock then back towards the taller male in front of you who fixed the strap of the bag on his shoulder, “do you mind waiting a bit? my shift ends in ten minutes, i just have to sort out these,” your hand lifted the magazine you were going through earlier to shimmy it a little, and yunho smiled wide

“i don’t mind!” he beamed, walking towards one of the sofas that were in the lobby the two of you resided in, plopping himself down and getting comfortable, “i’ll be here.”

if only the two of you had known what was going to be awaiting you, because maybe it would have hurt less — but time was never on yunho’s side

no matter how desperately he wanted it to be now that you were gone.

masterlist . . next

#. . 🗒️ 𓈒 ׂ ☀️ 𖥔 in the absence of everything #ateez fic #jeong yunho fic #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez writing #ateez au #ateez ff #jeong yunho writing #jeong yungo smut #jeong yunho angst #jeong yunho fluff #jeong yunho au #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho fanfic #jeong yunho ateez #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho #yunho x reader

[ghouly-boiiiii]

My Name Is Cooper

Lucy x Cooper Howard / The Ghoul

If you're looking for some Ghoulcy that's angsty, funny and kinda sweet with Lucy wearing the pants in the relationship, this might be for you!

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Humor, Banter, Femdom

Summary: Follows Lucy and The Ghoul on their journey after the events of Season 1. Lucy has to come to terms with what she’s learned about the company and people she once trusted with her life and the future of the world, and the bounty hunter's rough exterior starts to break down as he begins to see his old self in her.

After coming across an abandoned vault, they decide to spend the night there and take advantage of its remaining amenities. While there, Lucy finds some of Cooper Howard’s old movies… The same movies she grew up watching with her dad. She puts them in, and as she recalls distant memories and struggles to cope with the truth about her father, she comes to another startling realization…

Authors Note: I just wanted to write something with these two. Not sure where it's gonna go, but I've got at least 3-4 chapters in mind, and there will be smut somewhere in there lol. I just think they have an interesting dynamic and much potential for witty banter and an interesting romantic/sexual relationship. Especially with the idea that Lucy may or may not have had a major crush on the actor Mr. Cooper Howard. And that The Ghoul may or may not become an absolute lost puppy for the first woman who looks at him in *that way* after 200 years of being a walking corpse.

It's gonna be an adventure. Let's see where this takes us, y'all. lol

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,016

SPOILER WARNING: Contains all the spoilers

No trigger warnings except eventual sexy time with a zombie man.

Chapter 1 My Name Is Lucy

“You’re awful quiet there, Vaulty.” The Ghoul said, breaking a long bout of silence as he glanced over his shoulder at his human companion, with Dogmeat faithfully prancing beside him.

Lucy didn’t look up at him. She just stared at the ground, dredging her feet heavily through the sand. Dawn had long passed and the sun was now beating down, but she could barely feel the burn on her cheek as her mind raced with the things she now knew.

“You ain’t said a word since we left Cali… Hell, you ain’t even beggin’ for water.” He joked, trying to prod a response out of her.

“Lucy.” She said simply.

“What now?”

“My name is Lucy.”

“Yeah? I know that… So what?”

“That’s my name…” She looked up at him, her brow slightly furrowed and voice sharp with agitation. “I just thought since we’re gonna be traveling together, maybe you could use it sometime…”

The Ghoul looked over his shoulder again for a moment, grinning slightly. He seemed a bit surprised by her tone, but also somewhat amused. “Hah… well, alright then, Ms. Lucy MacLean.” He said mockingly. “Tell me somethin’. Whaddaya think we gonna find when we finally catch up with that daddy a’ yours?”

The vault dweller felt her jaw clench a little and her brow furrowed more. “Why are you asking me?”

“Oh, I just thought… you been down there in that vault all this time. You ought to know somethin’.”

“Ugh… No! I don’t know shit!” She snapped, raising her head up a bit more. “…In fact… I’m the one who should be asking you the questions!” The girl narrowed her eyes towards him, zeroing in on the back of his wrinkly, bald head. “How do you know my father?”

“Hah… well… that is quite a story.” He said with a snicker. “But I think we best save that for another day.”

“I want answers.” She demanded. “Besides, we’ve got a long way to go, don’t we? Might as well talk...”

“I’m used to travelin’ alone, sweetie… Kinda prefer the peace and quiet, if I’m bein’ honest…”

“Tch…” She scoffed skeptically. “You like peace and quiet… or is that just a nice way of telling me to shut up?”

The Ghoul let out a chuckle. “Nah… If I wanted you to shut up, I’d just shoot ‘cha.”

She blinked, then picked up the pace, jogging up next to him. “Alright then… let’s talk.”

He glanced over at her, then shrugged. “Be my guest.”

“What’s your name?”

“My name?”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned it before… What do I call you?”

“I ain’t got no name, sweetie.”

“You have to have a name…”

“Not no more, I don’t.”

“Well, I have to call you something...”

“Heh…” He huffed a bit. His voice was casual, but clearly holding back some irritation. “Then you can just call me ‘Asshole’.”

“Come on. Tell me your name.”

“It don’t matter...” He said with a slight scowl. “...The man that name belonged to died a long time ago.”

Lucy stared at him a moment, then looked away, taking several steps before turning back to him. “...What... was he like?”

The Ghoul stopped in his tracks, then leaned to one side a bit and tilted his head before turning to her in exasperation. “I said you could talk. Not ask me a bunch of stupid ass questions.”

“I wanna know…” Lucy said, tilting her head a bit too as she stood her ground. “I wanna know who you were before you became… you know…” She paused as she looked him up and down with a slight sneer. “...this…”

The two-and-a-half century old bounty hunter stared at her a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes shifted towards the barren wasteland around them where Dogmeat had decided to wonder while she waited for them to continue, then looked back at the young vault dweller. “You wanna know what he was like…?” He finally said, then his eyes moved to the distance ahead of them as he continued to walk. “Well… he was a lot like you…” The Ghoul stated with a scowl. “Naive. Hopeful... Thought the world was a... good place fulla… good people who wanted to do the right thing...” The distain in his voice was palpable.

“You were… like me?” She said, her tone was both surprised and doubtful.

“I told you, Vaulty. I’m you…” He reminded her. “Only difference between us is…”

“Time.” She finished his sentence.

He looked at her a moment, then turned away and said, “That’s right…”

Lucy got quiet again, staring at the ground as they continued to walk.

A period of silence passed between them. The Ghoul found himself glancing over at her a couple times, before asking, “You worried… what this wasteland’s gonna do to ya…?” He said, his tone oddly compassionate. “What it’s gonna turn ya into…”

She quivered a bit, looked up at him, then back down.

“Well… I don’t blame ya. I’d probably feel the same way, lookin’ at me…” He glanced over and smirked at her a bit, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. So he continued. “I hate to tell ya though… It's already started, sweetheart… But I think you already know that…” He grit his teeth together for a moment and sucked in some air between them. “Not much you can do about it, but…” He let out a somber exhale, hesitating a moment before glancing at her again and saying, “You know… it ain’t too late... to go back.”

The girl blinked, then looked up at him with wide eyes. “Go back? To where…?” Her tone was suddenly rather upset. “To the vault? That place? That…” She shook her head. “No! No, there… there’s no way I could go back…!” She swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “Not after… Not after knowing... what I know now…” She choked back a sob and shook her head. “Just go back…? Back to my old life and pretend… like none of this ever happened? …I can’t.”

“Hmm…” The Ghoul ground his teeth a little. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that…” He took another deep breath. “That's the problem with the truth. Once you got it, you can’t put it back… No matter how bad you might want to.”

She swallowed hard against the painful lump in her throat, then looked up at him. “...Why did you let me come with you?”

“Again, with the questions…” He said with an exasperated breath. “We both lookin’ for the same thing, ain’t we?”

“...And why should what I'm looking for matter to you?”

“It don’t. Not really, but… Shit, we goin’ in the same direction.”

Lucy was getting annoyed by how The Ghoul kept running the conversation in circles, but she wasn’t about to give up. “I don’t understand why you’re being nice to me now… Why don’t you just take me hostage again?”

The old bounty hunter snickered a little. “Well, cause I ain't got no reason to, sweetheart. I don’t just go around tormenting people for the fun of it. What kinda person you think I am, huh?”

“Huh.” She scoffed at him as if she couldn't believe the stupidity of that question. “Well… kind of… not a very good one, if we’re being completely honest.”

“Heh… Well, you’re not wrong about that... But the real question is… if that’s how ya feel, why’d you decide to come with me?”

She looked down, shook her head and shrugged. “As long as you’re not dragging me around with a rope, I think I’d rather take my chances with you than be out here on my own again…”

“Yeah… life’s full of hard decisions, ain’t it?” He turned towards her, lowering his head a little and looking at her from under the brim of his hat. “You know… I underestimated you... Ms. Lucy MacLean. I thought a cushy vault dweller like yourself would be nothin’ more than roach kibble.” He looked forward and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “But… you got somethin’ in ya. Somethin’ that’s drivin’ ya… Maybe it’s that curiosity a’ yours. Maybe a misplaced sense of justice… or… maybe something else. Whatever it is… it gives you that edge. You got that survival instinct… Aw hell, maybe I’m a little curious too…”

“Curious… about what?”

“To see how far you’re willing to take it… before you do go crawling back into that hole.”

She frowned deeply and glared at him. Her voice was quiet and shaky, but firm. “I’m… never going back down there… I don’t care… what happens up here.” Her voice began to waver and crack as she spoke. “I’m never going back… I can’t go back…”

“Yeah…” He nodded approvingly. “Because you don’t take no bullshit. That’s what I like about 'che. I respect that.”

The vault dweller, or rather former vault dweller, huffed a little. “Great… I’ve earned the respect of a murdering monster…” She said sarcastically as she wiped her eyes. “That makes me feel just… so much better…”

“Call me what you want. But like I said… just give it a little time...” He smiled a little as he continued to stride forward. “...And well... to tell you the truth, I guess I feel like I owe you one, you bringing me those vials and all….” He chuckled a little at himself. “What was that you said? Golden rule, motherfucker?”

She smirked a little, feeling justified. “Yeah… but… I... was also the one who... broke them in the first place… so…”

“That’s right, you did.” The Ghoul said playfully. “But then, I suppose I shouldn’t have been using you as bait in a poisoned river.”

“Yeah… Yeah, th-that’s right! You shouldn’t have!” Lucy yelped, suddenly getting animated as she recalled the ordeal. “That was… not very respectable behavior at all, sir!”

“Yeah… rude, huh?”

“Very rude!”

“Down right ungentlemanly.”

“The most ungentlemanly!” She huffed and puffed with righteous indignation. “A-and you know what? You do owe me! Yeah! You owe me big time, mister! You cut off my finger and… and I saved your life! I didn’t have to do that!”

The Ghoul let out an amused laugh. “Oh… I still got your finger.” He said, pausing to wiggle it in front of her.

Lucy squinted in horror as she recognized the out-of-place digit, crudely stitched onto the stump of his missing index finger. Then her eyes got wide as she leaned back, sneering in disgust. “You are… a sick, sick man.”

“What? You want it back?”

“I… found a replacement already… thanks.” She said, holding up her own bluish-gray finger.

“Never let a good body part go to waste, I say.” He said with a grin. “Besides, you did bite one a’ mine off first. Only fair you replace it.”

“Y-you kidnapped me!” She threw the blame back at him.

The Ghoul let out another laugh and Dogmeat barked in excitement. “Ah, Vaulty… it’s gonna be fun havin’ you around, ain’t it?” He said before continuing to walk.

She scoffed as she began to follow, but her voice softened a bit. “Okay… so… so does that mean I don’t have to worry about you cutting off any more of my fingers…? Or… anything else like that?”

“Well… now that depends, don’t it?”

“On what?”

“Whether you plan on bitin’ off any more a’ mine, darlin'.” He said, looking over at her. “Eye for an eye. Finger for a finger. You bite my ass, I bite your ass. Golden rule, motherfucker.”

Lucy scrunched up her face in an attempt to hide that she was trying not to laugh. “I-I… I will do my best…” She said after containing herself a little and raising her head up in a dignified, but also mockingly serious way. “But you know… sometimes… a fellas gotta eat a fella… right?”

The Ghoul laughed heartily, amused at her attempt to match his humor. “Well, in that case… next time I think you better swallow.”

She felt herself crack a smile, then began to laugh as well.

To be continued...

#the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #lucy maclean #fallout prime #ghoulcy #fallout show #fallout series #fallout tv series #vaultghoul #lucy x cooper #the ghoul x lucy #cooper howard x lucy maclean #lucy maclean x cooper howard #fanfiction #my posts #my fanfiction

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#i was looking through old photos today. they where from wjen i was like 1 and it made me so sad #bc my mum would have been like only a year or 2 older then i am now and she looked so young #and now she has an abdomen full of tumors and blistered hands and feet. theyre prob gonna hsve to remove her bladder #but shes still very pragmatic abt it. but she grew up in a house where no one really cared about her feelings so she made them small #and now her mother calls and doesn't ask how her grandkids are doing and doesn't ask how her daughter is doing. im cursed with terrible #grandparents on both sides but i resent my mothers mother worse. though my dad said i probably wouldnt have survived his upbringing #and hes right. my nana has like zero empathy and cant cook for shit. idk how my parents r so normal but the fact i had a good upbringing is #probably the only reason im still here. and thats the other thing that made me sad abt the old pics. just looking at this little baby with a #fucked up head and thinking: in 25 years that kid is gonna b so broken down their not gonns kno what to do or how to fix it. idk whats wrong #with me. ive always been some stage of miserable but i used to b able to get things done. and now i cant seem to force functionality #and it sucks. bc im home now and i still feel like im cringing around this open wound in my chest. but whatever #as of today ive started taking ab1lify. hopefully it helps in the long term but in the short term it triggers my 0cd. which is not fun #its so frustrating. whatever. i also found out my eyes used to not work together. not enough to have a lazy eye but it was hard for me to #read and apparently my eyes were tracking at like double the speed of a normal person. wtf is wrong with my brain? also also my mum was like #yea i never would have guessed bip0lar but we thought it was something. autism i could see 100% but yea didnt see that coming. ao i guess #i brehave like a bit of an oddball. ans my nana would bother my dad to try to make me participate in church and my dad was like no. she #clearly don't wanna b here lol. ay. they did the best they could which i appreciate #unrelated

[immamapletreekid]

instead of grinding for finals i lost hours to a one piece wiki spiral

#IT ALL STARTED...WITH CP9S INDEPENDENT REPORT #in the most predictable fashion. ive yet again fallen for the “dangerous murder bot villains are actually a found family and genuinely care #for one another“ #PLSSS THE WAY THEY ALL WORKED SO HARD TO EARN THE MONEY TO TREAT LUCCI #thinking so hard about how they are one collecfive unit. they move together they work travel live thrive together #giggled so hard at kaku giraffe slide #SOEAKING OF WHICH I JUST LEARNED KAKU IS THE YOUNGEST OUT OF CP9 #HE WAS 18 WHEN THEY PLANTED HIM AND THE OTHERS IN WATER 7 #im not ok im ripping my pillow to shreds punchjng the wall screaming shaking good GOD DJFJ #KALIFAS DAD WAS IN THE PREV GEN OF CP9????? SO SHES RRALLY BEEN THERE THROUGH IT ALL #thinking about lucci and jabra and blueno trio... #yes i originally was devastated to discover my favourite shipwrifjts were actually undercover government assassins but like #the found family.....maybe not found family but FORGED FAMILY THEY MADE IT WORK #i still think it's so silly that. kaku is the youngest but hes second ij terms od power and he speaks like an old man #in my ideal world cp9 brutally murders spandam and they live their best lives after doijg whatever #attention span for stats and cs??? nonexistent #but yea sure i can spend 2 hours memorizing the key detaisl from the wiki entries of all cp9 agents and making a chart and timeline #maybe this is a sign...that i need to fix this before it causes bigger issues #rambling about stuff #wait omg no last thought is how when all the cp9 members reunite after 5 years and firsg thing they do is immediately check their doriki #and jabras upset by how both lucci ajd kakus are higher than his now but then u think about how hes the oldest in their group #heck five years ago when they were sent off to water 7 those two were 23 and FUCKIJG 18 YEARS OLD #OF COURSE HES UPSET THESE TWO FUCKING KIDS ARE STRONGEE THAN HIM #who holds seniority over them. im actually devastated and extremely entertained #the last time u see the youngest of your group hes some 18 year old kid you could best in a spar. maybe even leave some words of wisdom for #then he goes and leanrs how to build ships for 5 years and comes back stronger than u #they are a family to me... HE COULD HAVE ABANDONED TJEM?!?! THEM ALL HAD THE CHOICE OF LEAVING THE OTHERS BEHIND TO SAVE THEMSELVES #BUT THEY DIDNT. HE STILL GAVE KALIFA HIS SHIRT AND CARRIED KAKU ON HIS BACK ALL THE WAY TO ST POPLAR #biting my hands hitting the wall scratchijg the floors screaming shakijg not normal about these guys #THE WAY JABRA HAS A PET CHICKEN TO COUJTER HATTORI

[violexides]

explaining the relationship i have with my father is so complicated and i keep finding myself facing that question when i'm in college bc like. a professor of mine in office hours literally asked me abt my family and i was like. well i can explain. Parts Of This. but it's mega fucking complicated

#ides.txt #i felt weird too because i was discussing it w a friend who has a bad fucking relationship w their dad #and it felt odd to be like. #my dad's in my life but also did nothing for me. he's not technically negligent but didn't give me the care i needed or at all. #he saved my ass when i came out to my family. we are on very good terms now. i do not feel normally about him. #he has 3 kids and doesn't know how to change a diaper. i think the bad thing i was bracing for in my childhood was him. #i need to impress him and be his favorite child the one who did it right. #i need to see him suffer at the hands of his own mistakes and drown with no one to save him. #and my friend was like Yeah that sounds pretty complicated huh #it's so weird like. yes i love my dad. yes i text him little school updates. #but it never occurred to me that some people can just... ask their dads questions? for help? #that they come to their school events and know all of their friends #that they cook for them and help them with their homework #i don't hate my dad but he's the kind of dad you only ever need when you're 18 years old #i never realized people could have two parents who both did things. you know? i thought you had the Main Parent. #and then the other one. and you never ask the other one.