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#he was terrified for you he said as much!
luveline · 3 days
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omg jade i heard you asking for hotch reqs and i RAN to your inbox
what about hotch taking care of r after they have a lil baby?? i think if i saw that man hold a new baby id die!!!! he could hole their whole head in the palm of his hand 😭😭😭
Every time you move, your hips and more intimate regions hurt like a hot poker. You probably won’t cry, but you require some tylenol and some sympathy to carry on. “Hotch?” you ask. 
Silence. You tip your head back over the armrest to find him. Even upside down, he looks handsome, sitting in the two seater with your little bundle of agony in his arms. Or, arm. The baby rests neatly in the curve of his forearm, his free hand dedicated to the baby’s small back. 
“Hotch?” 
“Who is she talking to?” Hotch asks your baby gently. You know what he’s doing immediately. 
“You get so hung up on the Hotch thing, if you didn’t want to be called Hotch, you shouldn’t have introduced yourself as Hotch.”  
You’ve been calling him Hotch for years, you aren’t going to suddenly kick the habit now. 
“She was my subordinate,” Hotch tells the baby. “She couldn’t have special treatment, even if she is the prettiest subordinate I ever had. It wouldn’t have been fair.” 
“I wouldn’t mind some more tylenol.” 
He raises his gaze. You twist into a painful but better suited position to watch him move the baby closer to his collar, his hand covering the entirety of the baby’s small head. Hotch said Jack was a little baby too, but you’d been terrified regardless, and no matter the size, it was too big for you to come out of the ordeal unscathed. Tylenol isn’t so much wanted as required. 
“I’ll get it for you,” he promises. 
“Thank you, Aaron.” 
“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.” 
He stands and shifts your tiny baby further into his chest, little snores pressed to his collar. “You okay to take him? I’ll make you some lunch at the same time.”
“I can’t eat.” 
“Just chips and a sandwich, honey. You can manage that.”  
You open your arms, letting Hotch lower your baby down into your arms and the surrounding nest of blankets. “You need to go see where Jack is,” you say. 
“I know,” Hotch says, kissing your cheek quickly. “I’m gonna make his lunch too. I’ll be right back.” 
You cuddle your baby to your chest and lean back. Your baby Hotchner is, as previously stated, so tiny, but he’s a nice weight against you, and he sleeps like a champ. You thought easy babies were a myth until now. So far he’s done nothing but sleep and stare at you whenever you talk. You think it’s love, or the surprise of seeing the voices that talked to him nonstop while he was in your belly now out in the open. He does the same to Hotch whenever he’s awake. 
You haven’t named him yet. You asked Jack for help, but he’d recommended you name your new baby Mister Awesome, so you’re at a loss for now. It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll have a name eventually. Until then, he’s the baby. And he’s very well loved. 
You wish he hadn’t hurt so badly to bring into the world, is all. 
Somewhere deeper in the house, Jack tumbles down the stairs, to Hotch's audible horror. “Are you alright? What are you doing, buddy?” 
“I’m being quick!” 
“Please be careful!” There’s the sound of a kiss. “You sure you’re okay? Yeah? Gonna go and keep Y/N company?” 
“Yeah, dad.” 
“Okay, thank you. I’m gonna make your lunch now, any requests?” 
“Peanut butter. And chips. And pretzels. And orange slices? And–”
“How about I bring you lots of everything, bud?” 
“Yes. Please. Hug?” 
They must hug, though you can’t see or hear it, as Jack walks into the living room with wildly tousled hair and a smile. He climbs over the back of the couch even though he shouldn’t, dropping onto your feet, a tangle of arms and legs. “Hi, Y/N.” 
“Hi baby. You hungry?” 
“Dad’s gonna make me a sandwich.” 
You reach over to collect his hand in yours, squeezing his fingers gently. You’d thought for sure that having a baby in the house would upset him, if only because his usual routine was disrupted —he’d had to make room for you first, and now suddenly there’s a new baby taking all the attention? it’s not what only kids usually want— but Jack’s an easy kid too. He squeezes your hand back, shimmying up the couch to lean on your leg. It aches, every touch to your lower half a reminder of the pain further inward, but he’s not rough. He climbs further onto your leg and rests his cheek on your shoulder. 
“Is this a cuddle?” you murmur. 
“Pretty please.” 
“No please required.” You frown to yourself, trying to juggle the baby into the opposite arm so you can wrap the one closest to Jack around his shoulders. You manage it poorly. “Dad makes this look so easy.” 
“He has longer arms,” Jack says with a shrug. His nose jabs the skin just above your chest. “Don’t worry about it.” 
“I won’t. Thank you, babe.” 
Jack touches the baby’s back. “He’s sleeping?” 
“Yeah. Must be weird getting to sleep all the time and then suddenly being born. At least he’s not crying.” 
You and Jack lay with each other for a while, watching the baby snore as you whisper about what Hotch is making for lunch. You wish he’d brought you the tylenol before he started, but he’s got a lot going on. You’re glad he’s the one making lunch (though you can’t be expected to right now, considering). The idea of having to stand there and butter a sub roll sounds like a low level of torture. 
“Don’t let me fall asleep holding the baby,” you tell Jack, your eyes drifting closed as Jack snuggles closer to your face.
“I can go get dad.” 
“I’m here,” Hotch says swiftly. You drag your face to the side to see him in the doorway, two dinner trays balanced with ease in his hands despite their obvious weight and full glasses on either side. “Don’t fall asleep, I’m coming. Sorry about the wait.” 
Hotch puts your trays on the coffee table and scoops the baby from your chest, leaving behind an awfully warm patch of skin. 
“Tylenols on the tray,” he says, smiling at you lovingly. “You okay?” 
“Fine. Jack’s gonna feed me.” 
To his credit, your lovely stepson offers to really feed you, but you’re not so tired now there’s food in front of you. Your stomach groans in want. 
Hotch stands looking down at you, baby somehow even smaller looking in his arms. “Need anything else?” 
You hold half of your sandwich up to him. “Eat that.” 
“I’m fine. My hands are full.” 
“I’m not asking, Aaron. Take it.” You force the sandwich on him. “We both know you only need one hand.” 
He’s cautious not to rain crumbs down on the baby. You make no such fuss, bread and lettuce falling down into your lap as you eat. Jack can’t stop giggling, “You’re not s’posed to eat like that!”
“Sorry!” you say, “I’m just so hungry!” 
“It’s okay,” he says. “Dad will vacuum you.” 
Hotch’s mouth is full to bursting, but his nod is vehement. He swallows hard. “I’ll mop you, too.”  
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How did you handle it?
1st part here
A/N: Didn't expect the number of likes on the first part, thank you so much 😭
Also, I know now who does Paige's braids now. I saw her on tiktok.
Warning/s: Read at your own risk
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Following Ice's most recent live stream, Y/N's phone is constantly vibrating, and her Instagram feed is overflowing with follow requests and mentions. She didn't leave her apartment on the weekends after hearing from her teammates about their near-brawl on Friday night. She was trying to blow off some steam at the time, but she lost her cool and almost got into it. Azzi gave them a good earful, and Geno had more to say. Y/N apologized to her teammates, explaining that she was acting out of character at the time.
She felt a little better and forgot about her parents' divorce for a while. Not until her father texted her that he will be at her game next week. Dad is always the one who comes to her games; mom is too busy and cannot make time.
Frustrated, Y/N drops the dumbels.
"Yo! "KK, give me back my phone!" KK is running for her life, clutching Paiges' phone. Paige, on the other hand, looks terrified as if her life depends on with whatever is contained within her phone.
"Whaaaat! Dude, I just caught you stalking---asfghgjjhkjlhlk!" Paige caught up with KK and placed her palm on her mouth.
"Shut up!" She took her phone.
KK sounds like a dying goat now, with Paige's hands still on her mouth. Paige lets go of her and KK gasped for air.
"Shit, Hah! I just did not saw you do that P!" KK is shaking her head, laughing.
"I swear K, if you open your mouth I'll make sure that you will nev---" KK immediately zipped her mouth.
"You got it P! Your 'lil secret is safe." KK gave her a mischievous wink.
These two are as mischievous as ever.
Shaking her head, Y/N slips off her sweat-soaked muscle top, revealing only her sports bra. She could see Paige and KK's jaws drop from her peripheral vision. She turned towards them.
"What? "You guys have some saliva here." Y/N pointed to the side of her lip. The two appear to have come to their senses and instantly pretend to do something. Weird. It's as if they're seeing each other for the first time, taking off their clothes. Y/N twisted her hair into a sloppy knot and resumed lifting. She was halfway through lifting when Nika slapped her bum.
"Babe, I need you to braid my hair. Do you have a sec?"
She nodded to Nika and followed her. They walk past the others who were working out, and Y/N couldn't help but notice Paige and the way her biceps and deltoids popped while doing that damn pull up. Get a grip, Miller; you see your teammate doing this on a regular basis. Y/N reprimanded herself.
"So is mine eye enthralled by thy shape," Nika recited dramatically.
Nika came out laughing after noticing Y/N glancing at Paige.
"Don't worry, babe; she gets it a lot. And... Damn, did you just realized she's fine? You have to keep up; you have a home court advantage here." Nika winked. Y/N gave Nika a puzzled glance. It's not that she likes Paige; she just admires the muscles. That is it.
"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Y/N said making Nika snort.
"Okay, alright. I'm blind, I can't see, must be my poor eyesight."
Y/N endured Nika's teasing while doing her hair; she doesn't want to appear defensive, so she allows her friend and pretends that Nika Muhl seeing her looking at Paige Bueckers didn't affect her.
"Thank you, Baby. "I love the braids." Nika blew her a kiss before they returned to their routines.
------------
Paige glanced around cautiously before scrolling through her phone. She couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake that had led to her being caught by KK. She wasn't stalking, though; the algorithm following Ice's live had led her to Y/N's tagged photos and edits on Instagram. It was kind of annoying that Y/N was now known for being the "pretty girl" from the team instead of for her talent as a player. Paige had witnessed firsthand how great Y/N was during her time at Stanford. If it weren't for her MCL injury during her second year, she would have been neck and neck with Nika's stats in the last 2022-2023 conference.
"Girly, you are still not done? Man you are really living up to be a stalker ." KK tried to glance at Paige's phone, Paige was quick to hide it.
"I am not!" Paige responded defensively.
"Of course, why stalk when you can see her every day. Home court advantage." KK playfully raised her brows and gestured towards where Y/N is, shooting 3 point shots. Yeah, Paige mused to herself. Paige knows she's got the home court advantage, always playing on familiar turf. Y/N, on the other hand, is a social media ghost, her posts as rare as a shooting star, reserved only for strategic brand alliances. Just like she guards the offensive players on the court, she protects her privacy with the same intensity, keeping her personal life shrouded in mystery.
"You are not gonna like this." KK's gasp breaks the silence, drawing Paige's attention as she leans in, sharing her latest sports article discovery. With rapt interest, they both delve into the words, their silent communion speaking volumes as they absorb every line, lost in the world of sports unfolding before them.
Sports Agent Katherine Taylor-Miller Entangled in New Romance Amidst Divorce
In a whirlwind of events, sports agent Katherine Taylor-Miller finds herself at the center of media attention following news of her divorce from husband Craig Miller. The prominent figure in the sports world, best known for representing basketball star Breanna Stewart, is reportedly embarking on a new romance with Los Angeles' top firm lawyer, Drew Ross.
While Taylor-Miller has remained tight-lipped about the circulating photos online, indicating her involvement with Ross, sources close to the situation confirm that the divorce proceedings are well underway. The couple, who share a daughter, aged 22, are navigating this transition as their family dynamic shifts.
Adding a layer of complexity to the situation, their daughter, a talented athlete in her own right, has been making waves on the collegiate basketball scene. Initially playing for Stanford University during her freshman and sophomore years, she has recently transferred to the University of Connecticut for her junior year, following in the footsteps of her mother's client, Breanna Stewart.
The unfolding saga has captivated both sports enthusiasts and gossip followers alike, as speculation mounts about the implications for Taylor-Miller's career and personal life. As the situation continues to develop, all eyes remain on the high-profile sports agent and her newfound path forward.
Paige's confusion bubbles to the surface in her question. "Wait, so... that is Y/N's mom?"
KK nods solemnly. "Yep. Didn't expect that."
Paige's brow furrows as she scans the article again. "That article is nasty. It was unnecessary to mention, Y/N."
The two exchange a knowing glance before their gaze shifts towards Y/N, who remains blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the tabloids.
KK weighs the options for a moment before nodding resolutely. "Very. She's not gonna like it. Do we tell her?" KK's gaze seeks approval from Paige, who meets it with a shake of her head, silently acknowledging the delicate situation and opting to shield Y/N from unnecessary distress for now. "She'll find out sooner."
KK lets out a low whistle, her disbelief evident in her tone. "Unbelievable. I never thought her mom is Katherine Taylor. That woman was a badass, but yeah, whoever wrote this has some unpaid rent due." Paige nods in agreement, a hint of frustration tainting her expression as they both recognize the injustice of the situation.
The sudden thud startles both Paige and KK. Their heads snap towards the source of the sound, only to find Y/N on the bench-side taking a water break, her hand suspended and her phone on the floor.
"That's what we're talking about."
----------------
Y/N absentmindedly follows her teammates to Subway after they decided to grab some lunch there. Despite the buzz of camaraderie around her, she's lost in her own thoughts, savoring the simple pleasure of a break from today's events. Just as she starts to believe her day couldn't get any better, her world is rocked by the unwelcome intrusion of her parents' divorce being publicized.
Her heart sinks as she grapples with the sudden exposure of her family's private turmoil. Y/N has always been fiercely protective of her personal life, preferring to keep it shielded from prying eyes. The earlier article had already crossed a line, but this latest development feels like a betrayal of trust, a violation of the boundaries she holds sacred. She can't help but feel a surge of anger and frustration at the unnecessary intrusion into her family's affairs, a bitterness that threatens to overshadow the sweetness of her teammates' company.
Y/N finds a glimmer of solace in the silent solidarity of her teammates. As they gather around the table at Subway, not a single word is spoken about the tumultuous news that has shaken her world.
In that moment, Y/N feels a profound gratitude wash over her, a deep appreciation for their unspoken understanding and respect for her boundaries.
"The salad won't eat itself," snapped Paige, jolting Y/N from her deep thoughts. Y/N mechanically took a fork, but her salad remained untouched.
"Eat up, Miller. You need your energy." Paige commandeered the fork and began mixing the salad for Y/N.
"How did you handle it?" Y/N's voice trembled with vulnerability, causing Paige to pause mid-stir.
Paige didn't respond immediately, her mind racing to grasp the depth of Y/N's question. It didn't take long for the realization to sink in—it was about the divorce.
"When your parents divorced? How did you handle it?" Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a vulnerability she hadn't intended to reveal. Paige felt a pang of empathy twist in her gut. Y/N's question caught her off guard.
"Nevermind," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she wiped away the threatening tears. Determinedly, she finally began to eat her salad, hoping to distract herself from the emotional turmoil of the day.
As she savored each bite, Y/N made a conscious effort to push aside the weight of her parents' divorce. Her phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls, but she only mustered the strength to respond to her dad via text. All she wanted was for their divorce to be finalized so they could all move forward with their lives.
Her thoughts drifted to the inevitable changes ahead. Her mom and dad would each go their separate ways, free to pursue new relationships if they so chose. While the idea of their family no longer being whole was a painful one, Y/N knew it was time to accept reality.
Above all, she yearned for one simple request: no more articles portraying her solely as her mother's daughter. She was determined to forge her own path, to carve out her own identity separate from her family's legacy.
-------
"You okay, babe?" Nika asked Y/N, slinging her arm around her shoulders. Y/N responded with her most convincing smile. "I'm fine," she assured Nika, though the skepticism lingered in her friend's nod. "Just so you know, we're here for you, okay?" Nika offered a comforting hug. "Thanks, babe."
As they strolled back to the university after lunch, Nika, Azzi, and Aaliyah had already forged ahead for their afternoon classes, while Paige had disappeared into god knows where. Y/N's afternoon lay open; no classes to attend. She pondered whether to take a stroll around her apartment's neighborhood or indulge in a swim in the pool.
Waving goodbye to her teammates as they reached the university's parking lot, she contemplated driving back home.
Sighing, Y/N parked her car and headed towards her apartment, only to be surprised by a waiting Paige Bueckers holding a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge ice cream.
"Paige, don't you have a class or something?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige still in her training attire: a UConn Huskies hoodie, basketball jersey shorts, socks, and slides.
Paige handed her the pint without saying anything.
"You asked me how I handled my parents' divorce," Paige shrugged.
"W-well forget it. I didn't mean to ---"
"It was hard. I thought we were a happy family, that they had vows, through thick and thin, for better or worse type of shit. I was angry, wondering what could possibly make them decide they weren't meant for each other. They had me for Christ's sake. It hurt to think that one day they'd meet someone new and start over, and what about me if that happens?" Paige took a deep breath before continuing.
"The good thing is, I was able to understand that it's better to have that divorce than to pretend they're still happy. I saw how happy my father is with his new family, happier than he was with my mother... All I'm trying to say is, whatever you feel in your current situation is valid—all the thoughts running in your head, the what-ifs, they're all valid. You'll come to terms with it soon, just give yourself time to feel it. And don't forget, you have us. It sucks to be a divorce child if you don't have siblings. It's okay, Miller. You can mope, you can lash out, feel it all the way."
Y/N burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, surprising Paige, especially considering they were in a parking lot. Y/N didn't know why the floodgates had opened—was it the news of her parents' divorce? The stress of the article? Or perhaps simply the ice cream? Regardless, she found herself releasing all the pent-up emotions.
"Christ, Miller. I didn't expect you to break down right here," Paige panicked, attempting to pacify her, though Y/N continued crying loudly.
Paige gently grabbed her hand, and together they walked towards Y/N's apartment, Y/N still sobbing loudly.
"People will think I made you cry." Paige said shaking her head.
They entered Y/N's apartment, with Paige leading the way as Y/N was too preoccupied at the moment. Paige settled Y/N on her couch and opened the ice cream she had brought. Y/N accepted it and took a spoonful, still teary-eyed.
Paige looked at her friend in disbelief, finding her oddly cute in this vulnerable state, with red, glistening eyes and puffy cheeks from crying.
They sat in silence, letting the ice cream provide comfort. It worked, as Y/N's tears eventually ceased.
"Thank you, Bueckers. I needed that cry and... the ice cream. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/N leaned her head on Paige's shoulder, grateful it was Paige who knew her favorite ice cream flavor.
Paige pretended to ponder the question. "You don't have to. Just get back to being yourself," she said, gently ruffling Y/N's hair. Y/N sighed in contentment.
"I mean it, though. Thank you for being here. I was resigned to being miserable today," Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude. They exchanged glances, and Paige found herself momentarily lost in Y/N's mesmerizing eyes. There was something about them that drew her in. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get too carried away and do something she shouldn't.
"Yeah, it's nothing. Get yourself together, Miller," Paige replied, more to herself than to Y/N, feeling her ears grow warm.
"Are you okay? You seem... red?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige's flushed cheeks.
"Not as red as you are. You look ugly when you cry, Y/N," Paige remarked, trying to lighten the mood.
Y/N stiffened at the comment. This was the first time she had heard Paige address her by her first name. The surprise on Y/N's face caused Paige's brows to furrow.
"What?" Paige asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"Nothing, you've never called me by my name before. Or maybe you did, I just didn't hear you," Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay it. She didn't want to make Paige feel awkward.
"I just don't know what to feel hearing it from you. It sounds different," Y/N admitted.
Paige choked on her response, caught off guard by Y/N's vulnerability. This woman will be the death of her one day. -----------------
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forever-rogue · 3 days
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let me just say i am obsessed with your work and i have a small concept with pre-outbreak!joel that i’d like to share. you’re welcome to develop this as a full fic, a headcanon or even just discuss it.
joel has been dating you for a while, it’s his first serious relationship since sarah’s mom left and needless to say he’s very much in love. but being with you comes with a lot of pressure. as i said, it’s his first real relationship and he tries to be the absolute best partner for you. in the beginning you don’t pay attention to it because what you have is new and of course you do a lot to make it work but as time passes, you realize it’s a bit more serious than that.
he literally drives himself crazy trying to be the perfect partner. to the point where he’s stressing himself out or feeling guilty about things that are either normal or out of his control. for example, let’s say it’s your birthday and he wants to take you to a nice restaurant. you happen to be late (maybe an issue with his car or traffic) and lose the reservation. it’s okay, you assure him it’s fine but he feels terrible and just trying to fix it. in a similar way, if you ever have an argument and you decide to leave to clear your mind, it will bring the worst anxiety out of him. it’s all small things that pile up until you realize that he’s actually terrified he isn’t enough because if he wasn’t enough to make the mother of their child stay, why would you?
you can choose how you work it out so he feels more secure in the relationship or tell me what you think of this, i’d love to hear your opinion 🙂
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AN | Okay but this is so soft and heartbreaking at the same time. But there is a happy ending! Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.7k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Joel was standing on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet in his hand. He felt like he was shaking and sweating and going to throw up all at once. Needless to say he was nervous. It had been so long since he’d been on a date, let alone a first date. And not just any first date, but a first date with you. 
You, that had almost knocked him over, literally and metaphorically, in the grocery store and left him feeling like a scared teenager. You’d been the one to ask him out, in fact, but he was still somehow convinced that you’d made some kind of mistake or were going to change your mind.
He rocked back and forth on his heels for a few moments as he listened for your footsteps. When he heard you unlock the door and slowly open it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. 
“Joel,” your pretty lips pulled in a big smile as you looked him over, “you’re here!”
“Of course I am,” he replied sweetly, a soft twang to his warm drawl, “did you think I wouldn’t show up?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted sheepishly, your face growing warm, “men are weird sometimes…even more so when it’s a woman asking a man out. But I’m so glad you’re here.”
“You look beautiful,” he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten or how pretty you were. You were wearing a pretty little sundress and that alone was enough to cause his mind to practically spiral; he was just a mere mortal man and even he was not immune to the effect of a sundress. He pulled himself together to hand you the flowers that were still tightly clutched in his hand, “these are for you.”
“They’re lovely,” you took them gently, your fingers brushing against his, “thank you so much. No one’s given me flowers in so long, this is so kind.”
“They reminded me of you, bright and pretty,” maybe he wasn’t totally terrible at this after all.
“Come on in for a moment while I put these in some water,” you moved back inside and motioned for him to follow you. He slowly followed you inside, looking around your humble abode to try and get a good feel for you, “so, have you decided what we’re going to do this evening?”
“I have a few things in mind,” he grinned, a little half smile that made your heart speed up a little bit as you quickly moved to set the flowers into a vase with fresh water, “I can tell you or you can be surprised.”
“Surprise me,” you set the flowers on the counter and looked at him sweetly.
“Surprise it is.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to surprise me a lot, Joel Miller,” you grabbed your purse and he shot you a cheeky little wink, “I look forward to it.”
“Me too, sweetheart, me too.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Joel Miller couldn’t believe his luck. It had been a year, a whole ass year, since the two of you had gone on your first date. That might have been one of the best days of his life, topped only by the birth of his daughter. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and knew that he wanted to ask you to marry him.
But there was still some remaining doubt that kept nagging at the back of his mind.
A part of him was always waiting for you to realize that he didn’t deserve you and to leave. Not that you’d done anything to ever suggest that was going to happen but still. He thought about it…a lot. He’d felt like a complete failure when his wife had left him and their daughter when she was only a few months old without so much as a proper explanation. If the woman he’d loved and married, the mother of his daughter, didn't want anything to do with him, why would anyone else? And what did he have to offer anyway? Nothing. Not in his mind anyway. 
And he loved you, so much. He would do anything to keep you in his life. So he threw himself into everything he did; he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you, even if it all but killed him. 
You appreciated everything he did for you, so much and all the things he did were definitely not lost on you. At first it didn’t really hit you just how much he was driven to perfection until you started to see some of the cracks in the facade. 
It happened one night when you were over at Joel’s house for dinner with him, Sarah, and Tommy that you noticed something was off. Joel had seemed so tense and distracted since you’d arrived. You’d made it to the Miller household a little earlier than you had initially told them in order to help finish up dinner and get everything set up. 
Sarah had answered the door and let you in with a big hug before you made your way into the kitchen. You adored the girl, and her father, and you were happy that she seemed to like you too. You weren’t trying to force your way into her life, but let her welcome you at her own pace. It had only been her and Joel for pretty much her entire life so you were sure that this was a whole new world for her too. 
“Hi baby,” you grinned as you walked into the kitchen, setting down the desserts you’d brought. Joel turned around and his entire face dropped when he realized it was you. Ouch. That managed to sting a little bit, “everything alright?”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he looked at his watch and ran a hand through his messy hair, “for almost another hour!”
“I finished earlier than I thought at work,” you shrugged lightly, “and thought I’d come over to help. I didn’t think it was a big deal…I can go if that’s better?”
“No - no,” he insisted softly, “no, I’m glad you’re here, it’s just that nothing’s ready. It’s not set for you yet.”
“You don’t have to do all the work silly man,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “let me help. I’m more than happy to - I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you whispered as you decided to hug him; he looked like he could use a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly to his broad frame, “just let me know what I can do to help, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, allowing himself a moment to bury his face in your neck and to breathe your warm scent in. When he pulled back, you kissed him sweetly, “okay.”
Once you had everything squared away and ready, Joel ran upstairs to shower and change, leaving you and Sarah to set the table. She looked at you for a moment before quietly saying, “he really likes you, you know?”
“I do,” you smiled softly, “I really like him too.” 
“He’s never been with anyone since I was born,” she scooted over to you so there wasn’t a chance for Joel to overhear, “I don’t even remember my mom; she just up and left when I was a baby. But I’ve always had my dad. And it’s nice to see him happy ‘cause he deserves it.”
“Oh,” your expression softened, “he told me it’s been the two of you but never went into what happened.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. I never had the chance to know my mom so it never really bothered me. But I know my dad really likes you, he’s been so happy lately it’s kinda gross. He’s trying really hard. He just wants you to be happy too.”
“I am really happy, Sarah,” you promised, “and I want your dad to be as well. I love him a lot and you both mean a lot to me.”
“This is too sappy,” she snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes playfully, “but…you mean a lot to me too. Just so you know.”
“Don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep it between us,” you shot her a wink, causing her to giggle softly, “you mean a lot to me too.”
“What are you whispering about, huh?” Joel came back downstairs and into the kitchen, his eyes flitting between the two of you, “planning a mutiny?”
“Duh, old man,” Sarah pushed past him, and Joel raised an eyebrow. 
He was just joking around, mostly, but he was also panicking internally - just mildly but still. It was there. His first thought was that somehow the two of you were talking about him…but not in a flattering way. What if you were telling Sarah you were tired of him? What if you were telling her that you were planning on breaking up with him? What if you told her that -
“Joel?” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He blinked a few times as he snapped back into reality before looking at you, “where’d you go, space cadet?”
“Just zoned out,” he offered you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you insisted, “it’s been a long day, I’m sure tired as well. We’ll call it an early night tonight, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, heart constricting at your gentle nature. You were always so sweet and kind but he still found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop, “sounds good, sweetheart.”
“I love you,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it, “a lot.”
“I love you too,” he hoped you never stopped saying that. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. He was going to try his damndest to keep you in his life forever. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“I can’t believe it,” Joel shook his head as he looked at the maitre’d, “it’s only fifteen minutes! You can’t tell me that you don’t have a table available anymore.”
“I’m sorry sir, the reservation was for 6:30 and we have a ten minute policy for being tardy,” he remained calm but you could see that Joel was only growing more annoyed, “as you can see we’re very busy.”
“I made these reservations three months ago-”
“I’m sorry, sir. That’s our policy,” you put your hand on Joel’s arm and squeezed it gently. He looked at you with a deep frown on his face. 
“It’s alright,” you promised him, voice gentle and soft, “we can go somewhere else, it’s no big deal.”
“Fine,” he huffed after a moment and turned on his heel to leave. You offered the man a small smile as you followed your boyfriend out the door. He immediately started walking to the truck, leaving you to trail after him in his wake, “this is fucking ridiculous.”
You flinched as he slammed his door against the side of the truck, “Joel. I need you to calm down. It’s really not a big deal - I don’t care where we go, I just want to spend time with you.”
“But it’s your birthday,” he hissed, “it should be nice. I had this all planned out and I fucked up and made us lose the reservation.”
“Hey,” you slowly took a step closer to him, “do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect for you,” his shoulders slumped as he looked at you with misty eyes. Clearly there was a lot more going on underneath the surface, “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“W-what?” you looked at him in confusion, wondering where that train of thought had suddenly come from. You reached up and out your hand on his cheek, gently brushing away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks, “why on earth would I leave you? That has never crossed my mind.”
“I want to give you everything, you deserve it but I feel like I can’t give it to you,” he pressed his hand gently onto yours, “sometimes I wonder why you’re with a loser like me.”
“Joel,” he hated, and loved, how gently you always managed to say his name. You always had such a tender way about you, “I have never once thought you were a loser. Never. I love you, silly man, so much. You’re perfect to me - for me. Why would you even think that I would feel like that?”
“I couldn’t even get the mother of my kid to hang around. She up and left and sent divorce papers and left us,” he sighed softly, “sometimes I wonder how long it’ll be before you get tired of me as well.”
“I’m not her. I’m me,” you reminded him gently, “I’m never going to get tired of you. Oh my gosh, you don’t know how much I adore you, do you? Joel, no one has ever been as good and kind to me as you have. I look forward to spending time with you even if its just at home watching a movie. When we’re apart I look forward to seeing you. Not because of things like fancy dinners or grand gestures or whatever - not that I don’t love those - but because I love being around you. It’s because of you, not anything else. We could have nothing but as long I have you, and Sarah, it’s more than enough. It’s everything.”
Joel looked at you, trying to make sure he’d heard everything you’d said correctly and you weren’t about to laugh at him. When he saw the soft smile on your face, the tender way you were looking at him, he knew that you weren’t joking. He nodded slowly, sniffling before whispering, “I love you.”
“I know you do,” you promised, “you’ve never once given me a reason to doubt that. I love you too, Joel.”
“I know,” he reached for your hand, hesitantly and gently, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ve never given me a reason to doubt that either.”
“Good,” you squeezed his hand gently, “I think we’re on the same page, right?”
“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “we are.”
“If you ever have any doubt, just let me know and I’ll remind you just how much I love you. But…does that mean we can go and get dinner? Some McDonalds fries sound amazing right now.”
“You want to go to McDonalds? On your birthday?” That was one of the many things he loved about you - you weren’t pretentious or picky or anything. You were just you. 
“Are you going to go with me?”
“Obviously,” he snorted in amusement, shaking his head fondly at you. 
“Then hell yeah,” you teased, “let’s go and get tons of McDonalds and go home and watch a movie. That sounds perfect.”
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you. He buckled your seatbelt for you before leaning in to kiss you gently, “happy birthday baby.”
“Thank you,” you made sure to steal another kiss from him, “I love you, Joel Miller.”
“I love you. So much.”
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leviathanleva · 2 days
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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader
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Request:
This is kind of a weird req and I want to write something for it eventually but-
Fem! Reader who was frozen but eventually escapes and falls for the Ghoul and they fuck a couple times and for some reason she has symptoms of pregnancy and they're like what the fuck but it just turns out that she was pregnant before she was frozen and the Ghoul's reactions and whatever. Angst or fluff I don't really mind :)
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[MDNI, Angst, Smut, Fluff]
[ I don't usually do requests, but I wanted to help out a friend who believed they wouldn't be able to do justice to this prompt. It's sloppy, not perfect, but time is limited and I have other projects that need my attention so I hope this suffices. ]
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Freedom.
Freedom was sweet.
Freedom was bitter.
Since the moment you’d awoken in that Gods-forsaken cryo pod in that wasting away vault you’d known there was no other path except the path of freedom. Stepping over mummified corpses, fellow vault dwellers you presumed, you’d lead wobbly legs and a pounding heart to the entrance of the vault. It felt like yesterday you’d first set foot in there. In reality, you had no idea how many years had passed, but from the looks of the rusting walls and thick blanket of dust, it had been a while.
You took what you could, stuffing a stray children’s backpack you’d found along your scavenging mission, anything and everything that would be necessary for a journey into a land you used to call home. A small pocket knife was the best you could get and it wasn’t the perfect self-defense tool, but with no other choice there wasn’t much you could do but stuff it in the pocket of your suit and hope for a miracle if you ran into trouble.
And trouble you found.
Since your first step into the bone-dry, scalding hot, merciless wasteland, you’d found trouble in the shape of a deranged group of people hammering at the vault door with makeshift weapons. You might have been able to fight off one of them, you doubted given how dizzy and out-of-touch with reality you were, but there was a slim chance. Three of them though, all large burly men with enough scars to put a military general to shame? No, that was impossible. You ended up a writhing mess on the ground, face pushed into the cracked soil and screaming and kicking as you were being taunted and tied up like a good catch after a successful hunt. Trafficking, cannibalism, organ harvesting, death. A slew of words so vile they made your stomach churn and your eyes bulge out of your skull because who in their right mind said such things to an outnumbered, weak woman who pleaded in a broken voice and had tears staining her cheeks?
Then he appeared, your guardian angel.
A man so grotesque on the outside, so vicious and bitter and terrifying, and yet he was the one who shot your captors down. He was the one who cut your wrists and ankles free and helped you sit up as you heaved and choked and sobbed. He was the one who checked you over despite the visible revulsion on his gaunt face at the sight of your vault suit. He’d dragged you to your feet, forced some sense into you, given you a stern reality check of the world he came from and never really shooed you away when you’d started following him around like a lost pup.
You loved him since that day.
And maybe it wasn’t the good kind of love because he’d used you as a distraction for his enemies more than once and never shared his water with you even if you were on the brink of passing out from dehydration. But he also let you sit close to the fire at night, told you stories of his bounty hunts, taught you how to handle a gun and always kept you in his sights lest someone thought you were up for grabs. He was a cruel man, but he was also a kind man.
You never overstepped. Always following his every order, whether it was to hide, to strip bleeding men of their valuables, or to get him another drink when his feet were kicked high and he couldn’t be bothered to do so himself. Always pliant, always willing, no questions asked because you wanted to live despite the hellhole reality you were thrust in. Maybe that’s why he grew fond of you over time, you didn’t rebel against him and took what he gave you with a whisper of gratitude. A good dog, that’s how he saw you. He slowly softened for you, split your rations evenly when you sat down to eat, thrust the canteen in your hands when he noticed your lips were dry, and smushed his hat over your head when the sun was too awful and you were too delicate to withstand it.
Cooper Howard, that was his name, a man made ghoul by the sheer toxicity of the surface, a man who gave you enough scraps to keep your love for him flourishing but never progressed things beyond a one-sided infatuation.
That is until he was left struggling on the floor of an old abandoned farmhouse, a feral ghoul looming above him and pinning him in place and snapping its jaws at him as foul-smelling, viscous drool dribbled down its chin. His hunting knife was gripped tightly, but between keeping himself from being bitten to shreds and holding one of the ghoul’s hands at bay before it could sink into his side and tear at his gut, he was stuck.
When the shot rang out and the ghoul slumped against him lifelessly, he saw you. Holding his gun as you shook violently, about ready to piss yourself because you’d never killed anything remotely resembling a human in your life, eyes wide and lips trembling and knees buckling. Smoke leisurely rose from the tip of the barrel and as he pushed the corpse off himself you sunk to your arse and burst into a fit of haggard breaths and disturbed whines.
You didn’t resist when he picked you up with alien tenderness, didn’t protest when he stuffed you in an old rickety couch and crushed you beneath his weight with a handful of sweet praises. You didn’t pull away in disgust when his tongue pushed past your lips in search of your own, twirling, dancing, letting words spill without ever being spoken. He wasn’t gentle, since the moment you heard his belt unbuckling he was all pawing hands and chopped curses, fiddling with your clothes until his need became too much to bear and he simply ripped them off. He threw a weak promise to get you new ones, but you couldn't care less at that moment. High-pitched mewls and desperate grunts bounced off the walls as he took you on that couch, rutting into you like a man possessed and gripping onto you so firmly as if you’d come to your senses any moment now and run away from him.
A radstorm raged outside, clashing against the boarded-up windows as the pitter-patter of acid rain poured against the tin roof. You never even noticed, too drunk on the sloppy sounds coming from the slick mess of your conjoined bodies, on the verge of a climax so raw it would surely knock you out. Blunt fingernails sank in your supple thighs, scarred hips slammed into yours as he fucked you dumb into the couch. His mouth never left yours, whether it was to keep himself quiet in case too many loving words escaped or because he craved your taste like a rabid dog did blood, you didn’t know. When your ankles locked around his waist he snarled, whatever self-control he’d managed to scrape by completely dissipating as he drove himself deeper. The tip of his cock snapped against the barrier of your squishy cervix so deliciously and you screamed his name in desperation and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He released one of your hips to slide a hand between your bodies and drag his rough thumb over your swollen clit. Your back arched, eyes rolled back and mouth agape as you bombarded him with barely coherent sentences that he didn’t deserve. He clutched at your hair when you clamped down on him, milking him for everything he had while he rocked out his release with face stuffed in the crook of your neck.
Something in him changed after that night.
It might have been the unfathomably long time without a caring touch or him finally succumbing to the little voices in his head telling him what he held for you wasn’t simply fondness. He took you every chance he got. In a guest house, against the wall of a bar after one too many drinks, bent over on a chewed-up fence after scavenging another farmhouse. He was relentless and you loved that about him. You loved everything about him. Always needy and ready and he couldn’t ask for more because this was the closest he could get to expressing himself when it came to you.
Life was good.
Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
You wince as the needle prickles your skin before retracting back in the Pip-boy. The green screen whirls, loading up and analyzing your blood sample for a full body scan. You give the damn thing a few smacks when it freezes and stutters.
Now really wasn’t the time for technical difficulties.
“You okay?”
Apparently, no matter how hard you had tried to hide your bubbling panic, it was still evident enough for Cooper to notice. He’s looking at you with a hint of suspicion, attention averted from the steaming can of cram he’d been stuffing in his mouth.
“I’m good, no worries.” you muster up a weary smile and instinctively tuck the Pip-boy closer to your stomach.
When the Vault Boy pops up on the screen with all the information available regarding your condition, you tense up. Your fingers hesitate to turn the cog to the main body scan as doubts and confusion and raw, untamable fear chew at your sensitive stomach and tug you slowly towards the gates of insanity.
“Don’t look okay to me.” Cooper straightens from his slouched-over position over the measly fire and sets aside his food before clasping a hand over one of his thighs. “Was wrong? Was I too rough again?” there’s a teasing scowl brightening his usually stoic expression, he scoffs and shakes his head. “I told you t’ smack my shoulder when I get too loose, woman. You never listen.”
You want to cry and laugh, but you do neither.
“That’s not it, Cooper.”
“Then speak for fuck’s sake!” he grumbles and gestures to you with slight agitation.
You pay him no mind, having delved too deep in the premises of your mind on what you were supposed to do if you read that single life-changing word on the scan. With a huff and a mental pat on your back, you turned the cog and opened the main body scan.
“Pregnant.”
It made sense. It explained the morning sickness that you hid, being forced out of your sleep while Cooper snored lightly next to you, and carefully pulling away before rushing to a safe spot where you could empty your stomach without being seen. You never told him, just jammed RadAway after RadAway, hoping it was poisoning or maybe some sort of flu. When the cravings came, you started second-guessing. You never gave into them, throwing caps left and right for a slice of some nearly impossible-to-get delicacy was unthinkable, you had to survive and there was no room for luxury.
You failed to spot the rugged ghoul as he left his seat and crept closer, spurred by your awkward demeanor, until he was kneeling right next to you and silently sharing the sight of the green graph.
“What in the hell…”
You recoiled at his words, at his realization, and tried to cover the Pip-boy with your hand and hide the thunderous revelation of your condition.
He was having none of it.
He smacked your hand away and gripped your forearm so tight you shuddered, bringing it closer to his eyes as his face contorted.
“What the fuck does this mean?” he spits and looks at you with something vile in those whiskey-colored eyes you loved so much.
“I don’t – ” you swallow thickly, crumbling under his gaze and snuffing out the need to rip away from him and run. You meet his stare for a split second before turning away. “ – I haven’t…Not with anyone except you.”
Lightning strikes into his core and he pulls away like bitten by a snake.
“The hell you mean you haven’t fucked anyone ‘cept me?” he stands, intimidating and cold, berating you with just his visage and nothing more. “How the fuck did you get pregnant then?”
“I’ve been with you since the day I left the vault, you know this.” you reach out for him, desperate for some sort of comfort, desperate for him to calm down because you couldn’t mentally take on both him and the news. “Cooper, please.”
He shoots you down with a snarl and a spine-chilling glare.
“Don’t fucken’ touch me.”
He’s pacing, trotting around like a cornered animal, the spurs on his boots clinking, a sickening cacophony that roots you in place and keeps your mouth shut. You don’t know what to say, you’re not a liar, yet you wish this was some twisted joke and you could laugh it off and confirm it wasn’t real.
A hand is rubbing vigorously at his chin as he tries to think, but there’s nothing in his head except that one single word that means so much and makes absolutely no sense.
He knew you weren’t lying, he’d always kept you within arm’s length, there was no way for you to even sneak past him without being noticed.
It still hurt though, the image of you leaving because he was a rotten man who’d struck gold by finding you. He was no good for you, never would be, and it tore him to shreds because he knew all of this and still he kept you by his side and cocked his gun at anyone who tried to step too close.
Why wouldn’t you bed another man when he looked like a walking corpse and acted even worse? Why wouldn’t you ditch him to be with a nice bartender or a good-mannered farmboy who would treat you like a lady should be treated?
Why wouldn’t you cheat him out of the only happiness he had?
“Is not fucking possible, sweetheart.” he finally speaks, faltering at your audible sobs. The idea of you slipping past his fingers to sleep with someone else is pushed to the side by the absolutely pathetic sight of you curled up on the floor and crying.
Ghouls were sterile, all of them, 100%, there was no way for him to knock you up even if he wanted to. But the Pip-boy said otherwise and now he was left questioning the very foundation of his existence.
“I know that.” you sputter through choppy hiccups. “But you’re the only man I’ve been with...It doesn’t make fucking sense.” you clutch at your sides, waterfalls streaming down your cheeks and pooling under your chin, eyes distant and jittery. “What if it’s deformed because of the radiation? Or if it’s not even alive? Or – What am I supposed to do…”
His body moves despite his protests.
He kneels in front of you, encasing you between his thighs, his fingers twitching and rising as he drowns in the long-forgotten feeling of being presented with such news. His hands are shaking and he rests them over your shoulders and pretends he can’t feel his pulse rampaging in his throat.
“What do you wanna do?”
It’s such a simple question, but coming from him under such a premise makes your head spin and your heart stop.
“I – ” you press your forehead against the center of his collarbones, arms protectively curling over your belly because despite not showing there was someone in there. Someone precious. “ – I don’t know…I’d like to – I don’t know.”
You stop and start, cutting off words that you weren’t ready to tell him yet and he wasn’t ready to hear either. But life didn’t care if you were ready or not, things happened, consent or not, and now you were both stuck in a mess you’d unwittingly made all by yourselves. There was always the easy route – find a settlement, get to the doc, have it removed, done deal, easy peasy.
But did you really want that?
It wasn’t just your kid, it was his too and him not saying a word, not even mentioning discarding it made things so much harder.
No, he gave you a choice, he put everything in your hands and he was holding you while you fought a silent battle that would dictate the entirety of your future.
“I think – ”
“ – I ain’t goin’ fucken’ nowhere.” he slices through your hesitation like butter, body rigid and jaw clenched because for once he was trying to be a man and not a monster.
Maybe even a father.
You shatter in his arms like glass and he presses one of his palms against the back of your head while the other circles your waist and brings you closer.
“You’d stay?” you ask with such horror and disbelief that it clutches at his chest and he struggles to breathe. You’re no coward, despite how heavy the air feels, you look up at him and you’re so vulnerable and angelic that he forgets every setback that would come his way. “If I kept it…you’d stay?”
He can’t answer, the words refuse to form, but he holds your gaze with calm stability, a good masquerade to hide a mind that was racing and a heart that was pounding so heavily he felt his entire body pulsing. Instead, he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against your forehead in a voiceless promise.
You suck in a breath like it’s your first and cling to the collar of his coat, disappearing in his form, hiding from the world that was so cruel yet gifted you with something so precious.
The Pip-boy is still lit and waiting, the scan bright and piercing. You skim over it absentmindedly, a simple curious flick, then look again and squint your eyes at the tiny text printed under your pregnancy announcement.
“Four months.”
You’d only been out of cryo for three…
He followed your wide-eyed stare, he was no fool, he could do basic math.
You’d been pregnant before meeting him, before leaving the vault, before the bombs.
You want to puke. You want to rip your skin off and bury yourself alive because for the love of God it couldn’t be just perfect, there had to be some sick underlying thing to ruin everything. It wasn’t his, he was right, ghouls couldn’t have children.
It wasn’t his child.
You look disgusted and utterly pained because the realization makes you mourn at the idea of carrying his baby. You wanted to, you’d give anything for it to be his and not some random bloke you couldn’t even remember the face of. You wanted it to be his…
You search his face for anger or disappointment or anything that would prepare you for what was to come. Why would he stay if the damn thing wasn’t even his? He had his own problems, his mission. You were just an obstacle that had nearly made him believe he was going to be a father and maybe it was his second chance at doing it right.
There was nothing though.
He simply blinked at you, lips parted as he formed a sentence that had you pledge yourself to him for as long as you stood and breathed.
“That don’t change a damn thing.”
Tag list: @bountydroid @v3lv3tf0x @silverose365
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esprei · 1 day
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Can we know more about that dystopia Emmet of yours?
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dystopian!Emmet... my sad little meow meow... my favorite AU Emmet. my pride and joy. he's certainly the most tragic emmet of mine... why? well. his life was torn apart in childhood thanks to Emperor Volo (as a reminder or for those unfamiliar, Emperor Volo is a version of PLA Volo that won at the Temple of Sinnoh and was able to carry out his plan of remaking the world as he saw fit. and subsequently went mad with power. hence where we end up in this AU, where he's built a wonderful, beautiful city in Upper Unova... while Lower Unova is left to the dogs... Houndours...? Herdiers...? either way, Lower Unova suffers while Upper Unova prospers).
his family killed by the Emperor's army, he was left in the home all alone, hiding and terrified but luckily undetected until the leader of the Resistance, Alder, takes him under his wing and essentially becomes his adoptive father. under Alder's leadership, Emmet learns how to fight, how to survive. he becomes hardened by such a rough and tragic turn in his life that by the time he grows up, he's become serious, stern and scrappy. wary and skeptical. while he still IS Emmet, while he still has a smile, it's a more... serious smile. a tighter smile. definitely not as happy of a smile. aside from that, he has his own workshop where he'll make weapons for the Resistance (aka the banded together group of folks seeking to take Emperor Volo down for his tyranny, they battle with the Emperor's army quite a bit), or repair parts for the trains that he works on that help transport supplies that other members have snatched from the upper city or just transport in general. he's also a fan of woodworking! does that often, too :D when he's really upset he'll lock himself away in his workshop and work, work, work away, sometimes just welding or carving away aimlessly (though not reaaally aimless because he ends up making something in the end). bonus little thing of him working in said workshop (btw that's probably Skyla calling his name, she drops off supplies for him that he needs):
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that's quite a bit to read so I'll stop there :D i just wanna say thank you so so much for your interest in him! this emmet really is dear to my heart and i love talking about him (and sorry this answer is so late!)
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lupuslikethewolf · 2 days
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in honour of being promoted to Deputy Stage Manager in my school's theatre department, top gun high school/sixth form au:
Dr Kazansky rules the drama department with an iron fist. always wearing black turtlenecks. never seen without his glasses, his coffee, and his terrifying glare (which earned him the moniker Dr Iceman). do not show up to rehearsals if you don't know your lines. death be upon the poor students who fuck around during tech and dress, because they will find out. he loves the crew tho.
Mr Call-Me-Mav Mitchell is the head of sports. you name it, he's played it, and he could absolutely give you pointers, also, do you want a protein bar with that? it's chocolate flavoured :) even the kids who Hate (capital H) sports love him. he is sunshine and adrenaline in human form. endless energy. no one knows why he is called maverick, but even the principal does it, so.
Mr Kerner is the principal. he is also the only person who can interrupt rehearsals and survive. dr kazansky loves him. inexplicably, maverick hates him. nough said.
Jake Seresin is the school's golden child, not even because he's Kazansky's nephew. he’s head boy. he’s on the school’s football/rugby team. he writes regular articles for the internal magazines. and this year, he’s playing Orpheus in the school’s production of Hadestown. everyone thinks it’s nepotism. it is and it’s not, jake just lost a bet to his Uncle Tom, and must now reap the consequences to said uncle’s delight.
Bradley Bradshaw has been stage crew since he was thirteen and an overworked runner, thank you very much. it’s his final show, he’s the DSM, and if fucking seresin ruins this for him, he will riot. dr kazansky should never let that happen. however, this is the same man who, last year, laughed when revealing that a screen on stage had turned off and bradley had to go on stage during the show to fix it. hm. maybe bradley should have re-thought his life choices. also: the turntable. the goddamn turntable.
other characters include: phoenix as eurydice, bob doing lighting, payback and fanboy as ASMs who flirt over the comms to everyones misery, cyclone as another drama teacher/stage manager,
maverick keeps turning up to rehearsals and trying to help because his favourite (cough only cough) godson and his favourite player are both interested in this stuff, so he should at least try, right? kazansky hates it until he doesn’t. kerner thinks it’s all fucking hilarious. bradley is embarrassed but its kinda endearing do NOT tell him i said that.
kazansky and maverick both bare witness to A Moment between their respective pseudo sons and decide the two simply must get together for their sakes and also so they never inflict that on another person ever.
bradley and jake both bare witness to A Moment between their respective pseudo fathers and decide the two simply must get together for their sakes and also so they never inflict that on another person ever.
kerner is cackling. Cackling.
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dragengyrr · 2 days
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Dealbreaker
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I found a fic "The Last Bus Stop in Hell, Now Boarding" by @prince-liest and… well, some scenes just stuck around in my head (read: tormented my artistic brain) long enough to get me down to sketching them out. Then a few hours, a few brushes and a few different colouring experiments later, it was no longer barely a sketch, at the expense of actual lunch... Oh well.
For those who haven’t read it (spoiler free), Angel and Alastor got their bodies swapped involuntarily, and the horrendous expression on Angel’s face belongs respectfully to Alastor.
Now, bear with me, because I’ve been overthinking this scene the whole time I was drawing it – Angel made a promise to Alastor, but one that is much more of a gesture of reassurance and what-happened-will-always-remain-in-this-room kind than anything resembling actual deal. And then, mere moments later, Angel realises that helping Al AND keeping the promise is impossible, so he dismisses the fact that he even said anything, and just jumps right onto the helping part, because he knows that that’s best thing to do for a friend. But Alastor doesn’t share that view – maybe it’s a mix of trauma, shame and the loss of control over almost anything, but he doesn’t think clearly at this point – normally, he’d sooner or later agree with Angel. But not there, not then – he’d rather expect the impossible to happen, and rage when it doesn’t.
And there’s the interesting choice of words – he could’ve called Angel anything at this point, we know how rich Alastor’s vocabulary is – but the word he chose was dealbreaker. Maybe, just maybe, from a perspective of hellish overlord, a sinner that twists and turns in an attempt to get rid of their contract is nothing less than pathetic, but what if the deal was only verbal, no signing, no contract, just "trust"… There are probably no other beings in Hell that, ironically, have less trust in somebody’s WORDS than the overlords, knowing what extremes the sinners are willing to go to just to squeeze their way out of a sticky situation. Also, one can only become a dealbreaker exactly in that scenario, when nothing was set in stone.
For Alastor, dealbreaker is a knife in the back. The worst kind of liar. The very being that reminds him so painfully that trust doesn’t exist without force applied to it by a binding contract, which, if you think about it, is a paradox. Dealbreakers are the reason he distances himself from everyone.
And here’s the sugar on the cream (pun intended): Angel is only trying to HELP. What a beautiful tragedy.
To end this little overthinking session: it’s been a long while since I’ve read anything that would make me genuinely terrified, and it’s even more amazing that it began as something quite hilarious. Do mind though that the topic is HEAVY, to say the least.
I can’t say I’ve read a lot of Hazbin fics, but so far Princeliest writes Alastor probably the closest to his original character, which I love. Please, keep up the good work!
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graybby · 2 days
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Awkward encounter
Lando Norris X Russell!reader
The F1 drivers twitch streamer sister series !
Part 1 / Part 2 here 1196 words
sorry for the wait guys <3
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As much as Y/N would post on social media and perform to her twitch audience, she would be lying if she said that walking around the bustling crowds of F1 fans at the Aussie grand prix wasn’t terrifying her to her core. She was never one for big crowds - one of the reasons her older brother had only recently managed to convince her to attend his races this year with a lot of guilt tripping. Y/N didn’t help herself though, trying to conceal her identity constantly around her brother's fans when in his company had been grating on her over the years - especially with his rise in fame since joining Mercedes. She began finding it impossible to relax when in public with George, making her a partial recluse - much to her brother's disappointment. George understood why she wanted to hide her relation to him, but the wedge it started making between the two as she grew a larger fanbase irked him - he could tell it was bothering her too as her anxieties grew with it. Y/N loved her job streaming but sometimes doubted herself on whether it was the right choice for her - she found being in the public domain a constant surveillance, her every step taken outside her home found being criticised online. Imagining how much more intense the gaze on her would be if they knew the truth of her identity sent a chill down her spine. 
Despite this, the guilt of never being there in person to support her brother made her feel awful, eventually agreeing to Georges persistent begging to join him for a couple of the races on the 2024 calendar (as long as he helped conceal her identity). This left her to hide away inside the Mercedes hospitality out of view of any nearby cameras wrapped in a hoodie and sunglasses, anyone who asked about her was met with the reply that she was just a family friend who had never seen a race and wanted to finally enjoy one. The only people that actually knew her true identity being Toto and Lewis, George knew he could trust the two of them with this information. 
Out of sheer stupidity Y/N believed the hoodie and sunglasses combo that she wore in Saudi Arabia would continue to work in the blistering Australian heat. To her dismay she found herself sticking to the inside of her jumper, having to peel the fabric away from her skin as she made her way out of the bathroom that she had attempted to find some solace in by spending five minutes splashing cold water into her face. Unfortunately the bathroom was located a long way out from the Mercedes area, the more steps she took out the bathroom she could feel herself growing faint still being overwhelmed by the heat. Finding a close by wall to lean against as she tried to regain her composure as her body grew tired all to quick, Y/N found herself tearing haphazardly at the her hoodie to gain some relief - glasses clattering to the floor as the fabric passed over her head falling beside them to her feet. Her legs screaming out as she slid down the wall crouching into a ball in her fatigued state.
I’m so fucking stupid why did I think this could work today - annoying fucking sun.
Mentally cursing the weather and her own brain Y/N failed to notice the man approaching her - face full of concern for the young girl in front of him face pale and sickly. 
“Y/N?” 
She looks up - You’ve gotta be kidding me. 
 “Y/N what the fuck are you doing on the floor - you look like shit, what happened?” 
“oh thanks prince charming, can you help me up I need to get back to George - I can’t be seen out here” she asks, eyes pleading. 
“I didn’t mean- yeah-no-sure, of course here” 
“Thanks Lando” Y/N breathes out shakily as she takes his outstretched hand. 
This is utterly embarrassing 
“I'm sorry this is how we’re meeting” Y/N remarks as he bends down to grab the items she had dropped onto the floor.
“I’m just glad I was the one to find you, what happened?”
“I think I overheated, I was wearing my hoodie- I know ‘silly’ but I just wanted to be as incognito as possible. It's frustrating”. 
Lando gives her a sympathetic look as she answers him - not daring to look anywhere but the floor. “Hey I understand, but that could have been dangerous like you nearly passed out over there love '' Lando says as they make it closer to the Mercedes hospitality. Noticing the lack of response, he finds her still staring at  her feet. He sighs and gently moves to face her, tilting her head up, hand cupping her chin softly. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I was lecturing you or anything, but it was scary to find you like that - I’m just worried” Y/N gulps staring back into his eyes as she nods at his words. “No I’m sorry, I was stupid - you don’t need to worry but thank you really Lando” Y/N mustered up the courage to speak, feeling so small under his gaze, his hand still cupping her jaw. 
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Norris?” George growls pulling Y/N behind him in a split second, not liking the image in front of him of the fellow driver’s hands on his younger sister. 
“Hey I was just helping her mate '' Lando tries to defend himself. 
“Didn’t fucking look like it” George snaps back at him. Y/N stumbles back at the sharpness of his voice, pulling her arm out of his grip. “George calm down please, he's only helping me for god's sake, I nearly passed out- he found me!” she retaliated back at him pleading for him to listen and understand. 
“I don’t care Y/N, it didn’t look like that when I saw the two of you -  he's done his ‘job’ he can leave now” George refuted arms crossed in front of himself, still glaring down at Lando who appeared as shocked as Y/N at this outburst. 
Defensively putting his hands up, Lando sighed and turned to walk away - giving Y/N one last apologetic look which she shared mirrored before turning his back and leaving. 
“What the hell was that Y/N? George demands as Y/N’s gaze drops back to the floor. 
“I could ask you the same thing” He only huffs in response before she starts again. “He really was helping me - I collapsed by the bathroom’s, he found me and walked me back - you should thank him for saving your sister, not shout at him!” her voice raising, fed up with his childish behaviour. 
“He had his hands on you, I don't want to see him near you again” 
Y/N turns on her heel and charges past him into the hospitality, refusing to keep up such conversation with George, taking deep breaths to compose herself as she pulls out her phone with shaky hands.
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Way to ruin a moment bro
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thanks for reading <3
taglist: @bicchaan @lauralarsen @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @ssararuffoni @cherry-piee @eviethetheatrefreak @2pagenumb
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The Kumquat (The Surprise, Part 4)
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Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, some references to past sexual trauma (nothing graphic), a Pap smear (aka the WORST medical exam and I will stand by that) Word Count: 1.4k
Summary: It's Emily's first non-local case since finding out you were pregnant, and you're both struggling. Especially because it means she'll have to miss you first prenatal appointment–and the first sound of your baby's heartbeat. Maybe there's still a way to share the moment, though...
Week 10: The Kumquat
Your heart beat wildly as you pulled into the parking lot of the OBGYN’s office. You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and checked your phone. Nothing. You groaned and rubbed your forehead.
You had a hard time with doctors, particularly with gynecologists–a stubborn remnant of past trauma. Emily knew that. Emily knew it was your first appointment and that you’d be scared. She’d wanted to come along; she would have asked all the questions you'd forget.
But duty called. It always did. You’d gotten lucky over the last month since finding out you were pregnant. The BAU hadn’t caught any huge cases and, even the cases they did catch had been local enough that Emily still made it home to you most nights. But, of course, your luck had run out.
You were angry with Emily for leaving, but you knew that was unreasonable. This is what you’d signed up for. Her job was important to her. It was important to you. The fact that she was so passionate about and dedicated to her team and the work they did was one of the things you loved most about her. You were always sad to see her leave and, yes, sometimes frustrated when she had to miss things you’d planned together, but at the end of the day, you knew she loved you, and that was all that mattered.
But this time. This time you were struggling. You tried not to take it out on Emily too much; it wasn’t her fault that your hormones were going wild. You were more everything than usual. More angry at her for leaving, more sad while she was gone, more terrified of going to the doctor.
You glared at your message-less phone for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and texting Emily.
Headed into the OBGYN🤞 I wish you were here. Be safe love 💗
You waited a few minutes with no response, taking a deep breath to swallow your rage. For all you knew, she could be in a bulletproof vest trying to talk down a murderer right now. She loves you, you reminded yourself. If she could be here, she would.
In the office, you were assaulted with the smell of rubbing alcohol and Lysol. You filled out what felt like a full novella of personal and family medical history. When they finally called you back, you felt like a science experiment–poked and prodded and measured. When the doctor pulled out the stirrups, you flinched.
“Is that necessary?” you asked.
She nodded at you. “Sorry. It’s just been long enough since your last Pap smear that I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
You hated it. Hated the whole process, you always did. It was painful and invasive and it made you remember things you’d really rather not remember. Emily usually went with you, to let you squeeze her hand and to whisper that it was okay, you were safe.
You clenched and felt tears prick at your eyes as the cold metal forced its way into you. Hands gripping at the paper covering the seat, you tried your very best to imagine Emily’s voice, her face, the smell of her hair. And you tried not to feel too furious that she wasn’t there. It’s not her fault, you repeated like a mantra.
They took some blood, they asked about running tests to screen for the baby’s health.
“Yes,” you said. “Run all of them.”
“The good news,” the doctor continued, “about these tests is that you also get to find out the gender earlier if that’s something you want.”
You knew you’d need to talk to Emily about it, but part of you didn’t want to know. Emily stubbornly calling the baby he, so sure was she that it was a boy, and you calling the baby she out of pure spite, had become an endearing part of your pregnancy to you. You might just rather be surprised.
“Now for the fun part!” the doctor said, clapping her hands together. “Would you like to try and find the heartbeat?”
Your stomach fluttered with excitement. “Really!? Isn’t it too early?”
“Sometimes we can hear it early with Doppler.”
You nodded vigorously, lifting up your shirt. It was the only time in your life you’d voluntarily had a doctor examine you.
She pressed the device to your lower belly, searching for sound. You waited rapt, barely breathing, so scared were you that you’d miss it.
But then: a whooshing sound and a quick, urgent, pattering heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. You grinned wide.
“That’s her?” you asked, giddy.
The doctor nodded.
You felt like crying, from pure joy, but also because you wished Emily was here. She would be so sad, so sad, to have missed this. But maybe you could bring the heartbeat to her.
You took out your phone. “Can I record this?” you asked. “I want to send it to my wife.”
“Of course,” the doctor said.
You pressed the record button on your Voice Memos, and recorded a good thirty seconds of the baby’s heartbeat, knowing that Emily would listen to it again and again and again.
When you finally left the office, proud of yourself, you hopped in the car and checked your phone. Still nothing. You sent off another text to Emily.
Must be a hard day. ❤️Here’s something to cheer you up! 👶🏻🫀I miss you. Call when you can.
Later that night, as you lay in bed reading, your phone started buzzing. You smiled wide. Emily.
“Good evening, Agent Prentiss,” you joked.
“The heartbeat!” she squealed, so loud you had to hold the phone away from your ear.
You grinned and gushed. “Isn’t it the most beautiful heartbeat you’ve ever heard!?”
“Yes! After yours, of course.”
“Wow, you’re laying it on thick.”
“I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Emily sounded genuinely sad. “Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
“It’s okay,” you said, most of your anger dissipating the moment the words I’m sorry left her mouth.
“It’s not okay. I should’ve been there. You hate going to the doctor, and it’s our baby. It’ll get easier after we tell my team. Then I can take a step back.”
“It’s really okay, Em.”
She sighed, and you could tell there was nothing you could say that would alleviate her guilt. She’d carry it with her until she was home again, until she could scoop you up and hold you and take care of you the way she wanted to.
“Was everything okay? With you and Little Kumquat?”
“Kumquat looks good. Healthy as a horse. I–” You thought about the Pap smear, the taste of metal seeping into your mouth. “I’m okay, too.”
“You’re lying.” Emily’s voice shifted, now deep and concerned. “Y/N, what happened?”
“I’m not lying!” Sometimes you really hated being married to a profiler.
Emily grew more panicked. “Is something wrong? Honey, do I need to come home?”
“No! Em, it’s just…” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “They had to do a Pap smear.”
The line was quiet for a moment before Emily spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you answered, shaky, afraid if you tried to say more you might start crying.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I know how hard those are for you.”
You stayed quiet, willing yourself not to cry. Emily felt guilty enough; you crying would make it ten times worse.
“Listen, I’m at a hotel tonight, okay? I’ll have my phone by me all night. I know sometimes you get nightmares after, so just call me if you wake up, okay?”
“Emily, you don’t have to do that,” you said softly. “You need sleep.”
“I won’t sleep one wink if I’m worried about you all night, so promise me you’ll call.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Thank you. Ugh, Rossi’s waving me over. I gotta go, but I love you so much, and I miss you every second, and I can’t wait to get home to you.” 
“I love you, too.”
You slept with your phone on the pillow next to you that night, and it wasn’t the same as having Emily there, especially when you woke up gasping in a cold sweat. But her voice lulling you back to sleep was pretty close, and you were so, so glad to have her–even from far away.
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envysparkler · 3 days
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Jason might’ve mentioned a passing interest in meeting Robin—the old Robin, because he was going to be the new Robin, only judging from the low, furious conversation and the death glares, Bruce hadn’t exactly mentioned that to Nightwing—but he wasn’t expecting Bruce to leave him alone with the guy.
“Justice League emergency,” Bruce had interrupted, cutting off Dick’s half-hearted tour of the parts of the Cave Jason hadn’t explored, and disappeared through a zeta tube with a simple behave for Jason and a growled watch over him for Dick.  Leaving Jason with the guy that spent the entire visit seething in unconcealed distaste.
Alfred wasn’t home, he had left on one of his rare days off, or perhaps he was aware of the cloud of tension that formed whenever Dick and Bruce got too close to each other, and Jason understood that heroes and emergencies were a part of life, but he didn’t enjoy that that meant that Jason and Dick were left alone in the abruptly resoundingly empty Cave.
“Right,” Dick muttered, not quite under his breath, “I don’t know why I ever expect anything different.”  The bitterness was palpable.  “Two and half goddamn hours, and he leaves to space.”
Jason shrunk back slightly.  It had been clear from the start that this visit was not for him, and his desire to meeting the original Robin had fast dwindled in favor of getting out of ground zero before Bruce and Dick actually started yelling.
Dick blew out a sharp breath and turned on his heel, suddenly enough that Jason flinched.  Dick froze, staring at him like he’d forgotten that Jason existed.  Jason couldn’t read the expression on his face, and didn’t think he wanted to.
“Jason,” Dick said, carefully pronouncing his name.  His blue eyes were sharp and cold.  “So.  New Robin, huh.”  His face stretched into a smile that looked warm for all that it was plastic.
“Yup,” Jason said, inching back another step.  “Uh, it was nice to meet you.  I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Where are you going?”  Perfectly level, calm and even, but it still forced a chill down his spine.
Jason had been terrified of Batman, but terrified in the way he was of shadows and ghosts.  Abstract.  Not real.  Once Batman had proved himself to be human, all that was left was a man—large and trained and dangerous, but who got scolded by his butler and forgot to put on matching socks and bought Jason a stepstool to reach the books on the tallest shelves.
Bruce wasn’t scary.
Not the way that Richard Grayson seemed to be.  Quicksilver manipulation of his expressions, smiling when he didn’t mean it, and cold, cold eyes—Jason wasn’t reminded of monsters or demons.  He was reminded of the gang members that watched him ducking into alleys with just a little too much intent, the narrowed eyes of his mother’s dealer, the bright, fake smiles that marked the cops he had to run from.
And Jason was here with him, all alone.  Robin—Nightwing—trained and dangerous and currently looking at Jason like he wanted to leave him in pieces for Bruce to find.
Jason had read a book with facts about robins just last week.  Robins are territorial birds, and disputes can get physical.  Fights to the death often occur.
“Upstairs?”  Jason hated the way it turned into a question.  “I was reading a book, and—um, I wanted to finish it?”
“We haven’t finished our tour,” Dick said, and Jason had preferred the low-voiced hiss to the casual neutrality.  “Come on, there’s lots of cool stuff here I bet Bruce hasn’t shown you yet.”
Jason dithered in place, casting a glance at the stairs—Dick was already walking away, heading for the back of the Cave—but as much as common sense was shrieking at him to stay away, go upstairs, don’t stay down in the dimly lit cave with the guy that hates you, Jason was still the kid that looked at the Batmobile and decided to steal some tires.
“Fine,” Jason said, hurrying up to match Dick’s pace.  “But I don’t know what you can show me that Bruce hasn’t already.”
“Oh,” Dick’s expression twitched, something flashing for a second, “You’d be surprised.”
~#~
Jason, mouth agape and neck protesting as he stared up at the acrobatics equipment, was speechless.  Dick was breathless and flushed and grinning widely, and fuck, this was what Jason had wanted to see.  Not Bruce’s sulky other son, or the cold, dangerous Nightwing, but Robin.
“Bruce showed you that yet?” Dick teased, calling down to him from where he was swinging upside down from the ring.
“How do you do that?” Jason breathed out, too amazed to feign at disinterest.  Dick had moved like he was an actual fucking bird, like gravity was for lesser things.
“Practice,” Dick laughed, flipping off from the ring and flopping down on the safety net.  Even across the rope, he was all fluidity and grace, flipping once more before he reached the ground.
“Bullshit,” Jason rebutted, looking up at the silks and the ropes and the swings, the scaffolding, the way Dick flew—“Tell me the truth. You’re a meta, aren’t you.”
Dick laughed again, bright and twinkling.  He looked much happier than the sullen teenager that had met Bruce’s hesitant hope with a scowl.  “Nope, just practice.  Grew up in the circus.  I could fly before I could run.”
“That’s so cool,” Jason said, looking back up at the scaffolding.  “Can you teach me how to do that?”  Flying through the air, spinning and flipping without a care in the world, unbound by physical constraints…it sounded like the best thing in the world.  It sounded like freedom.
It took him too long to realize that Dick hadn’t responded.  He turned towards the older boy and saw Dick stock still, expression frozen in a pinched grimace.  When he saw Jason staring at him, he turned away.  “Sure,” Dick said, in a voice that wasn’t even remotely believable, and Jason flushed at the reminder that Dick didn’t want him here.  “Maybe later.  You need a lot of training first.  How about you show me what Bruce is teaching you so far?”
There was a bite to the words, and Jason had too much of Gotham in him to not respond to the challenge.  “Was that an offer to kick your ass?” Jason retorted, stalking past Dick and towards the sparring area.  Need a lot of training first.  Well, while perfect Richard Grayson had been growing up in the goddamn circus, Jason had been living on the streets.  He knew how to fight.  “I’m ready when you are, Dick.”
That cold smile was back, like Dick was trying to figure out just where he wanted to stick the knife, and Jason thrummed impatiently on the balls of his feet as Dick slowly made his way to the sparring area.
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Hiya!
Love your works, 5 Stars!
Anyway I noticed you did a few Retro!Readers where they are in a Poly with both Vox and Valentino. I loved reading how protective Vox is to the point he'd rather Retro forget seeing him kill for them.
So my ask is in the Poly situation, what happens when Valentino is caught murdering someone who flirted with Retro by Retro? Unlike Vox he can't make Retro forget after all.
If you don't wanna do anything along those lines could you maybe do something else with the three of them, like Vox having to pick Retro up from the Porn Studio. (retro would be taking Val's backup glasses then get mad at what they see i bet)
Thanks!
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“Don’t you dare insult mi pequeño querida ever again,” Valentino growled, looming over one of his workers. They were bloodied and bruised, beaten up, what little clothes they had been wearing were torn and frayed. “First you try to fuck them, then you’re making fun of their beautiful little ears? Asqueroso.”
I knocked hesitantly on the room he was in. “Valentino?” I asked, opening the door slightly. “Someone said you’d be in here, I don’t mean to interrupt, I just-”
He didn’t notice me. “Keep your desperate hands to yourself, bitch,” Valentino said to the worker, raising his hand to strike them again. “Or I’ll-”
“Val?” I asked, now standing in the middle of the doorway, the door ajar, light from the hallway spilling in. “What are you…?”
“Oh! Oh shit,” he said, snapping his attention towards me. “Fuck! You weren’t meant to- fuck, just look away for a moment, mi cariño.” He walked over and spun me around so I’d be facing away from the sight before me.
“Val! Hey, what are you doing?” I protested, trying to look back at the terrified worker. “Are they okay? Do they need help?”
“No! No, I was just teaching them a little lesson was all,” he said quickly, trying to steer me away from the room. “Clean yourself up,” he hissed to the worker, walking me out the door with me in tow. “Fuck. It’s normal, okay? They just needed to be put in their place. God, you weren’t- you weren’t supposed to see that.” He muttered under his breath, covering my eyes as he brought me to his office. “Vox was right, I shouldn’t have brought you here…”
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said quietly, nervously. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine.” I was still trying to process what I’d just seen. All I could register was that someone was hurt, he was worried, and that I wasn’t supposed to be there.
“No it’s not, mi amorosa,” he said quietly. He sat me down and paced nervously around the room. He picked up the phone several times, before setting it down. “Fuck.”
“Val, seriously,” I said softly. I stood up and took his hand in mine. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful… I don’t- I don’t know what you were-”
“That’s it!” Val said, snapping his fingers. He seemed to relax. He kept his hand in mine and brought me to his desk. “It’ll be okay, my love, I promise.”
“Promise? Promise what?” I asked, confused. He set me in his lap and held me carefully, gently. I watched as he took out a cigarette and I sighed, thinking he was just going to stress smoke again. “Val, you know I don’t have… I’ve not built up a tolerance to it like Vox or Vel, I’ll need to leave if you start.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” he said with a smile, lighting it up. “Trust me, darling.”
“But-” my protest was cut off as he kissed me. I relented and kissed him back. When he pulled away, I felt so much more… relaxed. “Hm…?”
“That’s right, just relax,” he purred. He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly in my face. I couldn’t help but breathe it in. Sickly sweet, like honey, utterly overwhelming.
“Mm..” I mumbled, my body relaxing completely. My mind was all hazy, I couldn’t think straight. It felt so nice, so good. I found myself leaning closer to him, wanting to get as much as possible every time he blew another cloud of smoke towards me. He held me tightly, firmly, so I wouldn’t fall. “I love you…”
He chuckled as I buried my head against his chest, wanting to be near him more than usual. “I love you too,” he said, petting my head gently. All the worry and confusion I’d been feeling seemed to melt away, and as the smoke kept coming, I couldn’t help but begin to feel tired. It felt so nice, so comfortable. So good to be near him, breathing it in.
As my eyes fell shut, Val smiled, excited. It had worked! I was fast asleep against him, drugged out of my mind. I wouldn’t remember a thing. He was so goddamn proud of himself. He scooped me up, whispering sweet nothings in my ear as he carried me outside.
Vox pulled up outside the porn studio to see Valentino holding me. I was limp in his arms like a ragdoll. Vox opened the door and stepped out, slamming the car door shut behind him as he approached. “What the fuck did you do?” He asked Val, his anger evident as he reached for me.
“Relax, I just used my smoke,” Val replied, rolling his eyes. He gave me to Vox, if not reluctantly. “I know you said not to use it, but-”
“Your smoke?” Vox asked, horrified. “Oh my god, they’re out cold! Fuck! How much did you- oh my god are they dead?”
“No! No, fuck- Christ, calm the fuck down, mi cariño,” Valentino said, now a tad annoyed. “They’re a sea bunny demon, they’ll be fine. Any harmful side effects or toxins or whatever are just stored in their system for later use. All my smoke did was make them nice and relaxed.”
“What?” Vox asked. He paused, looking down at me. He thought for a moment. “And you’re sure? They aren’t hurt or anything?”
“Not at all,” Val said with a grin, looking pleased with himself. “Though, I’d appreciate some back up next time. I’ll need you on speed dial if they catch me again. I hate doing this to them…”
“I know,” Vox said with a nod. He opened the car door for the passenger seat and motioned for Val to get in. He did, and Vox set me down next to him, buckling me in. Val made me lean against him, as if I was just sleeping comfortably. “I’ll be there next time.”
“The look on their face…” Val said, sounding guilty as he looked away. He seemed uncomfortable with what he’d done, with how vulnerable he’d made me so easily. “God…”
“I know, Val,” he said softly. He gave him a small kiss, then got in the drivers seat. He sighed and started the car. “I know.”
(Val was going to kill the worker, he was just taking it slow. Now Vox will get dibs on them, since he’s the one who owns Retros soul. He’ll argue that Val already had his chance and fucked it up, so it’s only reasonable that Vox gets a try. Also! Retro can get endlessly drunk but it’ll never have a negative or lasting impact on their health and liver and whatnot. At least that’s how I imagine it.)
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Second Chance Sorcerer Chapter 2
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Summary: After surviving Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in the Shibuya Incident, Nanami finds himself in an unknown realm between life and death. Will he escape?
Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader
A/N: Chapter 2 is here! So we come to the world of the living where reader is grieving Nanami's death. Reader-centric chapter, but Nanami is brought up heavily. Originally made with my OC, to read that version, check out my AO3 account, but it's in Y/n format here.
Banner by the lovely @actuallysaiyan
Search/follow along using #secondchancesorcerer
Chapter 1 | Nanami masterlist
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There’s an incessant knocking at the door and it takes all of your energy to not scream at whoever it is to go away. You felt like someone had hit you with a sledgehammer, your sleep disturbed and restless. Why was everyone so determined to give you company when all you wanted to do was be left alone?
No one understood the hollow feeling in your chest, how you woke up every night screaming, remembering Mahito’s disgusting grin of triumph as he had murdered Nanami in cold blood. How you had begged Nanami to let you take him out of Shibuya station along with Maki, the burns on his body looking so raw and painful. He had fixed you with the same look he would give you when you was hesitating to take a shot at him during hand-to-hand combat training sessions. That stern expression of disapproval, despite his own pain and exhaustion.
“Take Maki-san and leave. I’ll be fine Y/n-san. I can’t leave. Not yet.” And you had been helpless to argue against him. you never could. There was a hypnotic quality to the way Nanami instructed you, said with a finality that you could never disobey. The man had a death wish, you knew that, and you had foolishly believed securing him with a protective charm would drive away the shadow of demise that seemed to hover over him all the time. You should have knocked him unconscious and dragged his ass out with Maki. Shoko was on site. She could have healed him, and he would be here, grieving their other losses instead of…
Your heart constricted painfully, remembering how you had held onto Yuji as hard as you could, your ears bleeding from his hysterical screaming as he swore his revenge on Mahito. Nanami’s loss hung heavily in the air. Although most of the Jujutsu community was more invested in Gojo being sealed, it was Nanami’s death that affected you the most. Nanami your mentor, your dour, unwilling mission partner, your whole heart…now gone. Like he had never existed, no trace of him left. 
“Y/n-san?” The knocking continues and with a snarl, you roll off the bed, your hair a dreadful mess, not caring that you’re still in pajamas, and yank open the door only to see Ino and Yuji standing there, Yuji carrying a takeout container. Your ire washes away only to be replaced by a dull ache as you see them. “Oh. it’s you two.” You slink back to the bed and disappear under the covers.
“We haven’t seen you for two days now Y/n-san.” Ino shuts the door as Yuji sets the takeout container on the table. “You can’t just lock yourself away. We’re a team. Team Nanami, remember?” Ino gives you a wan smile which you don’t have the energy to return. Yuji settles down on a chair and says nothing.
Your heart aches for the boy, so young, a teenager, looking so weary and serious, shouldering the weight of a much older man. “I haven’t been in a mood to see anyone. Everything that happened at Shibuya…I can’t.”
Your voice trembles, threatening to spill out all the unspent grief you’re carrying. You hadn't explicitly told anyone about your feelings for Nanami, believing it was pointless. You were his apprentice after all, a title almost similar to being his student, and it was a boundary you hadn’t been willing to cross. Nanami had helped craft your abilities after all, abilities you had been terrified of using, abilities that had plagued your entire life, that you wished you hadn’t been born with; until he had shown you how to use them for a higher purpose. 
It was an astonishing experience, developing a cursed technique, needing much hands-on instruction. Literally. Nanami would constantly adjust your hands, your stance, and your combat positions, tutting at you impatiently. You had felt like you were in a ballet academy under the care of a rigorous instructor, the type that would raise their student’s arms and chin and adjust their posture using the end of a cane.
He had started you off the same way that Gojo had done for Yuji, by channeling cursed energy into one of Principal Yaga’s creepy cursed dolls. The doll had given you a black eye that day, but you secretly blamed Nanami for that; you had been watching movies as instructed, the doll in your lap when he had come down to check on you. His deep gravelly voice cutting through the room unexpectedly had caused you to yelp, grip loosening on the doll, which had wasted no time in delivering a blow to your eye. 
It was humiliating, feeling like you had failed him on this simple task but he made you nervous. He always gave off an aura of needing perfection and his short, clipped way of giving instruction made you feel inadequate. Everything had been a blur of confusion as you leaned against the sofa, covering your eye and moaning in pain, hearing rapid shuffling footsteps, before Nanami had caught hold of the doll and shoved it into a containment box.
“Let me see.” With your good eye, you saw him leaning over you to check your face. You knew you were blushing but hoped it came off as embarrassment for being punched by the doll rather than the fact that your mentor - your unbelievably attractive mentor- was peering into your face at such close proximity. 
You had slowly removed your hand, the area around the eye swollen and tender. Nanami’s expression was strange, almost like he was trying not to laugh as he delicately laid his fingers at the edges of the starting bruise. “I did warn you not to lose concentration,” he said in an even tone, although it betrayed a wisp of amusement. “Go see Ieiri-San. I’m afraid you’ll be sporting a bruise for a while, but her reverse curse technique will take away the pain so at least you won’t feel it.” 
Your good eye had glared at him reproachfully. “I was doing fine until you startled me. I didn’t even hear you come in. We should put a bell around your neck.”
You thought you saw the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, almost like he was biting back the urge to smile. “Are you under the impression that curses wear bells around their necks, Y/n-San? Because if this is all it takes to startle you…you wouldn’t last a minute on a solo mission.”
His words had brought you back to the reality of the situation, the fuzzy feeling of being near him vanishing in an instant. Always teaching survival tactics, always telling you to run, always putting himself in the line of fire. It had driven you insane, how little self-preservation he had for himself. 
“Isn’t there anything that you would like to live for?” you had asked him one morning as you ate breakfast together before catching the train home, having finished a mission the previous night. He fixed you with a scrutinizing stare, whiskey-colored eyes narrowing as though puzzled by your question. 
“Like what?”
His response left you stumped. Did the man have no aspirations, no dreams, or wishes he wanted to be fulfilled? 
“Like what?” You had parroted back to him, an incredulous look on your face. “There are so many wonderful things about life! Don’t you have a survival bucket list?”
His lip was definitely curling now. Nanami never smiled completely, but the corners of his eyes would crinkle when something amused him, and you could see the lines deepening as he regarded your question, but his tone felt like an adult indulging a child. It was maddeningly patronizing, considering he was just three years older than you, yet he assumed himself to be too mature and aged for such whimsical questions. 
“A survival bucket list?” he practically scoffed. 
“Yes,” you said trying not to lose your patience with him, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know, a list of things you’d like to do if you ever had the time.”
“Do you have one?”
“Of course I have one! Most of us have one! Something to keep us going when all we see is death and destruction on a daily basis.”
The thought seemed to intrigue him but you couldn’t shake off the feeling like you were being snubbed. Which was why you were taken aback when he asked, “What’s on your survival bucket list?”
“Oh ah…” you tried to gather your thoughts as you spoke, not expecting that he would ask you. “Take a tour of Europe. Go on an African safari. Take scuba diving lessons. Try different pastries and sweets from all over the world.” You lists some of your top activities, then frown as Nanami in a rare moment, flashes you a grin, his teeth showing for a brief second before his face returns to its usual stoic state. 
“What?” You had asked almost impatiently. “Is my bucket list funny in some way?”
The blond man shakes his head no before speaking. “It’s not funny at all Y/n-san. I think it’s nice that you have these personal goals.” He says calmly, his voice carrying an unfamiliar lilt you had never heard before. 
Your irritation died down when you realized he hadn’t answered you yet. “Do you have one or not?” 
He looked thoughtfully at you before replying. “I used to. But it’s not as great as wanting to learn how to scuba dive or trying all the sweets in the world.” His tone changed into something wistful and nostalgic and it played with your heartstrings as you waited for him to continue. “My survival bucket list, if I can call it that, has only one goal. And that is to live long enough to retire.”
Your breath had caught and you waited for him to say more, hoping he wouldn’t shut off. Nanami rarely ever spoke more than what was necessary, but you longed to see more of this side of him, the parts of him that had nothing to do with sorcery. 
“Retirement isn’t something a lot of sorcerers get to experience. Most of them die young, and the ones that do survive have so many disabilities that doing anything later in life becomes impossible. If life is favorable to me, and I have all my limbs and mental health by that age, I would love to retire and spend the rest of my days in peace.”
“What does peace look like to you?” you had asked him in a hushed voice, feeling ecstatic about finding out these little details about him. 
“A beach, in a country with a low cost of living. Perhaps I’ll live right on the sand, a book in hand, and just take in all the sunshine.” His eyes had taken on a faraway quality, the whiskey color becoming more honeyed, little flecks of gold visible in his irises as though whatever he was thinking of had lit a candle inside him, illuminating his whole being. You could only stare, unable to comprehend how beautiful, how vulnerably human, he looked in that fleeting moment before it vanished behind an impenetrable curtain of indifference. “But that future is a very slim possibility. I don’t like building castles of air.”
The warmth that had settled in your chest dissipated, and you were left with the man you had grown used to; contained, jaded, pessimistic. 
“But what if it does happen?” you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. 
He let out a sound that could have been interpreted as a disbelieving chuckle. “Then I’d better think about using something more solid than air to build my castle.”
“Y/n-san?”
You’re jolted back to reality as Yuji hands you a tissue. You hadn’t even been aware that you were crying, tears rolling down your cheeks, eyes puffy and red.
“I’m sorry guys.” You dabbed at the tears. “Got lost in thought.”
“We all miss him, Y/n-san,” Yuji says comfortingly, but his voice trembles. “He was more than a teacher to all of us.” 
“And we’re still a team despite him being gone,” Ino says assertively and presses the takeout container into your hands. “Eat. You need to.”
you open it to reveal a breakfast sandwich, and although you don’t have much of an appetite, the thoughtfulness of the boys is so sweet that you don’t feel like setting it aside for later. Taking a bite, you try to distract yourself from your own feelings.
“So they weren’t able to recover Gojo from the prison realm?” you ask, trying to get off the topic of their deceased mentor. 
Ino shakes his head no, and you are relieved to see that most of his wounds from his fight with Ogami have healed, almost imperceptible to the eyes of a non-sorcerer, although there was a scar running down the left side of his face now.
“They’re doing a recovery throughout Shibuya station, but it’s mostly to pull items belonging to the people who died. You know, to return to their families.” Ino sighs and rests against the wall of your room. “They haven’t found Nanami-san’s blade yet.”
This bit of information is unexpected, and you look at him, then at Yuji who is also listening intently. 
“I mean…it probably got lost underneath all the rubble, right? It’ll turn up eventually.” You swallow, hoping the weapon wasn’t lost to the destruction of Shibuya Station. 
“I hope so. I’d imagine Nanami-san would want me to have it.” Ino sits down on the edge of your bed. Yuji however, gives him a look of disapproval. 
“Why do you get Nanamin’s weapon? I was his student too.”
“Yeah, but I trained under him the longest. By that right, it should come to me.”
“What if he has family? Wouldn’t it go them?” Yuji countered, trying to think of a reasonable argument for why Ino couldn’t simply lay claim to the blade.
“He didn’t have any family,” you say quietly, not really invested in the conversation. Ino and Yuji continued to debate, their conversation becoming indistinct buzzing to you as you finished your sandwich. 
“He was your teacher too Y/n-san,” Ino interjects suddenly, with a touch of surprise. “Why aren’t you more interested in who his blade goes to?”
“Because I knew how much he hated using it.”
Your words carry an intensity that makes them both quiet down instantly. As powerful and wonderful as his blade was, you knew your mentor’s distaste for using it. To him, it was a means to an end, no different than using a rifle or an axe. He used it for the sake of exorcising curses, but the blade itself carried no personal meaning to him. 
“Nanamin hated his blade?” Yuji asks in a small voice. The disappointment in his eyes had you quickly backpedaling.
“Not the blade itself. I think more so, what it represented for him. A life as a sorcerer. Of facing death every day, knowing this was his duty and he couldn’t escape it.”
Silence follows your words and you wish you hadn’t spoken. You hadn’t meant to put a damper on the boys’ spirits but you couldn't keep quiet either. They were young, in awe of their late teacher who must’ve seemed like a much older man, dispensing wisdom. But knowing how small your age gap was, and how much he hated this line of work, you found yourself compelled to make sure they knew what you knew; that Nanami Kento was a hard-working man, but he never found any joy in using his now legendary weapon at all. 
And unknown to them, You had already scavenged Shibuya Station after the emergency evacuation orders were put through. You hadn’t expected to find much, but somehow, through a stroke of luck, had found his tie, the obnoxiously yellow, polka-dotted tie, peeking through the broken cement and glass, stained with blood. His blood. 
You had yanked it out quickly and stuffed it into your pocket, a little secret you had been carrying around the last few days. It now lay under your pillow; you worried people would judge you for keeping it, for not washing it but somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. At night, you’d run the tie through your fingers, feeling the material slip smoothly through, the faint scent of his cologne still on it. You knew you would never be able to wash it until the last vestiges of that scent faded away. It was the only thing that brought you comfort, that and remembering the day you found out the history of the odd color and print of the tie.
The 4 four of you had been out at the amusement park, Ino and Yuji energetically running around from one ride to the next while you and Nanami had waited in line to grab food for everyone. As you sat waiting for the boys to come back, you had gathered courage and asked him a question that had been in the back of your mind since you became his apprentice.
“Nanami-san?”
“Hmm?” He had turned his focus towards you and you hoped he wouldn’t see the rising color in your cheeks. 
“Why do you wear that tie? It just doesn’t match the rest of your outfit.” You held you breath hoping the question wasn’t too personal. But the tie somehow paradoxically brought his outfit together and also threw it out of style. 
His expression had changed almost imperceptibly. If you hadn’t spent as much time as you did with him, you might not have noticed it. He rested his elbows on the picnic table, as though conflicted to admit what was going through his mind. Then with a sigh, he said, “It’s to remember an old friend.”
“An old friend?”
“A late friend, to be precise.”
Your heart tightened in your chest. A late friend? He had lost someone close to him? 
“It’s a funny story.” Nanami paused as though considering if he should tell you more, then continued. “My favorite show growing up as a child was The Flintstones.” 
You stared at him, but you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you which you suppressed immediately. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to say something like that.”
“Well, it was.” Nanami’s lips had twitched. “And my friend knew this. As a joke, he got me a tie that matched Fred Flintstone’s outfit.” Another pause, another sigh, as though the next part was difficult for him to say. “I never wore it until after his death. Now I always do, in remembrance.”
“I’m so sorry,” you had said in a low voice. “I didn’t mean to bring up such a sad memory for you.”
Nanami shook his head and looked away towards the Ferris wheel, where the boys had disappeared off to. “It was a while ago. I try not to dwell on it for too long.”
“Thank you for telling me,” you’d murmured. His face had softened as he looked at you, the rest of the world blurring from your vision until all that remained in focus was him, the sharp eyes, the high cheekbones, the straight nose, and the chiseled jawline. Barely 30, yet looking like even a few years of sleep wouldn’t wash away the exhaustion that emanated from his bones. 
“Even if Nanami-san disliked his weapon, it’s still useful to have.” Ino and Yuji were back to debating about the blade. 
You were about to reiterate that you wouldn’t fight them over the blade when suddenly a pale sea foam green light began to glow from underneath your pillow. Both the boys stop bickering, awestruck at the sight. With a trembling hand, you move the pillow, revealing the tie, and making Ino and Yuji draw closer in curiosity. The polka dots on the blood-stained tie were glowing, emanating a warm aura accompanied by a curious scent of lingering coffee.
“What…” You watch with fascination, then look up at Yuji and Ino, who are watching the scene unfold, wide-eyed and filled with wonderment.
“Is that Nanamin’s tie?” Yuji gets closer to the bed, unable to take his eyes away.
“Yeah…I’ve been holding onto it.”
“Is it cursed? Did Nanami-san leave some residual cursed energy when he…?” Ino eyes the tie warily but also speaks in a hushed tone of disbelief. 
You shake your head, the aura not feeling sinister to you. Rather, it felt familiar, like you had experienced it before, in those brief moments when Nanami’s eyes would crinkle from amusement…
You gasp and scramble off the bed as the dots begin to lift off the tie, a vignette of sea foam green surrounding each one. They float ethereally in the air, then, one by one start floating out of your room. 
“Wait!” Not caring that you’re in pajamas or that you’d been in bed for nearly two days, you chase after the dots, bolting out of the room barefoot, Ino and Yuji hot on your heels. People stared at you as you ran. You knew the group must look quite eccentric, the two boys fully clothed and decent looking, while you looked ratty and deranged, hair flying everywhere as you tracked the dots barefoot, not wanting to lose sight of them. 
Finally, the dots make their way into the large courtyard where Nanami would brief you about upcoming missions. They slow down and the trio halts, panting and out of breath. The light surrounding the polka dots brightens before they start arranging themselves into a fixed pattern, you, Ino, and Yuji watching perplexedly.
“Fred Flintstone”
“What?” Yuji looks bewildered. “Who’s that?”
“Isn’t that a cartoon character?” Ino asks, his generation just shy of the classic cartoons millennials had grown up on. 
You cover your mouth, trying not to jump to conclusions. “The Flintstones…”
Could it be? Was he…? You let out a strangled laugh of disbelief but yet, what else could it be?
“It’s Nanami-san!” you whisper, and as you do, the energy signature from the polka dots seems to envelop you, and you feel every small little detail you have ever memorized about him; the little marks that formed on the bridge of his nose when he took his glasses off after a mission, how he enjoyed a fresh pot of coffee in the morning, that little sigh of satisfaction he’d make after completing his daily crossword puzzle. 
Yuji and Ino look at you incredulously, but you have never been more sure of anything in your life. You look at them in the face, tears in your eyes, not from grief, but at how achingly comforting it was to be bathed in the glow of those polka dots. 
“Nanami-san is alive!” 
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avensthetic · 1 day
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𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐄, 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔
𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 (max feat. huh yun-jin of le sserafim)
let's get married in vegas we don't need guest list i don't wanna think too much let's get matching tattoos i don't wanna think it through baby, I'm so stupid in love book a flight to paris only one way what'd you think about sharing our last name? let's get straight to "i do" i don't wanna think it through baby, I'm so stupid in love
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𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙎 𝙏𝙍𝙐𝙇𝙔
aventurine stood at the doorway, the gloom that hung over him highlighted by the moonlight. his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were clouded with exhaustion, his body slumped with a weariness that went beyond the physical.
the moment he staggered through the familiar doorway, every fiber of your being screamed his name. but the words died in your throat, replaced by a gasp as he collapsed into your arms. his grip was so tight, almost frantic, like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline. for one terrifying moment, you feared you held nothing more than the ghost of the man you loved.
"aventurine," you finally choked out, your voice shaky, "are you okay?"
he made a choked sound that might have been a laugh, but his eyes - usually bright with mischief - held only shadows. "depends. are you going to yell at me?"
anger sparked, bright and hot, but blanked just as quickly under a surge of worry. "are you injured? can i get you something?" you rattled off, tracing the wrinkle of his furrowed brow, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion.
he shook his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his next words were barely a whisper, laced with a familiar vulnerability. "just... hold me for a little while."
you did, sinking to the floor with him, wrapping yourself around his trembling frame. his familiar scent, mixed with sweat and blood, was a harsh reminder of the ordeal he'd endured. he had always shielded you from his true battles, from the real risks he took. now, those risks were undeniable, bleeding out of his usual bravado.
minutes stretched into eternity. you didn't speak, simply held him. gradually, the tension in his body began to ease, replaced by an exhaustion that made him lean all his weight on you. it was then you noticed the subtle tremble in his breathing, the way he kept one hand tucked deliberately behind his back. he always did this when putting up a front, in front of his opponents, sat in front of mountains of chips, cards stacked high, risks in every bet.
high risk, high return. all in. the phrases he always mutter under his breath once irked you. with no regards to his life, it made you fear that he'd one day leave you, that he'd just vanish. masking his fears with his left hand clutched tightly behind his back, aventurine lived life on the edge, unable to put his trust in his luck, much less believe in himself.
"aventurine," you murmured, gently pulling back, "your other hand..."
he stiffened, the usual cockiness abruptly gone. before he could evade your gaze, you captured his wrist, tugging his hand into view. his fingers were clenched - tightly, painfully so. you carefully pried them open, gasping softly at the sight of the simple silver ring nestled in his palm.
"what...?" your voice faltered, a mixture of confusion, joy, and a flicker of hurt. you'd waited so long, endured so much uncertainty, radio silence broken only by his haunting absence.
"marry me," he blurted out, the words raw and unfamiliar. clutched tight within his fist was the simple ring, simple and lacking the usual shallow glamor of diamonds, a silent offering of everything he couldn't yet put into words. "it's another gamble at life, i know," he added, the cocky smirk returning, a fragile shield against the vulnerability he'd just revealed. "but the odds of you saying yes seem pretty damn good..."
"idiot," you said softly, tracing the outline of his trembling fist, "would it kill you to ask me normally?"
mistaking your words for anger and rejection, aventurine flinched. he had pondered over it for a long time, thought of you when he watched you sleep peacefully, and even when he was out facing death. and he realized then while in penacony, that if there was something he can't leave nor let go, it's you. "i...i mean it. marry me, i swear i'm serious. don't let me go, don't leave, i swear i'll-"
"silly," you hushed, a finger on his lips. "don't hide your hand. this isn't one of your big bets, not one where you'd lose, because my answer to you will always be yes."
relief washed over his face, so intense it made your heart ache. his eyes, when he met yours, brimmed with unspoken emotion. he leaned forward, burying his face in your hair.
"i went somewhere so far, somewhere so dark... i nearly didn't make it back," he confessed, voice rough with emotion. you shivered at his tone, the bleak despair etched into his words.
"you came back," you whispered, cupping his face and tilting his chin up. "that's all that matters."
he kissed you then, with a desperation that stole your breath away. it wasn't the soft, playful kisses you were used to. this was raw, desperate, filled with a hunger that took your breath away. his hands sought purchase in your hair, against your skin, as if seeking reassurance you were real, that this wasn't some dream conjured by a lonely, weary mind.
you responded with the same pent-up intensity, fingers tightening in his shirt, needing that tangible proof he was back, he was safe. there'd be time for questions later. for now, just the heady scent of him, the rasp of his breath against your skin, it was enough.
breaking away, he leaned his forehead against yours. "penacony was...." he faltered, the usual confidence in his voice cracking. "you, this..." his gaze swept over you, over the safe haven of his penthouse that you made a home for him to return to, "you kept me going. the thought of you, i held onto it like a lifeline."
tears welled up in your eyes. so many nights spent staring at your ceiling, the deafening silence with his absence driving you insane. you brushed his unruly hair away from his brow, his warmth a reassuring presence.
"i love you kakavasha," you said, the words thick with emotion, "and i'm so, so glad you're home."
he closed his eyes, a kiss pressed to each tear that fell down your face. "you deserve better than this," he murmured, voice barely a whisper.
"i deserve you." you were firm, leaving no room for argument. aventurine...kakavasha — your kakavasha, was many things - reckless, calculating, infuriatingly difficult at times. but he was yours. he's here, he's alive, and he had chosen you. right now, with a ring he slipped into your finger, this was more than enough.
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 - 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - 𝐄𝐍𝐃
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myohmyimanxious · 3 days
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Hazbin Hotel Headcanons bc I'm obsessed xoxo
(Some NSFW is implied/mentioned)
-Husk was there when alastor sold his soul to whomever it was
- He also has no trust is alastor whatsoever like he's terrified of him but he also wouldn't trust him for his life (literally)
- Angel has PTSD
- But he doesn't realise he has it, bc he represses feelings and everything
- Charlie and Angel have a sibling dynamic
- They're pain in the asses for vaggie and husk
- Charlie reminds angel of his sister molly
- He also doesn't really like to celebrate his birthday bc it's not the same without her (unless he's shit-faced drunk and won't remember)
- Vox will make his screen brighter or flicker to get and hold val's attention
- Angel is Husk's lucky charm in gambling moments
- Angel genuinely did love val in the beginning and thought val loved him too
- Whilst Alastor truly does believe that a smile is a both a way to control the situation and hide one's true intentions, his smile is stitched on and he physically cannot remove the stitches as it's part of his deal
- Alastor is colourblind in the same way deer are
- Angel knows what they said about him in Angel court and he plays it off but it really upset him
- Alastor was a serial killer in his life
- He was never caught though
- Alastor plays static when actively trying to ignore someone
- He also plays music for the hotel to dance too, finding that he and Angel enjoyed the same music (bc of the similar time period)
- Husk once got alastor drunk enough to dance with Charlie and taught her how to Charleston dance
- Nifty is like everyone's child. You cannot mess with her
- Nifty will bring bugs to the person she likes most that day (usually alastor)
- Vaggie has threatened angel's life on many occasions
- Those two argue constantly (it's friendly tho)
- Charlie spends a lot of her time breaking up little spats in the hotel
- Charlie has nightmares about the time she saw alastors true demon form
- It made her feel super bad for him too, and she's offered to cut the stitches on his mouth but he refuses
- Lucifer is trying to be a better dad
- It's hard but he is actively trying
- He likes to hand out rubber ducks he's made/painted when people are upset
- Angel has a lot of them, bc he frequently seems to catch Lucifer when he's returning from work
- Lucifer is autistic for sure
- And his ducks are his special interest
- Lowkey he's also smitten by fat nuggets when he meets him
- So much so that when angel is at work lucifer happily offers to feed and look after the lil guy
- Fat nuggets once ate off of alastors plate, and that's the only time it ever happened bc by fucking god did alastor go crazy
- He didn't hurt fat nuggets tho it's okay, he wanted to but angel was like ILL DIE AGAIN BITCH TRY ME MOTHERFUCKER and pulled out some guns
- Angel gives Alastor the tea of what's going down with the Vee's when he gets it
- Mainly bc he hates the Vee's as much as Alastor and also bc Alastor asked him too and he's kinda scared of him
- And also bc it's fucking easy bc Val is a dumb bitch who doesn't know how to be subtle if he tried, Vox thinks so little of Angel that he thinks Angel would be too focused on the sex and Velvette doesn't care much for Angel either
- That's not to say that the Vee's haven't tried to get Angel to be their spy on the inside too, it's just Angel is like nothing to report also I gotta work sorry and just lies to them
- A wannabe patron once was rude to Charlie and lucifer decked them
- Everyone was amazed he had it in him to do it like that bc damn mans was pissed
- Let's just say nobody is rude to Charlie anymore just in case
- Also Charlie is also fucking terrifying when she wants/needs to be
- Someone called Angel a whore and tried to touch him and she went off
- Lucifer had to hold her back
- Fuck with her friends and she will kill you 😊
- Charlie cries at everything (good or bad)
- Vaggie is a real trooper putting up with it
- Angel was like "would you be like that with me if I cried all the time?" To husk, and husk with no hesitation said "fuck no"
- Husk treats Angel like a princess in the streets but a slut in the sheets
- They've deffo fucked behind the bar
- Charlie and Rosie keep in touch
- They have tea parties with Alastor
- Val is scared of Niffty bc she's unpredictable and bc he's not over what happened in the club
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sparkles-rule-4eva · 3 days
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Alrighty! @number-one-shadisper-shipper and I binged the Knuckles series today, so time for thoughts! SPOILER ALERT.
I'll admit the show wasn't perfect. I've seen the negative reviews, and I kinda get where they come from. BUT! I did enjoy this show greatly! And I'm not here to complain. Time for some happy thoughts, y'all! 💙🤩
I think you need to have a love, not just tolerance, for the SCU in order to properly enjoy this show. I do have such, so I had a lot of fun with it.
There were definitely scenes from every episode that had me either squealing, laughing, crying, or flipping out. But my favorite was likely the first episode, because come on, we saw the Wachowski family! Most of them, anyway! While I missed Tom's presence, I was grateful for that comment from Maddie about him being "out of town," so he wasn't just gone for no reason.
The SECOND it showed our three space babies hanging out together in their room?! I SCREAMED. THE BOYS!!!!
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Tails sitting on his bed tinkering with one of his gizmos, Sonic rocking out to music with an air guitar, and Knuckles exercising from one of the ceiling planks. IT'S THEM!!! They're just hanging out, doing their thing, looking oh so much like brothers. And Sonic's narration at the beginning was GOLD. 🤣💙
Even though we didn't get enough of Maddie being a parent, we definitely got a nice chunk for it only lasting part of an episode. Maddie called Knuckles "one of our kids" (that had me SCREECHING). The angry mama vibes were GOLDEN. 🤣 The way she made breakfast for them, the "Boys, breakfast is ready!" I love the normalcy of it! Can't wait to see more in the future! (Her calling to them with "boys" is somehow just the sweetest thing and I'm melting.)
The poor mailman being like "I just wanna go home, man" 🤣
We were right, fellas, Knuckles had no idea what being grounded meant. 🤣 Although the way Sonic piped up with "Oh, I definitely know what it means," has me suspecting that Sonic himself has gotten grounded a decent amount before. 😂
Knuckles trying to talk back, and Maddie going, "ExCUSE ME?!" then just making those tiny, terrifying noises and Sonic being like "Bro don't mess with Mom when she's mad" (okay, he didn't say "mom" and that made me sad, but the mom vibes were 110% there so I'm here for it). 😂 And since Knuckles snuck out and later Wade said, several times, "Aren't you grounded?" seems to confirm that this entire show is basically what Knuckles does when he's grounded. 🤣 Although ... his comment about not being able to be grounded because he had no home made me very sad. 😭
I did not have an issue with so much Wade screentime! Sure, he isn't my favorite SCU character, but I love what this show did with him! I'd already seen his moments in the movies (like nearly shooting Robotnik in the face with an actual handgun). I like how they gave him actual family issues; a dad who abandoned him and his family, a realistic sister, a mom. Bad family memories. Awkward reunions. They could've made it a joke, but they didn't, and I greatly appreciate that. Especially since I've witnessed firsthand how painful family separations can be. 😔
All the emotional talks Wade and Knuckles had caught me off guard in the best way! The way they talked about their different family issues, the way they talked of betrayal from friends, and being left alone, hit way harder than I was prepared for. Especially that talk they had at the burger place in the middle of the night? Oof. Good talk right there.
Also, even though they took a "show don't tell" take with it, I loved how Knuckles relaxed more and more throughout the show. In the beginning, he couldn't rest, he couldn't sit back and have a genuine good time. But the more he hung out with Wade and his family, the more he learned. He learned about music and found "his jam" (that was literally amazing btw). He watched movies with Mrs. Whipple and ate snacks in the hotel room in Reno and watched more movies. He had his teenager moments of rolling his eyes and rebelling, but he was so well portrayed here, I loved it. I felt for him.
Despite the bizarre nature of the episode "Flames of Disaster," (we were cracking up so hard) I'm trying to glean bits of the truth of Knuckles's story from the crazy musical play that Pachacamac put on in Wade's dream. I mean, "Longclaw" and her tribe were there, and ... what the heck was that giant demon thing?! Iblis?! Does our Knuckles Wachowski have an actual history with freaking Iblis?!?! 😱🔥
I was deeply intrigued by the two main antagonists, especially at the implication that G.U.N. did seem to exist before the events of the first movie?! Did it exist, get disbanded after the Maria incident, then get reformed?! My brain is exploding. 🤯 I was even more shocked that they apparently died? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the Wachowski kids don't seem to have much qualms about getting rid of the baddies for good as the game versions do. That was a terrifying phenomenon, what happened with the two rings. 🫣
And then the Buyer getting crushed by the giant glass ball 👀
Although in those last two episodes, I admit I was freaking out and legitimately near tears at Wade's seemingly having to "betray" Knuckles. Before the reveal that all was in good communication, all I could think was how relaxed Knuckles finally seemed, chilling in the hotel room, being excited about whatever Wade wanted to "show" him, questioning whether it was a song, him declaring that he was going to bring his favorite hat, 🥹 all I could think was of their previous discussions about betrayal from friends and family, and when Knuckles called Wade "my friend" right before the elevator doors closed, I just about sobbed. I was like "please, don't let him be betrayed, don't let him have come all this way and relaxed so much only to get 'betrayed' once again by someone he's come to consider a friend." 😭 We heaved a HUGE sigh of relief when it revealed he was aware of the trap the whole time. 😪
Maternal instincts went nuts when he got so badly hurt in that final battle 😭 I literally reached for the screen several times and was right back to almost weeping 🥲 And someone tell me I wasn't the only one noticing the parallel in that scene with Wade standing in front of his unconscious body the way Tom did with Sonic in the first movie. That, PLUS Knuckles's epic comeback, and his retrieval of his own power?!?! EPIC!!!!
The ending was abrupt, sure, but the pure joy on Knuckles's face after everything as he jumped up to high five Wade was just too sweet. 🥹
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So yes, even though I would have loved just a little more, a return to Green Hills, a reunion with Maddie, Sonic, and Tails, I adored this show. It was a wild ride, full of laughs, tears, excited screeching, etc. 💙💛❤️ I don't care what anyone says, nothing will make me hate it.
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luselih · 3 days
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Another new tumblr page! Welcome welcome!
I was wondering your thoughts on some of the Bleach captains with a very petite s/o? Think like… 4’8 - 5’2 , teeny tiny lil things. Someone who “looks” frail at first glance. Is someone smaller their type? Would that factor into any pursuit? 👀 You can go into NSFW territory if you like, but I’d be happy with SFW too!
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summary/ask: bleach captains with tiny/petite s/o! (height around 4’8 to 5’2 feet or 142 cm to 157 cm)
content warnings | manga spoilers!!, separated in sfw/nsfw, sfw- mostly fluff (a little bit of angst) and my personal opinions of them having tiny fem s/o, teasing, kissing and physical affection, mentions of kids and domestic life, i think that’s it for this part, nsfw - so smut of course (minors dni), fem! reader, neutral skin color reader, yapping too much about kinks ,size kink go BRRRRR, oral (receiving), different sex positions, wlw!!, overstimulation, breeding + pregnancy + kids mentioned, mentions after care + more…
a/n - #1 i am actually using tumblr last 3 years but i just recently got back into writing lol and you got my european ass to convert those feet’s and inches to centimeters, 😦 i am like 5’8-9 feet ( around 175 cm-ish tall) so please if i didn’t get a good point in this writing im sorry 😭, didn’t write for old man Yama, sorry not sorry honestly, he’s best grandpa tho <3
#2 also to say i wrote for captains in that picture (before tybw lineup) if you are interested in past/future captains please send me a request! i don’t mind doing them later on~ Toshiro is aged up (grown up/him using his complete bankai)!
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SFW!
Suì-Fēng is interesting one since she is not the tallest one (as tall as 150 cm (4'11")) definitely so she is leaning more into taller or at least average sized ones. However i don’t think she minds someone around her height, they can get each other struggles and solve then like you climbing on her shoulders to get a food from a high cabinet in a kitchen or gets in a tiny space together comfortably, yeah i think she is content with it!
Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi would like to have someone dandy on his side, dressing you up in fancy clothes and accessories. Having you as his dress up doll at home~ (sorry this is dry, i don’t like his characters that much lol)
Retsu (Yachiru) Unohana isn’t that tall either being 159 cm (5'2½") tall but her terrifying aura so there is no one pick on you and definitely not her in entire Seireitei so that’s nice <3 However i see her personal preference is someone taller but she also doesn’t mind having “a puppy” following her in free time ;)
Shinji Hirako, this little shit of a man would tease you till a day you die, picking on you as you are just trying to do your job or just passing by, he would put just get your paperwork and lift it that his lanky ass could reach and stuck his tongue out at you, eventually giving in and giving it back with a playful grin and a kiss on a side of your cheek as a apology, saying he won’t tease you again and then teasing you AGAIN not even an hour later 🤦‍♀️
Byakuya Kuchiki would honestly prefer someone who is tiny imo, that has already been proven right since he was with Hisana who is most likely same size as Rukia so there is no doubt. As a head of a clan he likes the feeling that his dearest could rely on him in anything, call it whatever you want but it brings him a sense of something he lost once and he is not planning to lose it again.
Sajin Komamura is TALLEST one 288 cm (9'5½") so as i said he would be probably more found of someone taller or average sized…however! that’s doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy having you around, in both of his forms he would carry you bridal style at late night hours or when Seireitei is empty so you two could have your time without having a fear of being judged or made fun of because of your appearances.
Shunsui Kyōraku, this man hoe likes every woman. He is a proud women lover. He loves any shape, size and complexion in women, he would absolutely adore having you close to him anywhere, especially in his bed late at night as he brushes your wedding rings together :)
Kensei Muguruma is on a more neutral side since i can see him wanting a tall and strong s/o he can fight and train with, but something in me is telling me that he’s a traditional man, he likes to be needed and wanted, be able to stood out in front of you proud, strong and straight to protect you.
Tōshirō Hitsugaya would finally be relieved that there is another person that is small, he’s so mf tiny that you are just maybe slightly taller than him anyway, in his true bankai form he’s around Byakuya’s height so he just might indulge himself into telling you a slight teasing comment, yeah i think he would like someone tiny to match him-
Kenpachi Zaraki would have a smaller s/o without a need for you to be smaller than an average woman in height, he’s like tall-tall, strong and intimidating compared with every race anyway. However i do have a feeling that he would like to have someone so dandy and small like Yachiru since she is a practically a part of his soul so he is found of tiny and cute things. Since his little Yachiru left ( :( ) you had become one who would sit on his shoulder as you two have to go anywhere, imo he probably wishes that one day if you two had a little kid together that it would be little girl who is his eyes is a little Yachiru who you two take care of, but this one have a little eyes just like yours and he likes that very much <3
Mayuri Kurotsuchi, this is weird one because i can see him not really having a type? He barely likes anyone, yet your tiny ass got underneath his skin and now you are here for him. Following him as you two raise Nemuri together, you 3 now looking like a real family!
Jūshirō Ukitake :( gosh i love him so much, anyway he is so nice with you, since you both are physically not very strong, it would make it easy but he fears he couldn’t protect you in time because of his fragile body :( yeah, can definitely see him with tiny s/o <3
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NSFW!
Suì-Fēng - i think she loves classic scissoring as you two play w each other’s clits, can’t go well with that one and also, just sit on her face when she’s angry and don’t you dare to put only 10 percents of your body weight on her, fucking sit on it like a chair and let her spend her big mouth on a good job between your legs~
Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi - into Dacryphilia, absolutely loves when you get all pretty and dolled up especially in tiny dress, Pretzel Dip or missionary as you cry from overstimulation, looking so ruined and perfect just for him <3
Retsu (Yachiru) Unohana - man, if you haven’t died when she showed a 8 inch strap up your vagina and fucked you like she hate your guts you are good 👍 anyway, she fucking loves when you ride her or when she puts you in a mating press, absolutely filthy as she splits in your mouth you just because. ( she had a secret breeding kink but shush 🤫 don’t say you heard it from me, also i got some trans!Unohana thoughs, anyone interested in hearing it? comment down please!)
Shinji Hirako - he’s such a meanie in bed too ☹️, i mean he would literally yank you back by your ankle and continue giving you head with his pierced tongue, gosh the overstimulation is crazyyyy with him. Absolutely loves snuggling after it and his hand sliding on your side gently as it went to tease your kitty cat AGAIN-
Byakuya Kuchiki - he must be in love w you if he brings you to his bed so missionary or any position where he can see your face and kiss it is a must, he makes love with you and genuinely only fuckes you if he is jealous or mad, probably have a savior kinks/hints of it sometimes + soft kisses down your back as he praises you after 🥹
Sajin Komamura - (human version) when you two have sex he can’t help but to have a need to make you his because of wolf genetics in him so pretzel dip or prone bone are his favorite positions to make your tiny mind mindless as he might just cums inside if you especially in spring 🤭
Shunsui Kyōraku - loves cowgirl/any version of it so he doesn’t have to do too much at least at the start, see you bouncing on top of his cook as it’s tip bullies your cervix is a fever dream, pressing against your lower back or tummy just for your pussy get a death grip on his dick, isn’t fully interested in pulling out so pregnancy is inevitable sooner or later my dear 🫡
Kensei Muguruma - he is a simple man so he goes doggy or full nelson, fucks to fucks and myb slightly into bondage?? absolutely makes you squirt by fingering you, hate sex??? he absolutely demolish your poor pussy if you flirt w Shinji or Rose, he will kiss your forehead after it tho <3
Tōshirō Hitsugaya - (grown up version) doesn’t have that high of a sex drive but he adores you so he indulge into your horny cravings of him, loves spooning or Scissoring (just mlw) so he can kiss your shoulders or forehead as he for sure makes you cum couple of times at end of the night, secretly loves cookwarming but shushhh 🫢
Kenpachi Zaraki - actually fuckes you in every position possible and everywhere you can imagine, loves stand and deliver (The Bicycle position) as he is chocking you while pounding into your tight kitty, your bodies only stability is his arm that you are gripping for dear life and yes, he isn’t pulling out since he say so <3
Mayuri Kurotsuchi - doesn’t have that high of sex drive but he would absolutely make you deepthroath his length if you are bratty enough, probably some doctor/patient roleplay, people of Seireitei are scared to see his genuine smile if they see a little girl with both of your features??
Jūshirō Ukitake - my sweet man can only had cow girl/variations + missionary sex position with you so he doesn’t finish too soon, absolutely PERFECT with his fingers and has a praise kink so absolutely praise the living shit out of him as you make love underneath the moonlight all night long so he can be happy <333
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