#nobody wants to believe a girl for saying anything but kids and a husband matters to her it’s so fucking bleak u get it from white and desis

[ladythornofrivia]

WORK OF ART

Pair: Geto x Reader

Warnings: just plain smut, dirty talk, fingering, tattoo kink, breeding kink, reader and Geto being horny, one night stand to lovers, club, alcohol, Geto being dirty-minded pretty boy. Reader thirsty for Geto. Cunnilingus, Cockwarming. Breathing kink. Sex in Tattoo shop. Birthday Sex. Love at first sight.

a/n: for kinktober! There will be three parts! Hooray!

(Listen to this song)

Night time was the best time to get away from annoying people. More so, your “boyfriend”, who constantly asked you where you're going. Despite your intentions on not telling him, you ignore his insults and back-handed compliments to you.

"You should ignore them, (y/n)," your friend, Angeline, said, touring in Japan. No matter what you do, or say, everyone are just as stubborn. Stupid, even, to not realize their hypocrisy on you.

People who are called as “boyfriend”.

"I can't believe this. But if he goes out, he’s fine with it. He can go whereever and whoever he wants. He doesn't have to notify me. He can be shirtless, and nobody wouldn't insult him. He kept saying things like how he's respectable and shit. But if I make my own plans, he won't let me go anywhere without him or his cousin to take with. They practically volunteer themselves them in and then says they don't remember about them going with me. And it happened last week when I wanted to go to a fancy restaurant by myself, and he didn't want me to go alone and then they volunteer on taking his cousin with me. When I confronted them, they said they weren't there at my birthday, they said that her cousin wasn't there on my birthday, that she's working. They betrayed my wishes, and always lie to me, and always defend then at their wrong choices in life. Why the fuck did I move out so soon?”

"Your soon-to-be family fucking sucks. Losers can't even appreciate you. Well, once you break up with him, I'll take you in with no problem. We can be sisters!"

"Aren't we already sisters?" you teased.

"True. Anyway, just forget about them, we're going at the club! Besides, you look gorgeous in that dress, so don’t waste the effort!”

Looking down on your dress, you felt different. A good kind of different.

(This is the dress)

Eyes widened at your friend's statement.

"Aw come, on, you're good at dancing," she complimented. "If you show off your skills, boys will go to you. Even cute ones--you know the ones that look innocent, but is good in bed."

"You read too much smut," I told her.

"And sometimes, a guy that you'll find, will be able to do anything for you!”

"Not in the club, for starters! We came to have fun, not a marriage ceremony. Besides, I haven’t broke up with him yet."

Angeline pushed you back lightly. "Don't make it sound so bad. Of course we're going to have fun--tons and tons of fun! It's time for a change!"

You nodded. "Enough negativity! I can change my life around!"

Angeline cheered. "Good! That's how an independent woman should think! Damned if you do, damned if you don't. You heart will be set free! Starting tonight!"

~~~

Drinking another liquor, Gojo said, rested his arm on the couch frame, surrounded by ladies, fawning. "Geto, aren't you satisfied you're taking a break from your work?"

Geto, on the other hand, had a shot, uninterested. "I'm glad."

"You don't sound glad," Gojo notified, smirking. "You haven't gotten someone's pussy lately."

Geto choked. "I just want to rest."

"Yeah, rest on someone's pussy."

"Would you stop that? The girls will get the wrong idea."

Gojo shrugged. "I don't think the girls hate it, based on what I've been seeing."

The girls giggled at Geto's reaction.

"Knock it off, Gojo."

"Come on, lighten up. If I was a girl, I'd flirt with you with my blue eyes."

Geto rolled his eyes. "I have to rest for tomorrow. Another client is requesting for a large tattoo on her back."

"What was it?'

"A photo of her husband. Ex husband."

Gojo spat out his drink. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I wish." Geto shook his head. "Though she paid me a hefty amount of cash, so I can't say shit to her."

"Damn, that's dedication for your tattoo shop. Guess I don't have to worry about it anymore. You need to relax. Who knows it'll be fun at the end of the night."

Geto shrugged. "Maybe." Then ate his appetizer, ignoring the girls who try to gain his attention, never minding Gojo, who seems to be doing well with socializing.

~~~

"I'm telling you that this is for your own good. If your stay with your pussy of a “boyfriend”, you're not getting a new dick for tonight."

My eyes paused at Angeline with shock.

"Yeah, if you say it out loud, everyone's going to think I'm desperate."

"(y/n), you have to do this. Staying indoors with him acting as a housewife won’t do you good! Meeting new people is when going outside, sometimes online. Unless if you date someone on virtual mode, then it's weird."

Angeline shoved you slowly, yet gently against your back. "Don't be shy. Show them what you're made of, and someone will notice you. That way, you can move on from your life with your stupid family and relatives who doesn't give a shit about you or remembers a single thing about you."

"Okay, but--"

"No, buts, you have to do this. You have to be more like those Disney princesses who wanted new adventures."

"This isn't Disney, though."

"Still, you get what I mean." Angeline patted your upper arms. "You got this! I'll be here, watching."

You sighed. "Okay, but I want this song to be played in order for me to get started. I know you have to pay the DJ to play the song that people personally like."

"Okay, we'll do that." You friend dragged you and went up to the DJ, requesting the song to play from the Iphone.

"How much?"

"¥14,977," the DJ confirmed.

You took out the wallet to pay, but Angeline already paid.

"Angeline," you began.

"No, I want you to live your life. This is my treat."

"What if I don't get a date?'

"Even if you don't get a date, it's fine."

"But you told me earlier to find someone and fuck them at the end of the night."

"Yeah, I know, but, it doesn't matter now. Whatever the outcome is, all that matters is you being happy away from your “boyfriend”. Even just for tonight. I want you to be happy, far and wide, so that they'll forget about you. I know you're better than them, and I know you can do better than them—even your pussy of a “boyfriend”. Believe in yourself, and never lose sight of your goal, even if it means of cutting them off."

You smiled. "Thanks, Angeline."

"Anytime. Now go have fun," she encouraged.

The DJ played the tune you wanted. All the people on the dance floor stopped, but you we're just getting started.

Super Shy by Newjeans is your favorite song, and you've been practicing dancing the choreography. And that's how you gained confidence, though little by little. At first, you're frightened of making a single mistake, that everyone would laugh, so you pretend that you're inside your room, dancing like no one's watching. In the end, you were giggling, still moving your body.

~~~

"Oh, I never heard that song before," Gojo commented, "Very cheery."

Geto stopped and listened to the beat. "Defintely not from here in Japan."

"Ah, I can probably give you a few reasons why," Gojo said, pointed at you. "She stands out. In fact, too much from the crowd. Can't say it's a bad thing, though. Don't you think so, Suguru?"

Smoking, Suguru said nothing and kept an eye on the dance floor. A girl's movements swiftly clean and sharp with every turn and step. He had never seen a girl who's energetic to do dancing. He has seen girls who dance, but not in a way that you did. The song's rhythm is filled with cheery beat. None of the crowd seemed as cheery as you, but everyone kept watching, your feet insync with music. And by the time it ends, you ended with a smile and a few claps and cheers, but other than that, you left the dance floor and try to search for your friend.

But then another song came on, Jungkook's song, 3D, and you find yourself dancing again. This time, people are jamming in, because everyone knows BTS.

With a finger flicked the cigarette, Suguru stood up, stretching his legs with a groan huffing from his chest.

"Ooh, where you going, Sugee-Woogee?"

Suguru cringed. "I'm heading to the restroom."

Suguru walked ahead and carefully approached the crowd.

"Suguru, that's not where the restroom is," Gojo pointed out.

~~~

When you danced along Jungkook's song, your friend tapped you on the shoulder, rather rapidly.

"Dude," Angeline said. "Dude!"

"What?"

"Dude!"

"What?!"

"I think someone's coming this way!" your friend said with glee.

"Who? I don't see anyone." The crowd is too thick for you to see.

"Have fun," Angeline said in a sing-song voice, waving a farewell. "I'll be at the bar if you need me."

"Dude!" you said in English, whining.

Continue on dancing to a different tune, The Weeknd's song, you felt a large hand slithering around your waist. Then a large bulge grinding against your backside.

When you staggered back, to face who was grasping you, your nealy collapsed on your back; another hand hooked on your back to break your fall, and there you see a man with dark, longish hair with narrowed eyes glinting at you, his lips curved into a small smirk.

"Careful, there, no one wants to see a beautiful princess fall now, don't we?"

A young man gave another subtlety of his smirk.

"Thank you," you uttered, not confident, face covered in blush.

He pulled you right back up. "Don't mention it, princess." Then he did a little waltz with you on the dance floor, treating you with care. "So what does the princess doing here in the club?'

You frowned at that. "Am I not allowed to go to club?"

"You're allowed," he said. "But you look too ravishing compare to the girls I stumbled onto tonight."

Is he serious? you thought to yourself. For all you know, he might have a girlfriend waiting for him. You didn't want to get to a certain point of involving wasted drama.

"You might mind, but I don't."

He hummed. 'Why's that, sweet lady?'

"Your girlfriend might get upset with you if you associate with someone like me. I hate to say this, but it'd be great if you back off. I don't want to get involve with drama.'

He looked at you intently before giving a good laugh. "Oh, you sweet princess. Here's the thing," his lips leaned closer to your ear. "I don't have anyone in my life at the moment."

That doesn't sound convincing enough.

"Ooh, is the little lady doubtful of me?" his voice laced like honey. "You shouldn't be."

'Oh, but I wouldn't count on it.'

'Why's that?'

Your head nudged towards the girls behind Geto, who are sitting at their seats furiously, glaring daggers at you.

'Gojo set me up for a date I didn't like.'

"Date?" You never heard of a guy being set up to a date with numerous girls at the same time.

He nodded. "I was supposed to rest for tonight. My back was hurting for my work. Bending my back down and then stretch it."

'Well, you can go to a chiropractor to adjust your spine. It usually works.'

He hummed. 'I'll keep that mind, princess.' His other hand clung onto your waist and spun your back around for him to grind against you.

'Bet you never have a guy who does it good as me, princess."

You found yourself blushing. 'No one has actually. In fact, I don't even know your name.'

He leaned his face against your locks, inhaling a fainted rose water scent. 'Let's enjoy ourselves for now.'

Despite his claims, you can't help but to look back at the girls the guy used to hang out, are entirely pissed at you. But the guy with white locks and blue eyes gave a toast to you with a smirk.

"Let's go somewhere private," he said into your ear, getting your attention back to a raven-haired man. "What do you say?'

Pondering your gazing look into his eyes before a chance of bestowing him an answer.

~~~

He slammed you against the wall against the bathroom stall in a ladies restroom, kissing and ravishing your neck and collarbone with few licks and nibbles mingling his lips with languid and passionate kisses.

You sighed, clutching his hardened body. "Mhmmm~'

"You like it, princess?” He made sure the restroom's lock so no one can go in. Kisses more on the shoulders, then your neckline until it reaches to your earlobes, tugging it gently with his teeth.

His eyes glinted, examining your flushed skin as you breathed hard, eyes filled with plea.

His hand slid underneath your dress, pressing his fingertips against the nub of your cunt, circling it as it sends a thousand waves crushing against you, soaring with pleasure. Undoing your straps, his tongue and teeth delved and ravished the hardened nipple on your breast with a low moan, fondling the other.

'I'm guessing you have never been touched or have been pleasure by a man.'

Blushing furisouly, you turned your head away, which it lead to him taking your chin and rotated your head, facing him.

'Tell me, princess, and I'll make your dreams come true,' he said into your ear with intent eyes daggered to your sheepish ones.

You gulped. "Fuck me, please." With your hands hung around behind his neck, indicating it gently for him to get closer to you.

Smirking, he lunged his lips and crashed to yours. His slick tongue gained acess to your tongue, his hands clutched the fabric of your underwear, pulling it downward bit by bit. His lips pulled away, looking into the haziness in your eyes.

"Shall I go further, little lady?' his eyes twinkled in anticipation.

Gasping, you held onto his hair. indicating for your thirst to be quenched.

Geto took the initiation of bringing your legs up to his shoulders as he flicks and consumed the taste of you on his tongue, humming in pleasure.

"Ah~" Your head threw back, clutching him tight without fall.

Bucking your hips against his face, your lower body gyrated against him. Large hands steadied you, but with a flick and slurp on his mouth driven you crazy. Your legs enveloped around his head.

He moaned, hands now gripping on your ass and pushed it toward his face closer to a point he wanted to suffocated from your delicious thighs.

"Ah~" your breath ragged, body coldly shivering, shoulders and neck became intensely hot, finding your ragged breath became loudly desperate. "I'm getting close," you said.

His biceps locked your thighs in tighter, his tongue lapped a few more rounds until your walls clenched and drenched his mouth with cum.

As it was over, he settled your legs down carefully. Inclining his head upward, your eyes gazed at the glazed cum you implanted on him. With a smirk, he licked his lips and hummed in satisfaction.

"Taste just as exquisite as you are, princess," he said, getting up on his two feet in haste, and approached you, zipping his pants down, revealing his long and thick cock. Before you could react, he lifted you up, placing your legs on his waist as he pinned you against the wall.

"Hold onto me, princess," he moaned, tugging your earlobe with teeth before he pounded his cock into your hole.

You never had sex before, but you're pretty sure how it works in movies and books compare to real life feels different. Sudden without warning.

But it didn't mean awful in your case. In fact, it felt good and full in your cunt.

Noticing your gasps, his lips curved into a smirk and pounded his cock all the way to your g-spot with a loud grunt, tossing his head back, his moans echoed loudly towards the restroom's ceiling. His hips picked up the pace and pounded twice as rough and rapidly brute. Little by little, your arms weighted with exhaustion, still wrapped behind his neck, as your sloppily kissed with him, tasting yourself from his greedy lips.

"Almost there, princess," he said, breathing onto your mouth, thrusting sloppily yet callously.

"Coming~" you moaned aloud, and his semen spilled onto your hole, filling with hot seed, draining to your inner thighs.

Both of your leaned your foreheads towards each other, pressing with heaving breaths lingering.

His eyes lingered to yours, pressing his lips against yours, almost lax and carefree. He chuckled when saw your flushed expression.

What a cutie, he said.

"That was fun," you said, chuckling.

His long hair swished as he found himself chuckling.

"Tell me something, my princess," he leaned closer. "What is it that you want? From what I can tell, based on you, I can tell you want more than a simple life. What is it that you want, that you truly want?"

Your breath staggered. "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

Heaving, you contemplated; your legs are shaking and leaden, almost as if it was pinned to the ground.

He kept you steady. "Woah, we can't get a break, huh? You're so beautiful, my darling princess, even in this state."

Nuzzling against his chest, you breathed as your cheeks.

You never knew this man, but somehow he made you feel like you're in heaven with him--a solace from your hell.

"You okay, princess?'

"I'm okay. My legs are sore."

"First time sex always get sore," he said, smirking.

"Clearly," you said, giggling.

He kissed you again, caressing your waist with both of his hands. "I want to see you again soon, baby~"

"I want to see you, too, but--"

"But?"

Your eyes saddened. "My boyfriend. They won't let me be as myself around him, and always supervised me everywhere I go; I can't go alone without him, and my friend brought me here. I just want some peace—I was planning on breaking up with him.”

His eyes looked onto you intently. "What do you truly want, princess?'

You said nothing.

"I'll give you anything you want. Just say the word, and you'll have it."

You sighed, looking away for a second. "I don't know..."

"Look at me, my good princess..."

You looked at him, eyes locked with fear.

"Tell me what you wish for, and I'll make all of your dreams come true," he guaranteed. “Put your trust in me.”

"Well, it might sound silly, but I want to have a couple of tattoos. I just want something for myself."

"Ah, a sign of rebellion," he mused, still holding onto your waist, gripping it tight and proud.

Your gaze lowered. "Yeah.."

His finger tucked under your chin for your gaze to be lock onto his in an extension of time. "That's not silly, at all." He fished in his pockets and gave you something, but before he could touch your hand, the restroom doors banged.

"What the fuck?! The door's jammed!"

"I need to pee!"

"We have to get the security to pry this open!"

Then the silence came.

He chuckled. "Guess we better go." He took your hand and unlocked the door.

Quickly, both you and him snuck out of the restroom, but only to be caught by your friend.

"(y/n), where the hell have you been? I've been dying to tell you about this guy I saw, tall and gorgeous with blue eyes, I--"

Suddenly, she both saw you and him together outside of the restroom, put two and two clues together.

Instead of talking, Angeline gave you a subtle smirk. "I'll leave you guys to it..."

She walked away as he placed his arm behind his head, chuckling awkwardly.

"Sorry about her, she wanted me to--"

"I know," he said, then his hand outstretched. laying the paper material onto your hand. "Call me, princess." He gave a soft, loving peck on your cheek. His suppled lips lingered a little longer than you expected.

"Keep in touch. I'll be waiting." He gave a smile before he went back.

But you seized him.

"We don't know each other's names," you said, frantic.

He chortled. “You’re right.” He looked back and leaned his tall height close to your level, his face nearing against yours. “Tell me your name, princess.”

"(y/n)," you said proudly.

Watching his lips curved upward, he said. "Beautiful."

"I don't even know your name," you pointed out.

"It's on the back of the card," he purred into your ear.

"I want to hear it from you," you said, pleading. “Your voice.”

He chuckled. "Since you're a good girl, I'll tell you. My name is Geto Suguru."

Suguru...

Your said boyfriend texted you in a total of 138 messages and phone calls and angry voicemails.

"Your boyfriend is a piece of work," he commented.

"Yeah, he is. I just want to take a break." You shut the phone off. You rushed off to your friend---him following you--and showed her the missed calls and messages from your said boyfriend.

"They're that persistent," Angeline said, rolling her eyes.

"We should go back. My soon-to-be annoying in laws is going to think I got drugged or something," you said.

He took the card from you and tucked it in. And took your phone and dialed the number instead.

"What if my boyfriend discovers you on my phone?"

"There's a landline," he suggested. Call me by this number."

Fear overtook you for a second, numerous scenarios running in your head.

His callous palm lingered onto your skin as he placed it. "Don't be afraid, princess. I'll be waiting for you," he said with a smile before he gave you one last kiss.

But then you said, tugging his sleeve. "May I see your phone?"

Without hesitation, he gave you his phone, and dialed your phone number and added into his contacts, then looking at him back, watching his smile at your sudden move on entering your phone number.

"That's my girl. I'll keep in touch," he said, and walked away back to his seat with his friend, music blasting away as you and Geneva.

Your eardrums banged even after heading outside. Angeline couldn't help you but smirk.

"What?'

"Where did you go, missy?' she teased.

"I was chatting with him," you said.

"Does banging the restroom stalls count as chatting?''

Your face instantly blushed.

"So, how good is he?'

Hands shielded over your face. "Angeline!"

"I'm just kidding! See, I know you'll meet someone. He's been eyeing on you since the dance floor," she cheered and embraced you by the side while ruffling your hair with her fist. "You're becoming a woman, (y/n)," she said, cackling.

Your phone rang again.

"Don't answer it. I'll do the explaining for you," Angeline said.

"No, don't. They're going to suspect we're doing drugs."

"We'll just tell them there's traffic. Japan is a very busy country, after all. Oh yeah," she took out the napkin. "Might want to use this. His cum is spilling out on your legs and heels."

"Don't say stuff like that in public." As you wiped the cum, the wind breezed against your skin and dress. It felt nice and cold, and yet...naked.

"Oh no," you muttered in horror.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I'm not wearing any underwear," you uttered quietly, blushing at the thought of your knight in shining armor, Geto, taking your panties with him.

© kinggetou - all rights reserved.

Taglist: @galactict3a

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #ao3 writer #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #archives of our own #jujutsu geto #getou suguru x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #anime #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #anime fanfic #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #smut #fluff #angst #writing #writers of tumblr #writeblr #self insert #fanfics #ao3feed

[nykie-love-anime]

Day 6 ~ Adopting A Pet

You and Steve decided it is about time you extend your family with a fur baby. Deciding to adopt a golden retriever puppy you could not be happier.

“Come on Steve, can we please get a puppy.” You looked at your husband. Sitting next to him on the bed leaning your head against his shoulder to give him the puppy dog eyes. “Look,” he sighed. “Tony is not going to be happy that we brought a dog into his tower. No matter what he says it is still his tower.” He shake his head as you look up at him with a sad smile. ‘Well if he wants to play that card I will just play the sad daughter card.’ You thought shaking your head to look at your husband. “Look once everything in our house is done maybe we can get then a dog or two.” He smiled but turned his head back towards the tv playing some old war movie.

“But that is still five months away.” You whined out like a little kid not getting their way. “Then we have to pack and unpack and you know what a mission that will be. Then you go back to working with the Avengers and I will be all alone in that big house with nothing to do, with no company to keep me busy and out of trouble, nobody to protect me when my husband is away fighting aliens.” You let out a sigh laying on your side facing away from Steve and a sneaky grin appeared on your face as he laid behind you.

Knowing that you are getting to the man. You cuddle into him feeling his warmth on your back. “Fine we can adopt a puppy. But we have to go to an adoption shelter, I don’t trust these breeders. And I know we can find a perfect addition to our growing family.” He smiled into your neck and you let out a giggle. “That’s good I was already searching last night and this morning. And I found the most adorable little golden retriever puppy.” You grinned turning around to face the man you love.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into this your dad is going to kill me.” Steve whined as you guys parked the car stepping out quickly you can only grin up at him. “Well he has to go through me first and you know when I am happy he will be happy and mom will smack him if I decides to do anything.” You laughed at the look on his face. “Mrs Rogers you are going to be the death of me.” He grinned pulling you towards the entrance.

“Good morning.” You greeted the young boy standing by the door and he just smiled and gawked at Steve before exiting the building. “Hi how can we help you.” The reception lady smiled up at you. “Sorry about my boy he gets super quiet when he is excited but just know he loves your work mister Rogers.” Then she turned to Steve with a small smile. “Thank you ma’am.” He grinned showing his teeth. “Please let him know he can come talk to me, once we are done picking up our pup.”

“Oh yes.” You started. “I made a booking about a week ago. I made the booking under Y/N Rogers.” You grinned at her as she started going through her book. “Ah I have you right here Mrs Rogers. If you would follow me I will show you to your puppy.” She stand calling another lady over, motioning towards you and Steve to follow. “There are five puppies who you can play with for a while then you can decide which one you want to go home along with you guys.”

You and Steve grin at her and she turns towards the door. “If you are done deciding you can bring the little guy or gal upfront and we will get started on the paperwork.” She smiles turning back towards the door and finally exiting. “Oh my goodness look at all these cute faces.” You giggle like a little girl running towards the pups. After about 10 minutes you and Steve decided on a cute female puppy with the fluffiest fur you have ever seen on a dog.

“Okay Mrs Rogers you have an hour to get everything for the puppy. Otherwise I am going to have to come and hunt you down.” He smirked at the offended look on your face which turned to a grin, fast. “I will have you know I will take longer now just because you decided to moan about my shopping.” You smirked at the man as you handed him the puppy. “Please look after my dog so that I can go buy her everything she needs.” You grinned getting out of the car. “Hey it’s my dog too.” He whined out to you and you just giggled.

After an hour of getting everything you need for you pup you exit the store with a trolley with how much you spend. “Again Tony is going to kill all of us.” You hear Steve mutter from behind you will the puppy in his arms. “No he won’t I already talked to my dad and he is fine with us getting a puppy.” You smirked at the man and he look as if you have grown two new heads. “I just wanted to see you sweat for a while. You know what it does to me.” You cackled and Steve shook his head but nonetheless smiling at you.

“Again Mrs Rogers you are going to be the death of me.” He smiles getting into the driver seat handing you the little pup with a smile. “Just know once we get home I am going to have a stern talking to you.” All you could do was giggle excited about what is going to happen to you once you get home. “I love you Stevey.” You kissed his cheek. “I love you Y/N/N even if you are going to drive me to any early grave.” “Yeah, yeah you old man. Just drive I want to get home to show mom and dad our new addition to the family. They are going to be so happy. I showed them pictures last night and they could not be happier with a fur baby joining the family.” You grinned. “So tell me everything you have bought. And will I have to get a second house for everything that you got.” He cackled as you started a rant about everything that you bought was necessary for your little fur baby.

Day 5 | Masterlist | Day 7

#y/n #fluff #reader #female reader #y/n imagines #fem!reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america #avengers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #the avengers #marvel cinematic universe #fluffy june prompts day 6 #reader x steve rogers #adopting a puppy

[treveonwest]

(PowerRuff Part 14) { some new additions}

Okay I'm just letting you guys know that this will be the last part of pre-teen time and the teenager stuff will be a lot more interesting it is going to get a bit NSFW I'm just telling you that right now

Blossom) girls I can't believe it it's going to be are last day being in Ms keane's class

__________________

Buttercup) yeah that woman loves us so much that she even let preteens that should be in Middle School be in this building even though it's not for preschoolers

___________

Bubbles) yeah all she had to do is teach the Middle School people in a different part of the building

______

Buttercup) anyways let's get this over with

Bubbles) good morning Ms Keane

__________________

Ms Keane) good morning girls how is your morning going

___________

Buttercup) I hate how this is going to be our last day seeing you

_______

Ms Keane) well that's what you think

___________

Blossom) what does that mean

_____________

Ms Keane) don't worry about it but I have some announcements today so how about you take your seats

Ms Keane) okay everybody we have some new students and I'm going to introduce to you guys today

_______________

Blossom) new students are always exciting

__________

Buttercup) yeah I wonder if they're going to be any cute girls

Ms Keane) well first things first this is my daughter Isabella just in case you guys didn't know I am single because I recently got a divorce from my husband meaning I am a single parent and I have to raise Isabella by myself and the are not any babysitters I can call at the moment so when I go to work she's just going to have to come with me and you can see that she's just a little little kid honey how about you introduce yourself

Isabella) hi my name is Isabella and I really like drawing and I really like superheroes and comic books or any kind of books do that matter

_______________

Blossom) oooo I like her already

__________

Buttercup) of course you do

Ms Keane) okay now I'm going to introduce the new students your age everyone say hello to Summer and Scarlett

Summer) hello everybody my name is Summer and I'm fabulous I'm perfect I'm pretty and we can probably be really good friends as long as you're not annoying

_____________

Scarlett) hi my name is Scarlett and if you couldn't already tell and don't feel bad almost nobody ever does me and summer are twins she just looks like our dad I look like our mom and I like to draw i like to nit and I'm sorry if I may be talkin a little quiet I'm a little shy

_________

Ms Keane) that's no problem darling but how about you girls take your seats we're about to start class

Summer) hey moron why did you tell everybody that were related

___________________

Scarlett) because we are I don't really see the big issue

____________

Summer) I don't want anybody knowing I'm related to a wannabe stupid loser like you we talked about this on the way here I don't want anybody knowing I know you and don't talk to me

________

Scarlett) okay I'm sorry

2 hours later

Blossom) so Isabella are you enjoying school so far

________________________

Isabella) yeah it's no sweat

____________

Buttercup) now that what I like to hear

________

Bubbles) I just can't get over how cute you are

Mitch) so Buttercup we haven't seen each other in a couple of days and I was thinking how about we go on a date or something

_________________

Buttercup) sorry Mitch but if you haven't seen from all of my social medias I'm a lesbian and not interested in you i wouldn't even date you if you were the last person on Earth

Mitch) I mean I did see that stuff but i thought it was a joke

____________________

Buttercup) a joke the hell is that supposed to mean

_____________

Mitch) Buttercup you seem like the type of girl that just says they're a lesbian so people leave them alone

_____

Buttercup) I don't think I've ever heard somebody say anything that stupid just shut up and get out of my face

________

Mitch) Fine

Quick introduction before I forget

his boy right here is Mitch Mitchelson as you can see he does have a crush on buttercup but the thing is he's a little asshole Mitch is a bully and will go out of his way to pick on you and he's the classic nobody understands me type of boy and he's arrogant to top that all off not a lot of girls in school like him I wonder why🙄🙄🙄

Buttercup) so girls can we just talk about how that summer girl is smokin hot

__________________

Blossom) I don't know I don't really trust her she seems kind of Prissy and full of myself

___________

Bubbles) yeah I don't know if she rubbed me the wrong way her sister seems really nice though

Hot lady) hello Miss Keane I'm here to get my little boy Mitch he has a doctor's appointment

__________________

Miss Keane) oh nice to see you Naomi yeah Mitch is right over there

Naomi) hey Michie we need to go to your doctor's appointment

___________________

Mitch) okay Mom just let me say goodbye to my friends real quick

uttercup) okay Mitch there is no way that hot piece of ass is your mother cuz she looks nothing like you

___________________

Mitch) first of all rude second of all she's my adopted mom now if you'll excuse me I have to go to the doctor miss wannabe dyke

Blossom) I don't understand him like why would you be mean to somebody like

___________________

Buttercup) I have no idea I'm going to get Revenge somehow and i think i have an idea

Buttercup) Hey Summer I was Thinking Your Really Pretty And Maybe We Could Go Out Sometime

_____________________

Summer) Sure *In Her Mind* HOLY CRAP she's a powerpuff girl this could benifit me

Stay tuned to figure out what buttercups Revenge is going to be

The End

#powerpuff girls #powerruff #lgbt #girls #powerpuff blossom #powerpuff buttercup #powerpuff bubbles #the sims #sims 4 lookbook #sims 4 poses #sims 4 mods #TS4 SCREENSHOTS #sims 4 story #sims 4 simblr #sims 4 screenshots #ts4 gameplay #ts4cc #TS4 #ts4 custom content #fanfiction #fanfic #story

[marvelsbanner]

Part of a Team

Summary: Wanda is the newest Avengers recruit and she’s having a hard time finding her place in this new life- maybe she can find it in you?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x y/n, you

Warnings: Brief mention of death and blood, minor language (if you squint theres kind of compromising situations? nothing outright sexual)

Word Count: ~2700

A/N: Reblogs, likes, and comments are VERY much appreciated, all mistakes are my own! xx 

**I don't own marvel and if I did Natasha would be alive**

Something was wrong. You were just in Strucker’s lab- just on the trail of one of the enhanced twins. The alarms were going off around you and your boots clanged on the metal floor- before you froze in your place, a red haze overtaking you and suddenly you were thrown into the daylight.

-

You felt tingles run through your veins and down your spine; your head throbbed. You felt vulnerable, seen. What the hell is going on-

You’re in the forest, you think. No- there are rocks. Big rocks-

Focus.

No, not rocks. Graves. Gravestones. Where the hell are you?

You drag your heavy feet over to the nearest, it takes a moment for your vision to focus.

Who’s grave? Who’s grave? Oh god.  No no no- this, this can’t be-

Natasha Romanoff.

You felt like throwing up. This couldn’t be real. You dragged yourself to another stone situated nearby: Clint Barton. Beloved husband, father, and friend.

It felt like you couldn't breathe, you were just there with them. You were just there.

Your body jerks as cold hands grab your shoulders and spin your body to face them-

Steve.

You throw your arms around his neck, “STEVE! Oh god Steve! You’re okay- you’re.. cold” you feel something wet and sticky on your hand, pulling it back and seeing red. So much red.

“Steve..” you quickly stumble back, tripping in the process. It’s then you see- it’s too late. His body was grey and lifeless. He falls onto his knees and then collapses totally. You scream and scramble backwards, head hitting another gravestone in the process.

You turn to face it, to read another name of one of the team members you’ve come to call family- but it's not one of theirs. It’s yours.

It’s your name. A graveyard for the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Suddenly your body jolts and you take a sharp intake of breath- your ears are pounding. Everything hurts. But you see her- the enhanced. She’s looking at you with a look you can’t describe. It’s not fear, it’s not anger.. Pity? Empathy? You can’t look away from her, the glowing red eyes capturing you as their prey.

And then there was black.

-

A few weeks later and you’re back at the tower. Things have changed- the entire world has changed, really. The battle opened up new doors- literal new doors to new realms- that the world had previously thought impossible.

The team had expanded, with Steve’s friend Sam joining the team, as well as Vision, the synthezoid that helped the team to defeat Ultron.

There was also her.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the enhanced twins from Strucker’s experiments, you eventually learned. It was voluntary, but after learning about her backstory you think you would have done the same in her place. 

She lost her brother- Pietro- in the battle and she took it hard. She didn’t come out of her room when she could help it. Clint was rather protective over her, maybe it was the fatherly figure coming out of him- maybe he was feeling guilt over being the one Pietro sacrificed himself to save. Either way, he was able to get her out of the room a few times and get her to eat. Vision also struck up a strange friendship with the girl- but then again, Vision was easy company, and rather empathetic for a synthezoid.

Everybody took a hit from when Wanda messed with their heads, some more than others.

You didn’t talk for a week.

Didn’t even talk with Clint’s kids when they wanted to play with you.

You didn’t hold it against her. She proved what a valuable asset she was to the team as she fought alongside the group. She did what she thought was right at the time, and that’s not something you could hold against anybody.

Ever since the Battle, Wanda has been staying in the Avengers facilities with the rest of the group, an official Avenger, but you could tell she was still uneasy around the team. She only talked when she was directly talked to and didn't come out of her room but for a few times a day for food and training, sometimes not even then.

And then there was you.

She seemed to avoid you like the plague. You weren’t even sure you two made eye contact for the entire first few weeks she was there.

At first you thought she just didn’t like you, that something about you rubbed her the wrong way, or something you had done had offended her.

But it was her eyes that gave it away- the same soft look that she gave you right after exploring the deepest and darkest parts of your mind that day at Strucker’s lab. She knew from the second it happened that she had hit a deep nerve, and she would continue to give you that damn look every time she thought you didn't notice her.

But you always did.

You couldn’t help it, the way you were drawn to her. She reminded you so much of yourself before joining the team, broken, and alone in your head. You wanted to know her. You wanted to be there for her, be someone to her, you didn’t want her to keep walking on eggshells around you.

And so, you told her.

You found her in the kitchen late one night. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a garnet tank top with a plain gray robe overtop. Her hair was a mess, roughly shoved into a ponytail and her hands were cupped around a mug. She was blowing on what looked to be dandelion tea, and as you got closer the fragrant earthy smell confirmed your suspicions.

She looked adorable.

And slightly startled to find you alone with her.

“Evening” you said as a greeting as you made your way to the counter top.

She gave a tight-lipped half smile with a timid “Hi” before going back to blowing on her tea. She made a slight movement that looked like she was going to try to slip away before you continued,

“You did really well in training the other day. Cap can’t give you enough praise” you say, taking a seat on one of the counter barstools.

She looks puzzled for a moment over your attempt at small talk before getting out a “Thank you.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the air grow thicker with each second ticking by.

“I like the pajamas” you say with a small smirk. You yourself were still dressed for the day in your leather jacket and black jeans. You could have sworn you saw flush creep up her neck before she swallowed it down with a sip of her tea.

There was another silent moment as she gave you a quizzical look, “I don’t quite understand what’s happening here.” She says with a vague hand gesture to the space between them.

You gave a slight chuckle, it was very on-brand for Wanda to be straight to the point.

“Look, Wanda,” You rotated your body on the stool to face her more comfortably,

“I see the way you look at me when you think i’m not looking. You avoid me at any given opportunity, I actually think this has been the most words we’ve exchanged in your whole time living here.”

She raised her ducked head to look you in the eyes and gave a small shake to her head, “I don’t understand.”

You don’t break eye contact, but simply offer a small smile as you reply “I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. And I don’t hold anything from that day against you. All is forgiven, and I would like to move past that. I understand you believed everything you were doing was for the right reasons, and the only thing that it shows me is your dedication and loyalty to a greater cause. Even if it was the wrong one at the time.”

She looked shocked, to say the least. Her mouth slightly opening and closing as she pondered what to say in response.

“You all should be afraid of me. You see the chaos I’ve created and you think you know what I can do,” her voice caught before she continued, “But the truth is I don't even know what i'm capable of. I don’t belong here.” she says softly.

You give a sad smile before slipping off of the stool and moving closer to her.

“We all thought that, at one point or another. We’ve got a whole freak circus here, we’ve got more baggage than Delta flies in a year- that's, that's uh, an airline. My bad.” You elaborate after she gives you a puzzled look, holding back a smile at your stuttered explanation.

“Aaand I ruined the moment.” You give a small chuckle, before continuing “But my point still stands. Nobody belongs here more or less than anyone else. We’re all just here, that's the truth of the matter. We’re just a bunch of unlucky misfits trying to figure out how to work as a team. Just give it a try, and maybe you’ll find you fit in better than you imagined you would.”

At some point during your speech you had moved close enough to take her hand, and you look down at it now, blushing before going to move it away.

Before you could, she gives your hand a squeeze before moving in to place a gentle kiss against your cheek.

“Thank you, y/n.”

And with that she slips away to her room, leaving you alone with your racing heart and her lukewarm mug of tea.

-

The next morning you found yourself awake bright and early for another morning training session with Nat and Steve- but you had a guest this time.

“Wanda” you greeted, which she returned with a timid “Good morning.”

“I’m glad you could make it” you say, sincerely.

“I decided to take your advice.” She replies with the smallest smile pulling at her lips.

The two of you stood there for a moment, just taking each other in before Steve cleared his throat, “Alright, we should get started then. Wanda, I'll spar with you to start. Nat, you take y/n. Try not to kill each other, please.” He said with a humored smile.

You make your way towards the corner with Nat on your heels. She gives you a quizzical look with a raised brow, glancing between you and Wanda. You roll your eyes and shake your head, only responding with a pointed “Later,” before your legs sweep under hers and an arm wraps around her torso, flipping you both to the ground and landing with you on top of her.

“Using my own move against me, that’s a low blow y/n.” You both laugh, and you barely respond with a “I learned from the best” before she wraps a leg around your waist and grabs your wrists with one hand, flipping you over and pinning you to the ground. She winks and replies “Damn right you did.”

It went like that for another half an hour, the two of you going back and forth battling for the upper hand. Natasha was the one who had trained you since the beginning, and you could almost say you were near her equal now. Well, you could at least give her a run for her money in a spar.

The two of you were panting and glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed from the exercise when she gave you a mischievous wink and called out to the other two, “Hey grandpa, I think I’m done getting my ass kicked by y/n for the day. I want someone easy, come spar with me”

If looks could kill, the look you were giving her would have the assassin dead on the floor.

Steve only looked amused, grabbing a towel to wipe his own sweat as he responded “Bring it on, Romanoff. Try not to break anything, though. I’ve been told they want my bones for the Smithsonian” Nat rolled her eyes and gave a pointedly fake laugh before they made their way to the other side of the gym, leaving you and Wanda alone.

“Hi” you greeted. She responded with a small smile and a “Hi” in return.

She looked as though she were still catching her breath, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeably fast and her face was still adorned with a glisten of sweat and pretty pink flush.

The same flush you saw from her last night, standing in the kitchen with the dim light around her.

Oh God you were in deep now.

“Nat and I were just wrestling around, hand to hand combat kind of stuff, but I see you and Steve were boxing so it's up to you what you’d like to do.” you say quickly.

“Well.. I do have this,” She waves her hand to show her flicker of red powers “for missions, so I don’t think I really need that kind of training.” She says with a smirk, “But I admit, you seem like a good teacher. Maybe.. some basics?”

She was pushing it. Pushing at this, the same way you were pushing last night. Alright, maybe you could run with this.

You give her a teasing smile, “Alright then. We’ll start slowly. May I?” You ask, reaching out for her, but not quite touching.

“By all means” she says, and you can feel the familiar flush creeping up your neck again. You release a puff of breath and shake yourself out of your thoughts before stepping closer to Wanda, and in one fluid motion you had one leg behind hers, your left arm resting against her upper chest and your other at the small of her back, pushing her flush against yourself.

You could hear the small gasp she let out, smirking to yourself.

“This is a simple take down, easy to get out of, but good for beginning. Now i'm just gonna pull you down as slowly as I can-”

You bring her left leg out from under her and carefully let the two of you sink to the floor, leaving you straddled on top of her and pinning her arms to the ground. The air suddenly felt a lot warmer.

You meet her eyes, breath hitching as you feel her pulse quicken beneath your touch.

You clear your throat and begin again, “Like I said before, it’s easy to get out of, but you want to keep the element of surprise. Use your opponent's body weight against them, if you can twist your wrist to slip it out of their grip and use your hips to to flip-”

Before you could even finish she had you pinned beneath her, wind knocked out of you from the impact.

“Like that?” she said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, thick accent teasing- flirting?

You were suddenly very aware of your close proximity and compromising position- flush against each other with her hips straddling your waist; close enough to feel her rapid heartbeat. 

“Yeah- that was- that was good” you sputtered out, barely able to hear yourself over the rapid beating of your own heart. Or maybe it was hers- you aren't sure you could tell the difference between up and down right now.

She gave a proud smirk and opened her mouth to say something before a certain synthezoid floated through the gym walls, clueless to the moment he was interrupting.

“Mr. Stark requests a team meeting and would like you to meet him in the conference room.” He said simply before turning and leaving through the wall again.

Wanda gave you a look that seemed to say we’ll finish this later and moved off of you. You missed the heat of her body immediately.

She offered you a hand up and you gladly took it, the two of you walking side by side in silence to the meeting, shoulders bumping and small smiles shared between you two as you think to yourself that maybe you could get used to this. 

#marvel #wandavision #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #mcu #mcu avengers x reader #avengers x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #avengers fanfic #avengers fanfiction #sapphic fanfic #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff headcanons #wanda maximoff x you #avengers x you

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

This story takes place during the summer of 1987. It's the time of the Cold War, and heavy metal, and Just Say No.

Ten chapters, each with a specific song as its soundtrack.

I'm so excited to finally share it with you.

----

Chapter 1: Starry Eyes

Soundtrack: "Starry Eyes," Mötley Crüe, 1981 [click here to listen]

It was quiet here in the mountains.

Claire Beauchamp drew in a long, shaky breath of clear, crisp air, and tucked her legs up onto the seat of the Adirondack chair. Watching the sun set over the valley.

Gripping the arm of the chair with shaky hands.

Behind her on the deck, a dozen or so strangers – men and women – shuffled into their own chairs, or to square tables with board games under one arm. Chatter wafted through the door that led into The Ridge’s main building.

The brochure that Joe Abernathy had pressed into her hands, sitting in the back seat of his Jaguar sedan while his wife Gail drove them to the airport, described The Ridge as a residential treatment facility. Her mind was still reeling from the intervention, and that Gail had already packed her a duffel bag stuffed with essentials – it had all been so seamless.

There were many things Claire had wanted to block out in the two years since she’d left Frank and everything had fallen apart. Many things she had shut out from the world around her, paralyzed by pain. But she hadn’t lost all of her faculties quite yet.

Because no matter what The Ridge called itself, no matter how beautiful the landscaping of its grounds, or the plush cushions on the chairs, or the gourmet meals prepared by the in-house chef (herself five years in recovery, or so the brochure proudly proclaimed), there was no hiding what it really was.

Rehab.

Claire was there because she was an addict.

And she would stay there until she had unfucked her life.

“Excuse me?”

She turned to see a tall man, red hair down to his shoulders, colorful tattoos covering every inch of his arms and disappearing beneath the sleeves of a well-fitted black t-shirt.

“May I sit next to you?”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He flopped down into the chair, crossed his long legs, and lay both palms on the armrests, thumbs tapping a quick beat.

“First day?”

It had been forty six hours since her last fix, and pain sliced her skull. She hadn’t gone this long without in more than a year. “Yes,” she murmured.

Now his fingers joined in the tapping. “Thought so. The new ones always come in the middle of the day – that’s why Group is always in the afternoons. So we can have our individual sessions in the morning, and meet all together in the afternoon. It helps to stick to a schedule.”

She turned in the chair to look at him. He wasn’t looking at her – just gazing straight ahead – but he kept talking. “Anyway, it’ll just be a few minutes until dinner. I hope you like Mexican – they take Taco Tuesdays pretty seriously around here.”

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name. I know we introduced ourselves at Group, but it’s all just a blur.”

He turned to face her, and she could hear his smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’re Claire – pills addict. That’s what you told us, anyway.”

“It’s true.”

“Well then.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jamie – I’m an alcoholic. Bourbon, mostly. And a little bit of cocaine, now and again.”

She gripped his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m a sex addict, too,” he added. “John – my therapist here – he said that the more honest I am, the better it will be for me later on.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” she said, not quite sure what else to say.

“I’ve hurt a lot of people by not being honest, and by drinking, and not being honest about my drinking.” He folded his hands in his lap. Lallybroch read one tattoo inching up his left arm, and Ellen read another. “I’m on the tenth step. I’ve learned a lot so far.”

Claire stared down at her own hands – bare, except for her mother’s silver wedding band, which Uncle Lamb had given her when she was twelve. “Well, if we’re going for honesty – I’m a trauma surgeon, at one of the top hospitals in Boston. My asshole ex-husband used to hit me, and I prescribed myself some ludes to deaden everything. I wrote out the scripts to him, then took them to the pharmacy myself.” She pursed her lips, feeling his eyes on her. “I thought I had it under control – I thought that nobody noticed. Until I showed up high one day, and made a stupid mistake, and almost killed a patient.”

He was strangely quiet – and after silently counting to twenty, Claire looked up at him. He was still tapping his fingers against the armrest of the chair, though in a more structured, organized rhythm. Nodding his head. Thinking.

“It was my best friend who got me here,” he said softly. “I’ve known him since we were kids – he even married my sister. He saw what I was doing to myself, how much I was hurting her, and hurting the thing that he and I had worked so hard to build.” A spray of black and white stars flexed above his elbow. “Who got you here?”

“My best friend. We went to medical school together – he was my man of honor at my wedding. He and his wife staged a full-on intervention.”

Jamie’s brows lifted. “Wow.”

She nodded, encouraged. “I’d already been indefinitely suspended without pay from the hospital. I figured, what do I have to lose?”

“Yeah. We have to reach that point.”

A metallic clang pierced the air – and Claire jumped.

Jamie smiled. “That’s the literal dinner bell. Like I said, I hope you like tacos.”

Claire slid forward in the chair and stood, stretching. “I could eat anything right about now. I’m not too picky.”

Now Jamie stood – and smiled down at her. “I’m helping get everyone seated tonight – we all pick up chores around here. See you in there?”

She smiled back. “Yeah. And thanks for talking to me.”

“No sweat.” Quickly he stepped away from her and across the deck toward the door back inside.

“Hey.”

Claire turned to see a woman – young, dark-haired, size zero – remove her enormous sunglasses.

“Yes?”

“I can’t believe you were talking to him!” she exclaimed.

Claire shoved her hands into her pockets. “What do you mean?”

The woman shook her head. “Do you even know who he is?”

“He introduced himself. Seemed nice enough. Why?”

The woman huffed and flipped her hair over one shoulder. “That’s Jamie Fraser. You know – the singer and lead guitarist in Print?”

“Print?” Claire searched her scattered memory. “Isn’t that some hard rock band?”

“Not just some band – the biggest band in the world for at least five years now. Like, dozens of hits, videos on MTV 24/7, big stadium tours, and armloads of awards. I’ve been trying to get his attention since I got here! And he just walked right up to you!”

It had been a long day. Claire was hungry, and tired, and wanted nothing more than an aspirin and a pillow – maybe a taco first. Definitely not any more time with this girl.

“Well, thanks for the info – ”

“Geneva,” the woman explained. “I’m an alcoholic. You?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Claire made a beeline for the door.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #little bit better than i used to be #here we go

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

So I watched 10.09 recently, and it has that part where Dean tells a story about him basically being almost roofied as a teen, but somehow it ends up framed as the funny joke and yet another proof that John "did what he could", and I kind of hate this? And it's the same episode in which MoC!Dean killed guys that kidnapped and tried to rape Claire, and you'd think writers would've addressed the parallels and acknowledge that Dean could've been triggered by this situation. 1/2

2/2 But in the end, it's never addressed, and the whole situation is framed as the proof that Dean is evil now. And I'm not even sure what I am trying to say, but with that being the show's approach back in s10, I'm not surprised about the finale anymore. Guess we should've known?

That’s an excellent angle to look at the issue because the Mark of Cain arc is a clear example of how people with different experiences will see the same thing in wildly different ways. There’s this phase of season 10 where everyone is like “oh no Dean is Getting Worse” and when you look at what Dean is doing... you actually go “...good for him”.

Let’s give Caesar what belongs to Caesar. It’s not “the writers” in this case, it’s Dabb. Plenty of other writers don’t fall into this John apologism thing. Just look at how the episode before Lebanon, written by Buckner and Ross Leming, says that sometimes John would temporarily kick Dean out because he was “pissed at him” despite Dean always taking his side to mantain the peace. It almost seems like a statement to sprinkle some salt given what Dabb does in Lebanon, you know? Maybe not, but there is a tension between “John was shitty” writers and “John did his best” writers.

In hindsight, we gave Dabb too much of the benefit of the doubt. We were like, weeell, that’s supposed to be way the characters perceive the truth, which is distorted by the trauma... But now it’s obvious that he truly believed in the John-did-his-best version. He brought him back and got Mary back with him. No matter what happened to the finale, the network didn’t print those pictures of John and Mary to hang on Sam’s wall. He never took Dean’s abuse seriously and it shows.

The “anedocte” of Dean getting drugged and “saved” by John from being raped is obviously there to parallel him with Claire. Which works! It’s so weird because it’s like. You are soooo close to getting the point. Younger Dean was assaulted just like this teenage girl is assaulted and Dean saves her... but apparently John yelling at those people is a good way of dealing with the issue, while murdering child traffickers is an overraction thus bad.

That’s the problem, isn’t it? That Dean’s murder spree is framed as an overreaction. Sam is like “tell me you had to do this! tell me it was you or them!” - the answer to which (by the narrative) is obviously no, it wasn’t self defense, he just killed them because he could. He just murdered those men for no reason except he felt like being murdery. And the audience is supposed to be like “oh no! Dean is murdery for no reason except for murderiness! That’s bad!”.

But it’s a power fantasy, isn’t it? Going on a murder spree on rapists and traffickers. I bet any people who’s been violated like that has fantasized of doing the exact thing Dean does here. Killing them all.

Dean had the physical strength and skill to kill them all, why shouldn’t he kill them? (I mean, in real life I’m against private justice because I’m a fan of the state of law, but the Supernatural universe obviously works on different principles than the state of law. Again, it’s a fictional narrative that plays out as a fantasy for the audience, so.)

So what was Dabb’s intention? I’m afraid it’s the worst one. “John Winchester’s not going to win any Number One Dad awards, you know? But, you know, damn if he wasn’t there when we needed him”. What the fuck, Dabb? It’s been established since season 1 that John WASN’T there when they needed him. Which... I’m afraid... leads us to the Cas-Claire plot in the episode. Cas has fucked off with Jimmy’s body leaving Claire on her own. Parallels how John wasn’t going to win wny Number One Dad awards. But! Cas is there when Claire Really Needs Him i.e. when she’s about to be raped by older men. Parallels how John was there when Dean Really Needed Him i.e. when he was about to be raped by older men.

I think the point is to say, Cas kinda sucked because he took Claire’s dad away but hey! He’s actually a good figure for Claire because he gets there in time to prevent her from being raped. Just like (ew) John kinda sucked as a father because hunting and stuff, but hey! He’s actually a good figure for Dean because he got there in time to prevent him from being raped.

It’s pretty yucky. Literally NOBODY wanted a parallel between Cas and John. But he made one. And he made one to absolve Cas from the guilt he carried for what he did to Claire (Claire’s mother is a mother so who fucking cares about her. She’s basically a Blurry Wife(TM), she’s only a tool for Claire’s arc, Cas apparently only cares about the harm he did the child, not the wife, for some reason.) and to absolve Cas from his guilt it absolves John too. Don’t worry, being a parent is hard. You often screw up. But you can *looks at smudged writing on hand* prevent the kid from being raped by predatory adults and everything’s fine now.

It’s not really important if the child suffered hunger or whatever, the only important thing is that they don’t get raped, because that’s bad, everything else is just a little detail.

All Dabb got with that scene was to paint Sam as extremely unsympathetic because he’s no longer a child, he’s a full adult now and still thinks of that episode at the CBGB as a funny story. That’s not a good look. It almost makes you think that the writer himself saw it as a funny story. Lol teenage boy biting more than he can chew. But then why the Claire parallel? The Claire scene onviously is not supposed to be anything but horrific. I'll give Dabb the benefit of the doubt on this specific thing.

It’s weird, yes, because Dabb wrote Dark Side of the Moon where he establishes that John was a bad husband/father even before tragedy hit the family. But apparently that’s the “not going to win any Number One Dad awards” part, I suppose? I guess he intended to write John as this flawed, ~complex~ figure who was imperfect but still brave and whatever blah blah did his best blah blah. I’m all for flawed complicated characters but a horrible father is a horrible father. A rose by any other name... parental abuse is still parental abuse even if the poor guy was complicated and traumatized and did what he thought he had to do to prepare his sons for a violent world.

Also, the story frames Dean’s escapade as a teenager being stupid. “You know what he got for that? Me whining about how much he embarrassed me. Me telling him that I hated him. But then he stopped and turned around looked at me and said, Son, you don’t like me? That’s fine. It’s not my job to be liked.” “It’s my job to raise you right.” This seems straight from a novel about teenagers doing something stupid that they’re too young to realize that their parents are right to be against them doing. But this isn’t just... a parent walking into a bar to stop their child to drink alcohol. Dean literally describes feeling sick from something that was inside the alcohol.

Sure, it makes sense that he’d lash out to John because of the shame and shock. But the scene is... off. Are we supposed to see this as a typical teenage mistake? Are we supposed to read it as something as horrific as what happened to Claire, literally sold into rape? Or, worse, are we supposed to see what happened to Claire as a teenage mistake, ah silly teenager, blindly trusting shady people, no wonder you end up in a situation where you’d get raped if a father figure didn’t sweep in and save you. I hope that wasn’t the intent.

To get back to Dean’s Mark-of-Cain violence, the writers clearly didn’t intend it to come from the Darkness up to a certain point. It was supposed to an arc about your own inner darkness (consider the Charlie episode, a couple episodes later). Then they came up with the idea of The(TM) Darkness, the suppressed cosmic feminine. While it caused a bit of dissonance in the subtext, it doesn’t really change Dean’s narrative, because his inner darkness is the trauma, and his trauma is inherebtly tied to the “feminine” i.e. the parts of him that don’t fit seamlessly into the scheme of toxic masculinity values. That the violence that comes from the Mark of Cain comes from Dean himself and that’s it, or is connected to the Darkness, it doesn’t change what it means for Dean. Dean and Amara have parallel histories, the feminine principle locked away, the trauma the anger stems from.

In 10x09 we’re still in the Before The (TM) Darkness era, before the suppressed cosmic feminine. The Mark of Cain arc is still about... well, Cain. But the shift is the signal that someone looked at Dean’s arc and said... you know what? “Lucifer gave me this curse so now I’m demonic and murdery” is meh. “Toxic masculinity suppresses the feminine and it creates trauma which rage and violence comes from” is more interesting. I don’t know whose idea it was, but it was a good idea, and surely the idea came from seeing how Dean’s MoC narrative was unfolding.

Dean’s MoC narrative was unfolding in a certain way, in fact, because of a pretty simple reason. There’s a fundamental tension in Dean’s MoC arc. We want him to go murdery, but it’s also our main character, so we don’t want him to do really horrible things because he still needs to be relatable. The audience cannot hate him, so he must NOT do something entirely unforgivable. He still needs to be somewhat relatable, even when demonic or demonic-adjacent.

So he goes on a murder spree... but it’s rapists and child traffickers. He’s demon, but he kills a misogynistic dude that wanted his wife dead for cheating on him. He’s a demon, but beats up dudes that harass women. He does a slaughter, but they’re nazi. He’s off the deep end, but works a case of kidnapped and abused young women...

Speaking of which. 10x23, written by Jeremy Carver. Dean works a case where a girl was killed while dressed scantily and Dean makes some slut-shaming remarks, and we’re supposed to think “whoa Dean, that’s bad”. But later he confronts the girl’s father and what does he say?

I’m just doing my job, Mr. McKinley.

By suggesting my daughter was a slut?

I’ll admit that thought crossed my mind. Then I came here, and I smelled the deceit and the beatings and the shame that pervade this home.

You shut your face right now.

And you know what? I don’t blame Rose anymore. No wonder she put on that skank outfit and went out there looking for validation, right into the arms of the monster that killed her.

Back then the episode was super controversial and everyone hated the case because of the apparent slut-shaming but I loved it! Because it’s not about the girl. It’s about Dean. Dean doesn’t think that a girl gets killed because she dresses in a miniskirt so it’s her fault. Dean is projecting on himself and he’s not actually victim blaming the girl, he’s victim blaming himself. And when he absolves the girl by putting the blame on the father... well, subtextually he’s absolving himself by putting the blame on his father. On the deceit and the beatings and the shame that pervaded his own home. He’s textually not ready to absolve himself, of course, he summons Death to ask him to kill him later, but subtextually he’s on the right path.

Rose McKinley basically did the same mistake Dean did at the CBGB when he trusted some older people who offered him drinks and the same mistake Claire did when she trusted a man who sold her for money because he offered him a place and stability. She trusted the wrong people (in this case, vampires, which adds the whole subtext of vampires and sexuality) who took advantage of her. Except Rose had no one to save her. (Her friend, Crystal, gets rescued by Dean, even if he causes the other hunter Rudy to die in the process.)

Carver’s writing is pretty brutal. The girl made that mistake because was abused at home, so she was desperate for validation and that desperation drove her into the wrong hands. (Rose even has a brother who blames himself for bringing her sister to her future murderers, destructive sibling relationship check.) It doesn’t actually even matter if Dean guessed right about Rose’s family situation, because what matters is what it tells us about Dean. He basically relates to a dead abused girl. Actually all through the season Dean is paralleled to “skanks” “sluts” and sex workers. Obviously this happens kinda all through the show, the whole “the business is based on absent fathers” thing happened much earlier in the story, so it’s not new. But s10 draws a picture of female suffering - abuse, manipulation and death. Season 10 was difficult to go through. In hindsight, it was probably on purpose because it was supposed to be darkest hour of the feminine. Summed with some good old fashioned misogyny, but hey.

The Carver era was wonky but Carver wanted to free the feminine. (I believe that Mary’s comeback, while written by Dabb because of the showrunner shift, was planned before the showrunner shift.) We thought the Dabb era wanted the same, with Mary choosing life and Amara being independent and so on, but it evidently wasn’t the case. Not a single woman arrives at end of the story. It’s hardly ~Bucklemming or ~the network or ~covid because it starts before the very end.

I’m not saying that dead sluts are more feminist than living women, but if the women die or disappear anyway (and they did) I’d rather have an exploration of trauma than nothing. And I definitely prefer a dead slut narrative that calls out parental abuse than a narrative where women live but abuse gets the you-did-your-best treatment.

Whoops! I digressed! But feel free to ask for any clarification or send me any observation or thought.

#anon #my spn thoughts #season 10 #spn 10x09 #spn 10x23 #dean and john #parental abuse #john winchester's a+ parenting #mark of cain #demon dean #spn #i love talking about season 10 uh

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Five - Consolation

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, grief, the aftermath of that death...all that Jazz! Plus a lil moment I’ve been fucking itching to include.

Chibs's breath was stuck in the middle of his throat, jutting thickly the more he thought about Opie cradling Donna's sallow cheeks as she bled out onto the gravel.

It'd cut deep, this one.

So many bodies he had bared witness to over the years. So many lives lost and souls snatched and whatever else right before his undaunted eyes--but nothing really hurt as much as that.

Because he knew what it was like. How it maimed a man. How it felt like his world was hurtling toward the chasms of hell during the moments after arriving at the scene and seeing his wife there. Dead.

Cold and dead and lonely. And completely gone.

Guilt resided, too. It was true tangible remorse for the simple proficiency of; that should've been me.

It happened with Diane--it happened to Chibs's wife, the mother of his kid, and the one true light in his life right after Isla. And it should've been him.

It was brutal, the way it happened tonight. It was fierce and heartless and Chibs knew in a flash that those bullets struck the wrong skull.

He couldn't bear the reverberation anymore, the gutturals from Piney's son who'd just lost his wife for no good reason during a drive-by in their quaint little town. The town that'd swelled wickedly with corruption these last few weeks.

Stahl was at the scene before he left. Looking pensive, actually. She looked guilty.

Chibs's basic instinct had landed the blame at her door--put the blood on her hands--but he kept his mouth shut for fear of what'd happen next. He didn't think that SAMCRO could handle this.

Because this wasn't a product of Mayan or Niner rivalry. He wasn't stupid--he knew that his President had something to do with this.

This was cultivated from the seeds sown by June Stahl, the pips planted so very deeply into the mind of Clay Morrow which forced him to believe that Opie Winston was a rat.

And he wasn't. He'd never sell his club out--no matter the damage, the pain inflicted upon him--and he'd never dream of pinning the fault on his brothers.

But he had to look a little bit closer to home if he wanted those answers. If he wanted to know just who sniped Donna--a completely innocent woman caught in the most ferocious of crossfires--he had to turn to someone that he knew was culpable of such activity.

Chibs's heart ached. It impaired him so very deeply that the only thing he could visualize on the ride back to Jax's house was her face.

Her face that dripped blood. Saturated crimson plagued his thoughts and forced his stomach to churn vociferously. He felt sick now.

He felt sick because Opie had lost his wife, Piney had lost a crucial member of his small family, and her kids had lost their mother. The woman that had worked so tirelessly to provide a life for them, to love and care for them unconditionally no matter what.

Opie was strong, he knew that--but he didn't know if he was strong enough to handle this. This crippling weight, this hurt and the idea of what could've been done differently.

Because so much could've happened to prevent this.

His tongue had become inoculated with bile, acrimonious ire for whoever the fuck was to blame for such unnecessary brutality--and, really, Chibs knew that he didn't have to look much further than Isla's favorite blue-eyed heathen this time.

And that broke his heart because of the pedestal she held that man upon. The pedestal she'd always held him atop, so fucking highly, too.

She knew that he was bad--an inherently bad human being--but he was just Tig. Her buddy. Clay's right hand that, really, he'd always count on. No matter what. And he'd always deliver the king's request, too.

Tig was the one that Isla called when her car broke down on the freeway and she needed to get home in time for Gemma's dinner.

The one she turned to for cheering up because he always knew how to crack a smile and get through to her.

The one that she strangely respected the most. Nobody really recognized what it was about that man that had Isla overjoyed when in his presence, she just was. And that was part of his charm.

But her father was anxious, now. Worried that she would take this news--if it came to light--badly. Because it was going to break her heart, regardless.

It was how she would handle it, which was the true hardship.

"Christ." Chibs's voice struggled to materialize, gesturing to his daughter passed out on Jax's couch. "How long's she been sleepin'?"

Mascara and eyeliner and whatever the fuck else she'd painted onto her face had started to melt away, trails of black and grey faintly running her cheeks.

"'Bout an hour." Gemma responded, sniffling back the putrid emotion she'd so obviously let flood the moments leading up to their arrival.

Jax's stomach was doing backflips at the thought of Isla crying herself to sleep in his living room--after everything that he'd put her through, too.

He feared that this was going to be the tip of the iceberg. That this was going to pulverize her sanity and compromise everything she had sought to fight off these last few days.

And he couldn't help but harbor those same suspicions as her father, either. Jax wanted to keep his mouth shut until he was certain that this was an inside job, but he was teetering toward that conclusion regardless.

It was the only viable explanation.

He, too, worried about what this would do to her. That finding out Tig was the potential culprit and reason why Opie's children were officially motherless.

"How's Ope?" She continued, already knowing the answer but asking anyway. Jax's head shook. "Oh."

"Not good, ma. But he's home now."

"And you're sure of that?"

"Yeah--I followed him back to make sure he got there in one piece. He wanted to leave the second the fuckin' ATF stormed in."

"Oh." Gem repeated herself, running her fingers through Isla's hair as she rested in her lap. "What about Clay? Where'd he get to?"

Chibs took a seat at one of the wooden chairs that'd been positioned around the coffee table, and Jax sank into the couch opposite the girls.

It was pitiful. Darkness enveloped them as Isla slept, innocently resting as the world shattered around her.

She wasn't oblivious to the happenings. She hadn't slept through it all, but she was done. Isla had been distant for days, had been fretting over the unimaginable and Gemma was worried that she was going to make herself sick if she continued the way that she was.

So she twisted her fingers and nails through the flowing waves of golden blonde, and soothed her the same way that she always did.

The same way that she found comfort as a kid.

He sighed. Exhausted. "Dunno. Last I saw he was with Tig."

"Aye." The Scot agreed with a nod, too. Hating the thought of Trager being responsible for something like this.

But it was merely a suspicion that Chibs hoped and prayed would get debunked sooner or later.

"Did he say anything?"

"Nah. He talked a little to Unser--seems to think it was a hit on Ope gone wrong--so, I guess they're gonna be lookin' into the Niners."

"Aye." Chibs spoke again, gesturing to Isla. "Did she say much when we left?"

"Not really--she just busied herself and cleaned up with Wendy. Seems like they're getting along now."

Jax smiled a bit, happy that his best friend and the mother of his child were starting to accept the presence of one another in Abel's life.

Truly, that's all he really wanted. That and his mother finally being able to turn the other cheek, and quit castigating his kid's mom.

"Did Clay leave before you?" Gemma asked, antsy. She was itching to get home, itching to see and comfort her husband because she knew that he was going to be fretting over this.

"I told you, the last I saw, he was with Tig. Dunno if he left after us, or if he's still there."

She looked away, smoothing her thumb over Isla's cheek.

"He'll be home soon--I should take off."

"Not on your own." Jax upheld, simply terrified of what could've happened to his mother had she left alone.

As far as Jax wanted her to know, this was bad blood between clubs. This was a hit put out on an innocent bystander because they knew it'd jolt SAMCRO--and it did.

It shook them to the very fucking core, jutting them repeatedly--mere moments away from crumbling and completely disintegrating into Harley Davidson dust.

And he really didn't want to admit that this was the work of his step-father and Alexander Trager. But he feared that was the only viable explanation.

"I'll--eh--I'll take her back." Chibs offered, getting up to ghost a hand over Isla's blushed cheek. "I was gonna take her home with me tonight, but I think she's better off stayin' put."

Jax agreed with a nod, smiling weakly at his mother. Though, she knew it was a coverup. A not-so-brilliant facade and attempt at showing that he was okay during this barbarous time.

"I don't wanna wake her." She mused, pushing strands of hair from her face. "She looks so damn peaceful."

Gemma hadn't a cozy moment with Isla for a while--not since she was recovering from a broken heart four summers ago.

The last time that she turned to Gemma--the same way she would as a child--for that motherly comfort.

"I know." The older man crouched to the ground, tracing faintly along her arm. Isla grumbled, slowly rousing. "C'mon petal, it's gettin' late."

He kept a hand against her, running this thumb over the freckled skin softly. Diane's crucifix caught his eye as she shifted, impairing him that little bit more tonight.

"What time is it?" She asked roughly, feeling a sting in her throat. Isla lifted herself off of Gemma's lap, rubbing at her eyes. "Is it late?"

"It's about one o'clock."

"Shit." Her hiss was sharp, galled that she'd been allowed to rest for so long whilst there was a literal wildfire sweeping its way through the club. "Ope--oh my god--Opie. Is he okay?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Jax was about to say before he even opened his mouth, and so tears ensued. Crystalline hues weeped and watered, and he was unsettled.

Unsettled because she was so strong in the face of such tragedy, rarely shedding any tears before an audience.

Unsettled because, up until the Kohn incident, Jax hadn't seen her cry since she was shot in the knee after three Mayans decidedly stormed the T M lot and strived to gun down each and every person on the premises.

He never forgave himself for that, actually. Because those bullets--though completely un-fatal and leaving a simple mark that, really, Isla referred to as her battle scars--should've been for him.

"He went home. To be with the kids." Jax cleared his throat, kneeling in front of her when Chibs got to his feet and gestured for Gemma. "He's--uh--he's in a bad way."

"Understandably." She mumbled. "Any ideas on who did this?"

Your favorite son.

"No. Clay thinks it might've been the Niners--shits been off since they decided to pull their fucking guns on us after the warehouse was raided."

"That was their rationale?"

"I guess so." He added. "It'd make sense. We lost their guns, so we lost a life--"

"But Donna." Isla argued, sitting upright. "Donna was innocent."

"We know that, love, but Laroy was probably under the impression that Ope was the one behind the wheel." Her father spoke over Jax, heeding his uncertainty. "It wasn't meant to be her."

Chibs had to blow his theory out of the water, firstly.

"A life is a life. To them, so long as they've got one of ours--someone close to us--they've succeeded with somethin'--"

"All they've succeeded with is leaving two kids without a fucking mother." Isla spat, throwing away the small blanket that Gemma had draped over her as she stood up. "And you've gotta stop being so fucking insensitive."

Jax stumbled backwards, watching her storm out of the room in her pretty little summer dress. He couldn't surmise whether following behind or leaving the woman to simmer alone, was the best idea.

It was a touchy subject, the loss of a parent. It was prickly and raw and it never ceased to strike Isla's heart. Because she understood.

She understood how much it hurt. The uncertainty of it all. Not knowing what to do next. How life changes more than what anyone ever prepares you for and, really, how nothing is ever the same again.

Isla knew it all too well. She'd been there, done that, and refused to go back. But with Chibs's life, his line of work, she was never granted that security.

And it wasn't particularly the security that she wanted, more so the knowledge of what--god forbid anything--would happen to her father. Because that's what bothered her the most about Diane.

She never knew anything about her mother's passing.

Jax got a pretty tight grip on the concept, too. But it was different with Isla--it was something she never quite grasped.

"A life is a life," Gemma mocked the insensitivity from the baffled Scotsman, shaking her head. "That wasn't just any life, Chibs. That was Opie's woman, the mother of his children, and one of Isla's oldest friends--she was family. She wasn't just a life."

His lips twitched before he exhaled sharply, knowing that she was right.

Knowing that his response was much too unsympathetic and heartless and, really, he was an idiot to forget how upset she got whenever something that pertained to the death of her mother was brought up.

"Your kid is grieving. She's grieving for Ope, for Piney, for Kenny and Ellie--for herself because this--" she gestured to nothing in particular, but he understood, "--is something she knows all too well, ain't it? Diane?"

"I know." Tersely, he responded. He pulled a hand through his hair. "I fuckin' know how she feels, but I didn't think she'd storm out when I said it!"

"Well, she's always been unpredictable."

"I know." His riposte was braided with anger, pure fury.

"Then why'd you say it?" Gemma jabbed. "Isla has been about six thousand miles away from us these last few days, and you thought that saying such a stupid thing wouldn't tip her over the edge?"

She was defensive of the blonde--always had been.

And Jax was sick of it.

Sick of the back-and-forth between the two. Sick of that holier than thou bullshit from Gemma--pretending that she wasn't thinking the same fucking thing--and sick of the way Chibs cared more to argue than to go after his daughter.

"Make sure Wendy stays if you two leave--I'm going."

"Where?" Chibs demanded.

But Jax just glared at him, stuffed his hands in both pockets, and walked straight out of the house.

It was cooler, now. The breeze had hit him square in the face the second he stepped over the threshold, and it was nice. To feel a little breeze that'd inevitably take the edge off of the lament sizzling away inside of him, was nice.

It was short lived, though. The second he realized that he couldn't see Isla--that she was completely out of sight--dragged him straight back down to earth, and the panic had set in.

He trusted her, of course he knew that she wasn't going to do anything stupid because she valued her life too much, and she wanted to do great things. So many great things.

But Jax also knew her too well. Well enough to know that the first place she would've thought about storming toward was the Clubhouse--the place that she'd find Tig.

And under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have rushed to get to her before she had a chance to get to T M. But the possibility of walking in and discerning Trager's inconsolable fury--his resentment and self-loathing--was much too great a risk for Jax to take.

He had to intercept.

He had to save her before she got the chance to set foot onto the property.

But, realistically, Jax was more than aware that Isla was probably already halfway there by now, and weaving through the unusual bustle of traffic in his small town just wasn't worth it.

"Shit." He growled, hopping onto his bike regardless. Saving a sliver of hope that he'd find her tonight.

He wasn't exactly optimistic, though. Because she'd already stormed four blocks.

Isla wrapped her cardigan tightly around her body--feeling the cold a bit more than what Jax had earlier--and hastily made her way downtown.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't fear the short walk toward the garage, but it was chilling. The thought of Donna's killer roaming freely, parading around that neighborhood, was daunting.

But she wasn't scared.

Or, at least, Isla wasn't scared until she heeded the red and blue flashing lights right in the middle of the intersection. The apparent murder scene.

Her heart sank, actually. The organ dropped to her stomach, pulsating slowly--barely--at the sight of Charming PD, CSI, and her. The group scattered, conversing, and speculating.

It was horrible. Sick.

She'd seen this before. She'd seen deaths and murders, and whatever came during the moments following. But she hasn't felt this way before.

The incapacitating throb. The discomfort and grief for such a horrendous--albeit freak--accident. And she wasn't stupid. She was as cognizant as her father and as empathetic as Jax, and she knew just as well as those two that this was not a purposeful attack.

Whether it was a consequence of Mayan or Niner misconduct, it was a wrongful onslaught that was about to cull an entire family. An entire charter.

If it hadn't already, that was.

She choked around the swell in her throat, padding along the sidewalk. She took her time, but she wasn't slow by any means. She had a place to be, and a specific person that she had to see--to talk to because she didn't know how to cope with this.

And it wasn't exactly her place to mourn for Donna. She hadn't been involved with her for some five years and she felt bad about the pair unable to rekindle their friendship. She felt bad about grieving the loss of Opie's wife--about taking the focus away from him.

But it hurt. It hurt so much--it sliced deeply, through flesh and tendon and bone--and she knew that Tig wouldn't judge her for this inveterate sorrow. He wouldn't see her as selfish or stupid for wanting to project her sincerities, her emotions.

Her heels clicked across the yard and she smiled a little bit when she passed Juice and Tig's bikes beside one another, letting her know that she wasn't going to be alone in there.

She was scared now, though. Because she hadn't talked about this yet. Hadn't talked about how she felt and how she was going to approach Opie the next time she saw him.

"Juice?" Isla squeaked from the doorway, waiting for him to turn around and run to her, or something. But he didn't move, didn't lift his head.

It was dreary inside. The lights had been dimmed, the men surrounding the tables and bar were downtrodden, and Isla felt as though she'd just walked through the gates of hell.

The vibrancy and boisterous nature of SAMCRO had come to a complete standstill, and she was actually yearning for the sleaze that usually enveloped the space.

Her sigh was defeated, forlorn. She sniffed as her nose ran, making her way to the bathroom to go and clean herself up--because she knew that she looked dreadful, and didn't want anybody to really see her that way.

"Is anyone in here?" She asked softly against the locked door, knowing that the answer was yes and that Tig was the occupant--but she persisted, anyway.

The mellifluous rhythm bled through the oak, jolting him still as blood poured from the gash in his head, and shattered glass surrounded his frame and the sink.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, glaring monotonously at himself in front of the mirror. Glaring at the fucking monster that was about to welcome Isla into open arms, comforting her because he knew that she'd need it.

"Yeah," He opened up, smiling down at her. "But I'm done, if you wanna--"

"What happened to you?" She put a hand against his chest, pushing him back into the room. Her brow furrowed when he didn't respond. "Tiggy?"

His entire body winced at Isla's soft touch. At the way her pink nails traced over the patch of skin on his chest, uncovered by his shirt--the shirt he was going to burn after tonight.

She gently gripped at his chin, turning his face to the right to get a better look at the incision on his left. Her eyes filled again, lips turned downward.

"Let me clean you up."

"You don't gotta--"

"I do." Isla cut him off, blinking away her tears. "If it doesn't get treated, it might get infected."

Like father, like daughter--always the first person to tend to an injury. She was so loving, so benevolent. Nothing like him, he thought.

Tig watched her maneuver around the tiny bathroom, admiring her desire to patch him up. To care for him and help make him feel better.

Not much would've helped at that moment, but she was trying her best.

"How'd you get over here?" He asked, leaning against the sink.

"I walked--"

"You walked?" Pissed, Tig spat. "Jesus fuck, Isla, you can't walk these parts alone, anymore."

She looked up at him from the spot she was crouched at, sifting through a small first-aid kit in the cabinet. "Who said I was alone?"

"Were you?" His eyes narrowed. She got to her feet, putting the small plastic box beside him, looking his face over a few times.

Her head shook. "Nope. Never alone with these thoughts."

Tig couldn't not chuckle at her response, but he was still worried about her. He didn't worry often--he was too selfish for that--but anything to do with his favorite blonde saw him panic like a madman.

"And the voices, too." She mused, breaking out into a genuine smile the first time all evening. "They always keep me real good company."

"Yeah?" Isla's head bobbed, cupping his chin again. "Me too--me 'n you don't seem to be too different after all, baby."

"Never said that we weren't." She poked her tongue out a little bit, surveying the damage. "Never said that we were the same, either."

"We're not the same." He confirmed, curling his hand around her wrist as she held an alcohol pad above his cut. "We are not the same, Isla."

Her head tilted, trying to discern what he meant. But she couldn't, and it caused an uncomfortable shiver to flicker down her spine.

"This might hurt." She whispered in an attempt to dissipate the small tension, gently running her thumb over his chin.

The other was--alongside her pointer finger--tapping the small antiseptic against the wound. She frowned the more he winced, though Tig's smile and hold on her wrist was still present.

"I like the pain."

"I know you do, Tiger." Isla joked. But she couldn't help wondering how the fuck he managed to do this to himself tonight.

Why he would do this to himself tonight.

"I don't wanna have to stitch your pretty face up," she pursed her lips and got him to hold the cotton in place.

"You think I got a pretty face?"

"The prettiest." Her retort was instantaneous, missing that usual glint of something resembling a joke.

She was serious--she wasn't engaging in that usual banter with him today. She was too run down for it, actually.

"Gonna have to give you a couple of butterfly stitches, if that's okay?" Isla looked up at him, holding out the small bandages with a smile. "It won't hurt. And they'll probably dissolve in, like, a week or so."

"Go for it. I love when you play nurse."

She lightly whacked at his chest, laughing as she got him to sit on the closed toilet lid to get a better reach. He wasn't tall, but neither was she. Isla needed him to lower his height if she wanted to successfully repair him.

The comfort, the aid and assistance had him forgetting about tonight--had her forgetting the real reason for her impromptu arrival to the clubhouse--but not forgetting about the newfound misery that encircled SAMCRO.

"You alright?" He asked when she hadn't made a movement, when her eyes seemed to focus on the shelves above the tank of the toilet. "I can do it myself, if you don't wanna--"

"I wanna." The smile she produced was fake--uncomfortable as tears rolled down perfectly blushed cheeks.

It broke his heart. Everything she was doing and saying--and even feeling because her pain was palpable--was breaking his heart and Tig felt like hell for doing this.

"I'm sorry," she stuck the first stitch to his forehead carefully, getting him to rip off the back of the second because her fingers were too shaky to get a solid grip.

"Don't be." He handed it to her. "It's been a tough night."

Her laugh was humorless, dull. "You can say that again, Tiggy."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." She sent him an apologetic look, but he got it.

Isla trusted him with her life--for some reason--but she found it hard to open up sometimes. In regards to something this serious, she struggled to get a solid handle on her emotions and how to express them.

He understood her, though. Understood her well enough, her mannerisms and thought processes, and he just wondered if she felt like divulging her pain tonight.

She didn't, though. And Tig didn't particularly mind that. He didn't want to feel that twisted pang of regret, the vehement churn of his stomach whenever she said Donna's name--which she was yet to do, and she probably wouldn't at this point, either.

"I just wanna cry." She stated plainly, not even reluctantly anymore.

Like Gemma, he hadn't seen her cry for a long time. And it wasn't a nice visual, actually.

But he was supportive, and just wanted her to do anything that'd make her feel somewhat better--so he encouraged it.

Isla put everything down, gave his face the once over for the last time, and set herself on the tile with her back to the door.

"You wanna cry? Do it, baby. If it'll help, just do it." He assured, getting to the ground beside her. "I know you don't like doin' it in front of me, but I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want."

"You make me seem like a battle ax." Isla quipped, sniffling. "I don't care if anyone sees me cry--everyone knows that I do. It's just..."

"Showing vulnerability ain't a nice thought. I know."

God. She hated how well he understood her. How he knew what she was going to fucking say. All the time.

Tig wound an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Instinctively, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I get it." He stated mindlessly, pushing tousled blonde strands from her forehead. "But y'know you can always trust me, kid. I'll never tell anyone that you feel emotions--"

"I'm literally the most emotional person you all know." Isla protested weakly, hoping he didn't mind the feeling of her tears bleeding through his shirt.

He didn't.

"I just don't really like crying. It's not a true testament to my character--I'm supposed to be the happy one around these parts. The sickeningly optimistic Irish girl--"

"You can still be a crier, too."

"I know." She finally wrapped her arms around his middle as they sat together. "But people just don't take girls seriously when they cry. And I don't want my position here to be compromised, I guess. I don't want my dad, or Gemma, or Clay to think I can't handle being around the club anymore--because I can. And I always will."

"They wouldn't think different of you for that." He promised, rubbing circles over her shoulder the more he felt the navy cotton dampen. "This is a real tough thing, Isla, nobody is gonna chastise you for shedding a tear. They'd probably think different of you if you didn't cry."

"You think?"

He nodded.

"Crying shows that you got empathy and a heart. We all know your heart is bigger than..." Thick eyebrows crumpled together before he let out a little chuckle. "Bigger than Clay's ego. It's huge, your heart."

"Well, it's gotta be. If I wanna love all of you--warts 'n all--my heart has gotta be huge."

"Exactly," he drew out his response, earning a laugh and something reminiscent of an optimistic smile from her.

Trager never saw himself as the kind of man to make a girl smile or laugh after a little pep talk--after or before incredible sex, perhaps, but never as a result of his unusually comforting nature.

But he just had that effect on Isla--something she wasn't able to extrapolate verbally. Something she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to comprehend, either.

"You've just gotta try not to make yourself too vulnerable, that's all, 'cuz people will get used to coddling you. And I know that's now what you want."

"That's what I mean." She frowned, pulling herself away a bit. "I don't wanna be seen as inferior for being able to cry about the things that you, or Gem, or dad, are able to keep a poker face over. I'm just...I'm just thin-skinned sometimes, and I'm yet to be desensitized to this stuff, I guess."

"You're not thin-skinned for crying tonight." He scolded, knowing that she didn't want to elucidate her thoughts about the happening, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Desensitization don't mean shit when you've lost someone you care about--it's always gonna hurt, sweetheart. Always. And there ain't nothing you can do to stop that."

He was the one with misty eyes, now. He was the one trying to bite back tears, trying to conceal the spread of his sadness--the uncomfortable soreness in his chest. In his heart that wasn't anywhere near as big and full as hers.

"You're never gonna grow immune to grief--I promise you'll always feel that. Whether you show it--how you show it--is another thing, though."

"You feel it?"

"Tonight?"

"In general."

She couldn't seem to recall the last time that she saw him cry--if she'd ever seen it, actually. Aside from this moment, of course.

Tears fell to the apples of his cheeks and she, without any reluctance, used the pad of her thumb to brush them away.

And he got it, now. The idea of showing vulnerability being a fucking liability. Because the pity washing over her soft, beautiful features made him feel fragile.

"All the time. All the fuckin' time."

"It really never goes away?"

"No." Tig sniffed harshly, forcing a smile. "But you learn to cope. You learn that it ain't the end of the world and that life just goes on after death."

"Profound." She chuckled once again. "That's some deep, deep shit, Tigger. Almost made me forget about how much I wanna hysterically break down."

"Do it. That'll make me feel better about my injury."

"Your self-inflicted injury." Isla stated knowingly, but she didn't clarify just what she meant.

Because it could've been an array of things, but he liked to think that she was just referring to his little forehead aperture.

"I like it. It makes you look badass." Isla held a hand out to Tig when he pulled himself upward, and she wanted to follow suit.

"Does it make me look hot, too?"

"Absolutely." Again, it wasn't laced in a tease. It was honest, and the small smile she produced was sincere. "Be careful with it, though. Try not to get it wet or anything, because it'll dissolve too soon--"

"I've had them before, y'know?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Isla rolled her eyes. "You're a super scary, malicious, calculating guy when you've gotta be. But I know that you're accident prone."

He curled his eyebrow upward. "Scary?"

"Totally. I've seen you hold a gun to a guy's head." A chill impaired her, frightening her. "Shits terrifying, Tig. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"You couldn't even if you tried."

"You think?" Her qualm was unexpected, almost challenging him as she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway. "I think I could."

What's she playing at? She was sobbing two minutes ago.

Oh, I get it. This is her facade--actin' all care free, and shit.

Tig followed behind--every step--as she clicked along the wooden floor of the clubhouse.

"You couldn't. Trust me." He stated lowly, reaching for her hand when she stuttered a little.

Isla noticed her father next time Juice, drinking at the bar with their backs to the duo. She didn't want to see him, right now.

Talking to Chibs would've ignited whatever fucking fire inside of her that'd started to blaze out of control earlier tonight, and she'd worked hard to contain this inferno.

"What you can do, though, is turn your pretty little ass back around, and go get some rest in the dorm. It's been a long night."

She didn't refute, she didn't try to get out of it because she didn't want to. Isla couldn't bear the thought of waltzing past her father, talking to him about her tiny outburst, and resuming as normal.

Because she couldn't do that. Not tonight, anyway.

"Tig?"

"Uh huh." He responded, his eyes glued to the back of Juice's cut as he slammed yet another shot back.

Probably wondering what the fuck had gone down tonight.

"Can you stay with me?" Her retort forced his focus to land on her, and the defenselessness--sheer exposure--in her attitude.

It wasn't the simple fact of wanting to be alone.

She couldn't be alone. Not anymore.

Ringed fingers squeezed her hand reassuringly, guiding her into the back room, holding her close. Because that's what she really, truly wanted.

"'Course I can. Anything for you, Isla."

#tig trager #tig trager x oc #tig trager fic #tig trager fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy fanfiction

[cyllaeth]

when i’m at home

“... And she just came by the station and brought us coffee!”, Eddie grimaces, trying not to grit his teeth.

“Isn't it a nice gesture?”, Adriana asks; there's hint of amusement in her voice and she's not even trying to hide it. It's late evening; her kids are already in bed and so is Christopher which allows her to talk with her brother for a while. It's kinda their tradition—every few days they call each other—mostly via Skype—to catch up and check if everything's alright. She really enjoys it; the Diaz siblings has always been pretty close no matter how far away they have lived.

“It is. It's just... Why was she even at the station? I thought there's nothing between them. Not after that disaster of a date”, Eddie sighs. Seeing Buck chatting and laughing with Taylor Kelly at the end of their shift really put him in a bad mood. He still doesn't trust her especially around his best friend. He just knows that redhead reporter isn't the right person for Buck. Who repeatedly said he wants a serious relationship, not just a meaningless hookup.

And yet, he's still seeing her. It bothers Eddie so much he spilled out about it when Adriana asked what's up. He thought that it might help him calm down but he feels like he's just more angry than he has been earlier.

“Maybe they're just friends.”, Adriana suggests after a few moments of silence between them. She eyes him suspiciously. “Isn't it what Buck said anyway? That they're better off being friends?”

“Then why was she flirting with him for the whole she was there? Why did she bring him his favourite coffee?”. It's very clear that Eddie's annoyed that his sister isn't throwing insults at Buckley's not-so-new female friend.

“You flirt with him all the time and nobody says anything.”

Eddie freezes.

After what it feels like hours, he looks up at his sister. She has that odd, annoying smug on her face like she knows she's absolutely right and he has sudden urge to wipe it off. She just waits patiently for him to catch up what she said.

“I... What now?”

“You flirt with him all the time. And everyone is fine with it.”, she repeats very loud and clear.

“I don't”, Eddie scoffs. Has she gone mad and he hasn't noticed? He doesn't flirt with Buck, they're just best friends. They joke and bicker quite often but that's it. There's only friendly, platonic banter.

“Have you ever considered you might be in love with Buck?”, Adriana asks. Her question is serious even though Eddie sees the mischief in her eyes.

“Don't you think I would've noticed that I'm in love with my best friend?”, he answers with another question.

He really believes in that. He's been in love once in his life and it was Shannon. And he was definitely aware of his feelings. He still remembers first nervous glances, shy smiles and stuttering. He remembers first touches and kisses and how he had felt butterflies in his stomach. He also recalls their arguments, make-up sex and tears when they'd been hurting each other. Even when Shannon had re-appeared in his life, he was fully aware he still loved her. So if he did love Evan, he'd know. He thinks. He's so lost in thoughts, he doesn't hear his sister's rambling.

“Edmundo!”, she practically yells at him to bring back his attention. It seems to be working so she decides to share her honest opinion. “Eddie, we've been talking for almost an hour now, you had a date with Ana—like yesterday—and you didn't say a word about it. We're only talking about Buck. You're so pissed off because you saw him again with the girl he'd hooked up with in the past. And for me it's pretty telling. You're jealous.”

There's a silence on Eddie's side of the screen. In fact, he's utterly speechless. Adriana's words are ringing in his ears like a fucking bell. Jealous. Is is really jealousy what's been eating him since his friend had reconnected with Taylor?

“Look”, his sister bites her lip as if she's not sure if she should go on. Eventually, she does. “I'm not laughing or mocking you. I love you and I want everything what's best for you. I know you've had a rough couple of years dealing with all that shit with our parents, Shannon dying, tsunami and pandemic and yet, I've never seen you happier. You literally light up when you talk about Chris and Buck. You mention him all the time. You've never trusted Shannon the way you trust Buck with Chris and she was his mother. You two practically live together—last time we talked he was tucking Chris in after he spend the whole afternoon cooking dinner and watching movies with you two. It's something I do with my husband, not with my friends even if I love them. I've only seen glimpses of your life and I'm pretty sure you two love each other.”

Eddie listens. He pays attention to every word that coming out from Addie's mouth. It's hard to admit it but she's right. Buck has stopped being only a guest in his house a long time ago. Lately he's here almost all the time—either babysitting Chris while Eddie's on a date with Ana or just hanging out with the two of them because he doesn't feel comfortable in his own apartment. The thing is, Eddie likes having him around. He enjoys lazy mornings that smell like Buck's famous pancakes and coffee made by Hildy (Buck still teases him about it); he's also very fond of all evenings filled with laughter when they accidentally fall asleep on the couch and wake up in the middle of the night tangled up together. Being this close has never been awkward to them. At this point—Eddie realises—it's more awkward when there's an actual space between them. And, of course, he notices how attractive his friend is. He must've been blind not to see it. It's not like he's the only one who knows that Buck's eyes look like the cloudless sky in the middle of the summer when he's happy and get so dark they look like an stormy ocean, right?

He freezes again for a moment.

“Addie, I'm a little too old to have a sexuality crisis, don't you think?”, he asks but Adriana only laughs. He's not even offended by it because it's kinda hilarious. He would've laughed if somebody told him that he's gonna question his sexuality because of something his sister had said. “What if... What about our family? Parents?”

“You mean if you two get together?” Eddie nods. “I don't think you need to worry about it”, Adriana smiles brightly. “Our mom's wondering—and I quote—when will Edmundo bring back to El Paso that charming friend of his?”

“And so are we!”, Sophia chimes in, appearing suddenly behind Adriana.

“Dios Mío, have you been here the whole time?” Eddie groans when he sees both of his sisters grinning. He's royally fucked now. He knows them well and he's sure they won't forget about anything he has said tonight and will tease him mercilessly. There's a reason why Buck instantly hit it off when he met Diaz sisters. Sophia only nods and winks at him before she disappears again.

“Aunt Pepa loves him and don't even get me started with Abuela. Buck's her favourite grandchild, she gave him half of her secret recipes and he's not even officially Diaz yet!”, Adriana exclaims, pretending to be offended. Then, she adds. “And you certainly don't have to worry about Christopher. The kid loves Buck more than anyone. I'm not even sure if you're still his favourite adult.”

Eddie glares at her but there's a smile on his lips. He's not even slightly surprised that his son adores Buck so much. Honestly, Evan Buckley is his favourite adult too.

—☾—

Adriana's words are still stuck in his head days later when he's at home after another long, exhausting shift. Christopher is already here, doing his homework and Buck—Buck is here too. They're in the kitchen, preparing dinner together. Or it's rather Buck cooking and Eddie trying to steal food.

“Hey, quit snacking and cut the vegetables”, Buck orders and Eddie can't help but smile.

“I love you”, he blurts out. He didn't even think about it, it just escaped from his mouth.

It's Buck's turn to freeze.

Eddie looks at him and realises what he said. He's not panicking; he just feels happy, perfectly comfortable. At peace.

“I love you”, he says it again and suddenly he's in Buck's space. He just leans in and kisses him. Buck's definitely surprised but he only needs a moment to catch up what's going on. He responds very eagerly and kisses him back.

Eddie thinks it's a wonderful feeling. Now he knows that sometimes love doesn't hit like a wave, rapidly and intensively. Sometimes it just sneaks up quietly and patiently, like a river, taking piece by piece. He doesn't mind it.

“You're still cutting vegetables”, Buck says when they break apart. His eyes are full of joy and he's grinning—and Eddie wants to see him like this everyday. “And for the record, I love you too, Diaz.”

Eddie sends Adriana you were right hours later when he's already in bed, Buck curled up next to him. She responds almost immediately I know and he just smiles again.

—☾—

Link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30453828

(Title stolen shamelessly from band called The Maine, I highly recommend listen to that song, it fits Buddie so much ✨

#911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #911 fic #buddie fic #lucy writes #lucy's attempt to write #no beta we die like doug #in this house we stan diaz sisters #adriana and sophia are national treasure #just like christopher #it's shitty #i know i know #buddie drabble

[anaiswriterr]

Evil Lives Here

Pairing: Kirishima x Reader

Rating: T

Warning: This story contains the following subjects that may not be suitable for younger audiences or those who don’t like scary things: murder, blood, gore, language, and emotional feelings. Please be aware of you are easily triggered from these kinds of things and enjoy.

Synopsis: You press your hand hard against the cold glass shield that divides the two of you. Burning hot tears swell up in your eyes, you press a picture of a girl, a young girl who was brutally murdered and found in the woods. Clutching onto the jail phone in your separate hand, desperately attempting to catch your breath. You mutter out the words no wife should ever mutter, “Eijirou Kirishima... did you - do this t-to her?” Your voice wavers, eyes stinging to catch his reaction to the crime scene photo. He’s emotionless, “No.” He couldn’t of done this, there is not possible explanation.. he’s innocent. When the love of your life, the father of your two year old daughter, your best friend ends up being a mass serial killer you suddenly realize the man you solemnly swore to love till death was living a double life.

- evil lives here - screamtober series part two -

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•

•

•

“Do you, Y/N L/N, take Eijirou Kirishima, to be your solemnly wedded husband; through sickness and in health, for poorer or richer till death do you two part?”

The memory swirls in your head, hand in hand with your longtime boyfriend, now husband. Freshly graduated from high school, with barley any money you wore a cheap dress from the nearby thrift store, it was short, tailored just above your knees. The nervous sweat softened your hands against his rough ones. 

“Yes.” You said in a soft whisper. 

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel, you wipe a tear away from your soft skin. Lightly tapping away the stray tears with a tissue, throwing the crumpled piece away at the dash. “Who are you here to visit?” The operator in the Prison Reform entrance asked tiredly, wiping the sleep off his eyes and taking a sip of his cup of coffee. But you didn’t blame him, neither of you wanted to be there especially this early in the morning. 

“Prisoner Eijirou Kirishima, I-I’m his wife.” You duck your head down in shame, after refusing to visit after months and months of healing. You needed to know, at  least for yourself. He gives you a quick stare, later pressing a button to open the gateway. You step on the gas and proceed to enter the parking lot. 

Your hand bare without the wedding ring you wore for years on end, a marriage he ruined. A family he tore apart with reckless actions and lies, a two faced snake this entire time. Living with a monster, loving a monster. Making love to a seemingly loving, caring man. 

You lay your head against the wheel, turning off the ignition. 

“Say cheese, Ruby!” You cheer, counting down the seconds for the cameras timer to go off. “Happy birthday, munchkin!” Kirishima exclaims, pressing a small kiss to her forehead. The flashing light just capturing the happiness in that moment with a single polaroid that joined the cases of other polaroid's that you swore you’d organize into a scrapbook one day. Your daughter clapped her hands in excitement, your lips form a small ‘O’ as you and Eijirou help her blow out the candles, an assortment of cheers and whoops come from the audience of her family. Katsuki Bakugou, her godfather and uncle, is invited to take a separate photo with her in his lap. A small smile creeps onto his lips, allowing the soft spot he carried for his niece to envelop him as he held onto her tiny frame. Laughing at her giggles. 

The golden days of your youth often involved your days with Eijirou, someone you met in your years of primary school. Though you were bullied by some of the other kids, Eijirou found you in particular interesting and fun. Befriending you in nearly a day, which meant you were befriended by Mina, Sero, Kaminari, and oddly enough Bakugou. Eijirou, was different. The one to walk you home to make sure you made it back safe, to make sure you had food, to give homeless people the extra pocket change he had or buy them a meal, he wasn’t the smartest but the most caring. Never a killer, a serial killer at that.

Psychology states that when a person murders it’s a chemical imbalance in their head, the need for more. The need to keep hunting the prey that walked around at night, alone, wishing to go home to their families. They all say he said the same thing, the survivors, those who instead of accepting the fate of death instead chose to fight for their lives and manage to get away. He said the same thing.

“Suspect number one, may you please come forward and repeat the lines that were just previously mentioned.” An officer orders, standing protectively beside a shaking young girl, probably in her late teens. Her hands cold and clammy, pressed against one another.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not get in the car with strangers?”

She’s nods her head no, and the officer asks the next person to move forward. The voices don’t match a single one until, Eijirou Kirishima steps up. How did he get in that suspect line, he didn’t know. I mean sure, his friends teased that he looked awfully alike to the description - but those were just jokes - nobody really took it seriously.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not get in the car with strangers?”

A panic arose in the girl, nearly jumping off her feet she points. “That man, his voice, it’s him!” She accuses. Not even a minute later Eijirou is placed in handcuffs and escorted towards a holding cell awaiting trial.

You should’ve just taken the first sign and packed your bags, but they say love can blindside you from the truth. And the truth was Eijirou Kirishima was the serial killer that roamed the dark alleys of Japan, living a two faced life. One where he shared with his wife and a beautiful daughter, and the other, preying on the weak. You huff, rubbing your tired, aching eyes. Eyeing the folder a detective handed to you in hopes you’d get something - anything - out of the liar you called husband. The bland folder sitting on top your passenger seat, mocking you with the content inside. The sudden urge to throw up washes over you, you’ve seen those pictures a million times, it’s practically burned into your memory. But this one, the only picture that sat inside the skinny - nearly empty - folder would haunt nearly anyone. You take one last deep breath, and step outside.

The hot, humid, October weather brushed over your skin as you lean forward to retrieve your purse, keys, and the folder. “Make this quick, Y/N.” You mutter, shutting and locking the car door behind you. If there was one thing that Kirishima taught you, it was that you should always lock your doors, and move quickly. You always thought that he meant it to be something sweet, that he cared about your safety. Instead, it was just something he knew most working and busy woman never really took into consideration. Each step feels like your walking on cracking thin ice, liar.

The fuming burning hot anger.

Wake up! This has to be some sort of dream, some nightmare, the lies. The piling lies and deception, an affair you believed. For months you believed he was having an affair, but instead, you learn the awful truth. An affair you could handle, something fixable. But murder, his daughter is known as the child of a killer. You wish you could hit him, kick him, anything. It dwells on you that maybe you he was always like this.

And yet you were the exception - along with many other of his friends - you stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Clutching onto the folder, you steady your breathing.

***

bzzzzzz

“Visitor for Prisoner Eijirou Kirishima, serial code 0926.” They call him down, chewing on the inside of your cheek you wait patiently behind a call booth. Tear stricken stained face and raging eyes. Your foot taps against the metal tile beneath you, until your breath is caught.

In a bright orange jumpsuit, his hands are handcuffed together and his ankles are chained to him. You duck your head down into you sleeve in shame, in disgust, but him, he had on a huge grin as he laughed off a joke the guard seemed to tell. He holds out his wrists in front of him before being seated and was uncuffed from the tight metal restrains. You watch him slowly reach out for the phone on his end, the grin he wore still as intoxicating as when he was just a teenager.

Psychopaths don’t have much emotion. 

Except for the inappropriate emotions at inappropriate times they invoke out into the world. 

You don’t immediately reach out for the phone, your mind is wondering off to when the loud banging of the front door woke up your daughter from her sleep after being sick for a week - she hadn’t gotten much sleep and neither did you for the fact of the matter - the loud screams from her room as police officers nearly broke down your door. Red and blue flashing lights dance across the walls of the living room as they peered through the cracks of the window blinds. 

You are brought back to the sounds of three taps against the glass. You reach towards the phone hesitantly, the cord following behind as you pressed it to your ear.

“Please! My husbands innocent! He’d never hurt another person!” You cried as he was pushed into a patrol car, your daughter screaming for her father. “Ma’am, this man isn’t who he says he is.” 

“Long time no see.. where your ring?” His voices makes you seize in the cool metal chair, his cool and calm demeanor taunts you. “I’m not here to make conversation, Kirishima.” You hiss. He ignores your warning glares and smirks, “It’s been a couple months, and I haven’t seen my daughter Y/N. I just want to see my family, I want to see you-” 

“Cut the bullshit, as long as I’m alive you’ll never see Ruby again!” 

You huff pushing passed the tears that pooled at the corners of your eyes, he stares into your  glossy E/C ones. “Where’s Ruby?” 

“Bakugou’s babysitting her.” 

“Somebody else is babysitting my kid, what let me guess you guys are hanging out with each other more? I knew you’d eventually sleep with him.” 

“Shut the fuck up! I haven’t done anything with him, he’s just being a a father figure Ruby needs not some psychopathic liar.” 

He chuckles, “I told you, I didn’t do it.” You slam your hand o the glass in frustration, pressing your hand hard against the cold glass shield that divides the two of you. Burning hot tears swell up in your eyes, you take out the printed imagine in the folder and press a picture of a girl, a young girl who was brutally murdered and found in the woods. Clutching onto the jail phone in your separate hand, desperately attempting to catch your breath. You mutter out the words no wife should ever mutter, “Eijirou Kirishima... did you - do this t-to her?” Your voice wavers, eyes stinging to catch his reaction to the crime scene photo. He’s emotionless, “No.” 

“Hey! Do you need a ride?” A man calls from his car, looking at the young girl who’s barley pushing eighteen. She nods, “I’m kinda lost! I just moved here, do you know where I can find the nearest payphone?” A smirk forms on the adults face, he unlocks his passenger side door, he adjusts his baseball cap. 

“Hop in.” He pats his passenger seat, the young girl was so desperate to hitch a ride she was willing to jump into any trustworthy looking person she could find; Kirishima was handsome and his face painted trust and caring. But inside those deceiving eyes were a need to kill. They pass by the payphone after a five minuet ride, “Hey, I think you passed the-” 

“I know.” He smiles, turning the steering wheel into the direction of the nearby woods. 

“What are yo-”

A chuckle escapes him lips, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not get in cars with strangers?”

TAGLIST: @pavlovs-titties​ @explosivefireworks​ @utopiamiroh​ @hikaru-mikazuki​ @strangethingsatthecirclek​ @myheroesaretired​

Next: Aizawa x Reader - Tag You’re It

#Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #mha x reader #mha #mha headcanons #my hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #bnha fluff #bnha angst #bnha smut #eijirou kirishima #kirishima ejirou #kirishima x reader fluff #kirishima smut #kirishima fanart #kirishima x reader smut #bnha kinktober #mha kinktober

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 01 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.1 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

Next part (02) ->

{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Deceit

Life has a weird way of turning things around. Of putting people in the most unlikely scenarios, and leaving them on their own to try and figure out what to do next.

Keanu's mind has been restless since the moment he saw the bleeding, unconscious girl inside that wreck of a car, four days ago.

It was on the side of the empty road, and he was just about to drive pass it when something made him stop. Whoever caused it was gone, and there were no words to describe the sting on his chest when he saw her. The next moments happened in such a blur that he still has a hard time trying to put everything together. He remembers carefully lifting the girl's body off the wheel. He remembers checking her heartbeats, so faint and weak. And he surely remembers calling an ambulance and staying there, hoping, praying she wouldn't be just a corpse when they got there.

He couldn't quite see the extension of the damage since he was too scared to move her around. The girl wouldn't wake up, it didn't matter how many times he called, and as time passed, minutes passing by impossibly slow, he felt his heart sinking. Over and over again, he placed two fingers on her neck, just to make sure she was still alive. Her breathing was shallow and fast, and Keanu couldn't even notice in his agitation. There was way too much blood coming from a wound on her forehead, and more staining her light blue blouse. He couldn't believe he'd watch her die, right there before his eyes.

A wave of relief washed over him when the ambulance came, and he watched, helplessly, as they put her on the stretcher, pushing it to the back of the ambulance. A man had spoken to him, he's not sure what, but his legs carried him to the ambulance with her, and there, seated between two paramedics, he looked at the girl, once again praying she'd survive the ride.

She did. She was strong, the doctors said, and had successfully recovered from the two surgeries she had to go through. There was a lot of internal bleeding, they said, and now, the girl was in a coma. And nobody could tell how long it'd take for her to wake up.

But that was four days ago. Today, still at the hospital, Keanu tries to focus on whatever the council of doctors are saying. He had paid for everything, and he wouldn't have anything less than the best health care for the girl. (Y/N), he had found out. A beautiful name, that he thought suited the girl perfectly. Seated on the head of the table, Doctor Wright speaks of her condition, but Keanu's mind has drifted away a while ago.

“Mr. Reeves?” The woman, Alice Harris, gets his attention. She's the psychologist involved. The only reason why she's here is that there was damage on (Y/N)'s brain. There's a sixty percent chance that her memories were affected. They don't know how much yet, but they'll be ready to deal with whatever happens when she finally opens her eyes again. If she ever does. But Keanu won't give this possibility any thoughts. “Are you willing to do this?”

“Do what?” He didn't want to come out as not being interested in this. He was. But he can't pretend he knows what he would be agreeing with.

“Mr. Reeves, I know you're also affected by this. We all can see it. But we need you to have your mind clear.” The surgeon speaks, his hands cupped together, lying above (Y/N)'s papers. “If not, we'll place her under our care until we can contact her mother-in-law.”

“Mother-in-law?” How much of the conversation did Keanu lose?

“Let me.” Dr. Wright says. “Mr. Reeves, we have made some research on our patient's life. (Y/N) had just moved here, and unfortunately, she lost her husband only two weeks ago in a work-related accident.” This time, Keanu pays attention, his eyes focused on the man. “The only other person she has here is a friend named Laura Thompson, and her mother-in-law lives in Argentina, Lucia Davis. A few friends from her hometown, but nobody else. Nobody here who can help her through... Her condition.”

“There's still a chance she'll remember, right? Forty percent.” Keanu could only imagine what it'd be like. He'd never wished that on anyone, waking up one day with nothing inside. No record of who you were before. And he didn't want this for her. Not after what she's been through. “If she's alright then–”

“It wasn't about this condition I was talking about.” He cuts off, sighing and exchanging a glance with the neurologist. “Mr. Reeves, (Y/N) is three weeks pregnant.”

There's a sudden buzz on Keanu's ears, as his brain tries to process what he just heard. He's quick to make the math though. Three weeks pregnant, lost her husband two weeks ago... She was just starting to plan everything, probably just about to break the news to him or the family, and then, he died. That was probably the reason for her accident. Driving fast, tears clouding her sight, wondering what she'd do now, all alone, with a kid on the way. “Everything you need me to do, I will. I'll pay for anything she needs, it doesn't matter how much.” The words flow out, almost a living thing.

“Dr. Harris raises a hand to stop Dr. Wright, who was just about to say something. “Mr. Reeves, as we already said, we fear that our patient will have some kind of memory loss if she wakes up. And people on her position are always scared, and the feeling of being lost may drive them into self-destructive behaviors.” The woman speaks slow, and Keanu sighs. He's suddenly angry, wanting people to just spit everything out so he can understand what's going on and decide what to do with it. Bouncing his leg under the table, he nods, urging her to continue. “In that scenario, knowing about a pregnancy can make things take a bad turn, and even put the unborn child in danger.”

“What will you have me do?” He bursts out, impatiently. “If you need another specialist, or transfer her to some other hospital, do it.”

“What we need is far more complicated than that.” She continues. “A little unusual, but I believe it will work.” She takes a deep breath, fixing her glasses. “Mr. Reeves, we need you to introduce yourself as being (Y/N)'s husband.”

“What?” He inquires, unable to believe his ears.

“If she wakes up–”

“When.” Keanu is quick to correct her, his voice letting it show how anxious he is.

“When, forgive me.” Dr. Harris mutters. “It will be better if she has someone close. And a husband, since she's with child, will certainly give her peace of mind until... Until she remembers. If she remembers and if she does have a memory loss in the first place.”

Keanu looks down at his hands, resting on the wooden table before him. He should say no. This is way too much, too much of a crazy idea to follow up. But these are the best doctors money could pay for, and he did say he'd do anything that could help her. But he'd never thought this would be what she needed. There was no other option to him, that much was obvious, even if he didn't want to admit it right way. “Alright then.” He agrees, nodding.

“Good. We'll contact her friend and mother-in-law to let them know about this.” Dr. Wright says, getting up. “I'll need you to attend some meetings, Mr. Reeves, there will be some things we'll need to discuss.”

“Sure.” As if he hasn't been coming to the hospital every day to visit the girl.

The days start passing a little faster now, as Keanu meets up with the psychologist to make things ready in case she wakes up. They said there's no need to rush, that it may take several weeks, months even... But Keanu won't share their skepticism. He believes she's coming back soon, so he'll have everything in place for the biggest lie he'd ever tell. He has the excuses in place, the backstory, everything. He even has the fake ring already, and he never felt so bad as he did when buying it. But still, he carries it in his pocket every time he goes visit her, hoping she'll wake up.

Two weeks have passed, and today, as usual, Keanu looks through the open blinders, his eyes set on her sleeping figure. (Y/N) looks so peaceful in his eyes, as if she's simply sleeping. He can't help but admire her beauty, even in a simple hospital gown, with her hair a little messy, she looks pretty. His eyes drift a little, all the way to her stomach. It's still flat, but he knows there's life in there, growing. A life that will need their mother. “C'mon, (Y/N). Wake up.” Keanu mutters, his voice barely a whisper.

After a few more minutes, he leaves, walking slowly through the hospital, all the way to his car in the underground parking lot. On the drives seat, he looks at the wheel, the door still open, and he thinks. About everything at the same time. The wrecked car, the blood, the girl, the pregnancy, the lie... It all comes flooding his mind as he runs a hand through his dark hair. He's so drowned in his head that he almost doesn't hear the phone ring. But when he does, Keanu easily finds it in his pocket, not even looking at the screen before picking up. “Hello.” He mutters, ready to dismiss whoever it is. He needs to go home, to sleep, to put his mind in place.

“Mr. Reeves. She's awake.”

You still can't put things together. The woman has been talking you through it since yesterday morning when you crawled back into consciousness. She told you everything. How you ended up here, to begin with, but it doesn't matter how hard you try, you can't remember it. In fact, you can't remember anything. When you began to freak out yesterday, a nurse came and gave you something that now forced you to calm down. So you just lie there, staring at Dr. Harris as she tries to help you. But she's failing because your mind is completely empty. The tears keep rolling down, one after the other, and it doesn't matter how much you dry them, more come soon after.

How is it even possible? How can someone lose everything they were? Everything they had? Shaking your head no, you close your eyes shut, not wanting to listen anymore. Her questions remain unanswered because you just don't know the answer them. The only reason you know your name and age is because she told you. But all the rest... It's a mystery. It's gone.

“I can't.” You mutter, running a hand through your forehead. “I can't remember. You're not helping.” Crying again, you bite back a sob. “Please, just... Don't I have anyone? Parents? Friends? Anyone... I...” You can't be alone in the world. There has to be someone, a familiar face who will bring something back.

“You're parents passed away when you were young, sweetie.” She says, and another sob erupts from your mouth. “But you have a husband.”

You're not sure how you feel about it, with too many conflicted sentiments flooding your heart. But you do feel... Relieved? You're not alone. There's someone who could help you through, who knows you. “I-is he here?” You stutter. “Can I see him?”

“Sure.” She stands up from the armchair she positioned next to your bed. “I'll call him.”

Nodding, your eyes are on her back as she leaves. Using the bed's remote control, you move it up until you're in a seating position. The minutes go by and you're still alone. The blinders are closed, so you can only see shadows passing by. Maybe he got tired of waiting. Maybe he–.

“(Y/N).” The strong, deep voice calling your name gets your attention, and your eyes find the man standing some feet away from the bed. He's... Gorgeous. Tall, with long dark hair, which falls on his face, hiding his eyes a little. His beard gives him an atmosphere of mystery but makes him even more handsome.

Is that him? Are you really married to this man? “Are you...” The words fail you, and your voice fades.

“I'm Keanu Reeves. Your husband.”

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #imagine keanu reeves #keanu reeves #john wick imagine #john wick fanfiction #john wick x reader

[electronicgrowth]

Can’t Get Enough Part 8

The two most stubborn people in Knockemstiff, Ohio have eyes for only each other. Lee Bodecker is determined to become the town’s next sheriff. He knows that image is everything. Billie Dechswaan doesn’t care about her image at all. All she wants is to leave Knockemstiff and never come back. But Lee has other plans for her. Both are far too stubborn to give up their own plans. What happens when they can’t get enough of each other? 

A/N: So, this is a long one. If I’m honest, I’ve lost a lot of my vigor for this story. I still have quite a bit of story written, so maybe I’ll find the inspiration again. But if I’m totally honest.... I’m wildly depressed. Like barely functioning. I’m going to keep posting what I already have written, but I’m not sure if I’ll finish what I had initially planned out. 

That day started like any other for Lee Bodecker. He awoke with a headache. A consequence of drinking too much the night before. He peeled himself out of his bed, before stumbling to the bathroom for a shower. He was disappointed. Nearly a week since John passed and Billie had yet to show her face. Maybe she didn’t care. Maybe she really had cut off all contact with her family. Maybe she even found a new guy and had already given him a whole bunch of babies. 

The last thought made Lee feel nauseous. And not in the hangover kind of way. 

After the shower, Lee shaved. He may feel like a mess but he couldn’t show it. Then he proceeded to pick up the beer bottles from the counter and dispose of them. He liked the house clean when he got home. Even if he just proceeded to make the same mess all over again. 

He made his way to work. Nobody at the station greeted him. It was a well-known fact that Sheriff Bodecker was not a morning person. Lee was able to enjoy two cups of coffee while he did some paperwork. The morning passed without incident. Miss Edna, the receptionist came in at exactly noon with more paperwork for Lee, a fresh cup of coffee and a sandwich. She’d worked at the station for 30 years. And no matter who the sheriff was, she always made him a sandwich for lunch. Edna was the glue that kept the station running. No one dared talk back to her, not even Lee.

After lunch, Tim Mitchell rushed into Lee’s office. Not even stopping at his desk. 

“You alright, Mitchell?” Lee asked the deputy. 

“Yes sir,” he responded, “Thought you’d wanna know I dropped Sylvie and the baby off at her mama’s house this morning.”

“Why would I need to know that?” Lee hissed. 

“Joy had a vistor. One I think you would be very interested in seeing.” 

“Billie?” Could it be? Lee didn’t dare let himself hope.

“Yes, but I think the person with her might be of more interest to you.” 

A husband? A boyfriend?

“Just spit it out,” Lee groaned in annoyance. 

“Billie had a little girl with her,” Tim answered, “She’s probably about four. Thought you’d wanna know.” 

Lee was shocked. So, that letter Billie had sent him about losing the baby wasn’t true after all. A four-year-old. She had to be Lee’s. That meant that Lee was a father. Of a child. Not a baby. He was utterly gobsmacked. 

“Thank you, Mitchell,” he dismissed. Mitchell nodded before exiting the office. Lee took a moment, not to collect his thoughts, no. A moment to collect his jacket and run out the door to tell the undersheriff that he was leaving and not to disturb him. Lee sped to the Dechswaan farm. He broke every traffic law. It was a good thing that he was sheriff. 

He practically ran from his car to the door. Lee proceeded to pound on the door with his fist four times. Not caring if he was rude. He was here for something that belonged to him. 

She opened the door as Lee resumed his pounding. He looked shocked that she’d open the door. Almost like he didn’t believe she was really here. He was dressed in his sheriff’s uniform. He’d gained a bit of weight since she last saw him, he was still handsome though. And Lee surveyed how much curvier Billie was too. She really looked like a woman.

“Let’s go for a walk, Lee,” she said before he could speak. She closed the door and walked down the porch. She marched through the yard, arms crossed. He followed silently, he was fuming. And yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The way she swayed as she walked. Lee let her lead him all the way to the barn before saying anything. 

“Okay, talk,” he commanded. 

“What do you want me to say?” Billie asked, turning to him but keeping her distance from him.

“Tim said you had a little girl with ya,” Lee accused. 

“I do. My daughter.”

“How old is she?”

“Four.” 

Lee nodded and tenses his jaw, “So, she’s mine then?” 

“Yeah,” Billie conceded, no emotion on her beautiful face. 

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me? You said you miscarried,” Lee muttered, feeling betrayed. 

“Because you are a steamroller. And heaven help anyone who gets in your way, Lee. I wasn’t about to let you take away all my options. I owed it to myself to try my hand in New York.” Her face was scrunching up in angry. 

“And you owed it to me to tell me about my kid!” 

“You think I don’t know that? I regret it everyday, but I can’t take back the past now!” She shouted. 

“That’s it? That’s all you regret?” Lee countered, stepping closer to her.

“Of course not,” Billie scoffs, rolling her eyes and turning away from Lee. But he was quick to grab her, pull her back towards him. 

“What then? What do you regret,” he growls, his face just inches from hers. Her eyes flicked down to his lips. She swayed closer. Lee thought, for just a moment, that she might try to kiss him. But she regained her composure and met his eyes once again.

“Alright, you listen here Lee Bodecker. I’m only gonna say this once,” she begins quietly, “I was wrong. And you were right. I should never have left. And I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, sugar,” Lee laughs bitterly, releasing his grip on her arm, “I’m definitely gonna make you say that all again.” 

Billie crosses her arms, and smirks at him. 

“I knew you’d say that,” she says, “Good thing I’m prepared to beg.” He’s shocked at her tone, she’s toying with him. She knows just what buttons to push to get him right where she wants him. He knows he’ll be putty in her hands soon enough, he’ll give her anything she asks for. But she deserves a little punishment for all the years he was forced to live without her.

“And why was it a mistake, sugar?” He coaxes. 

“There are a lot of reasons it was a mistake,” she counters, looking at her hands, picking at her cuticles. 

“Tell me,” Lee demands. 

“Well, no one in New York wants some hick with an accent teaching their kids. I got a useless degree. And I surely know how to pick my men. The first boy I ever went on a date with tried to rape me months later with his buddies. You got me pregnant on purpose. And the one I dated to try and forget you used me as his personal punching bag.”

“He hit you?” 

“It’s been awful, Lee. I-I can’t do anything right. I always think I’m making the right decision, but it’s always the wrong one. And if you want me to say it then I will. I’m at rock bottom. And I shouldn’t have left you,” she murmurs. 

“Why?” Lee challenges. 

“You know why.” 

“No, tell me.”

“The biggest mistake was thinking I could stay away from you. But don’t think for one minute that it’s because I need you.”

“Then why can’t you stay away if you don’t need me,” Lee narrows his eyes. 

“B-because I love you,” she mutters the sentence so quietly Lee almost couldn’t hear her. 

“You love me?” He smirks. 

“Yeah,” she shakes her head. 

“Alright darlin’. I’m gonna tell you how this will go.”

“Alright.” 

“We’re going to the courthouse tonight and making this official. I don’t care if I have to haul the judge in myself. When people ask, we’ll say we reconnected recently and decided to keep it small given the circumstances.” 

“Just like I said, you’re a steamroller,” Billie chuckled, “You think you have all the power. But I know what you’ve been doing here.”

“Oh yeah,” Lee challenged, “What have I been doing?”

“I heard all about Sandy and Carl, and you killing Leroy Brown and you taking bribes,” Billie spat. 

“Well, we’ve both made mistakes. I’ve only done what I’ve done for you. To provide for you. I take those bribes because it makes me more money,” Lee yelled. 

“And you got yourself in some hot water in the process. I heard you even fucking got shot. Do you know what that was like for me? I nearly came home when I heard that, I thought you were going to die. You need to be more careful Lee,” Billie shot back.

Billie realized that she had Lee right where she wanted him. He was her ticket away from Larry. He was more than capable of protecting her from that bastard. And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want him. Billie walked forward to Lee and pushed him up against the side of the barn. She looked up at him with her big doe eyes. 

“Do you love me, Lee?” She asked, pressing her body against his. 

“Do you love me?” He countered, suspicious of her. 

“I do. I really love you,” she whispered, her hands rubbing down his chest and stomach until she cupped his cock through his pants, “So, let me tell you how this is gonna go. We’ll go to the courthouse when I’m ready. You’re not going to punish me for leaving even though I know you really want to.” She undoes his belt and pants, her hand slips into his underwear and she grips his cock, slowly jacking him off. His head lolls back to hit the barn wall. “You are going to be more careful going forward. No fights that involve guns. You are not getting shot again. Because you’re gonna have a wife and a baby that need you.” Lee groans, eyes shut, enjoying her hands on him for the first time in five years. “I’ll let you fuck me raw. Let you get me pregnant again. I’ll give you all the babies you want. I bet you would like that wouldn’t you, honey?” Lee nods pathetically. Her hand is moving up and down his length at a brutal pace, Lee jerks his hips, chasing the pleasure. “But you have to protect me. And you’re going to give me anything I want.” Billie leans up and licks Lee’s neck. “You’ll give me a nice house and pretty dresses. And I’ll just be at home all day, dripping for you. Waiting for you to come home and fuck me so good. Keep me full of you. Don’t you wanna be inside me, Lee?” Lee groans loudly. Billie sucks a hickey into Lee’s neck, and forces his lips down to meet hers. “I’m gonna help you become mayor one day, so just tell me you love me. And I can make all that happen for ya.” 

“Shit, baby. I love you so fucking much,” Lee grunts, his arms locking Billie against him, “Don’t leave me again.” 

“I promise I won’t,” she gasped, as she started to get down on her knees, but Lee grabbed her elbow and kept her upright. He grabbed her and slammed her against the barn. He caged her in and caught her lips. He holds onto her waist like he may never let her go. Her tongue is everywhere. It’s becomes clear to Lee that Billie is just as desperate for him as he is for her. Billie pulls away, panting for air and stares into Lee’s eyes. All he can see is how much she loves him, and he wonders if she sees the same thing in his eyes. He bends down to pick her up, her legs wrap around him. With one arm he holds her up, with the other he moves her panties to the side and grips his cock, preparing to plunge inside her. He rubs his length against her slit for a moment. Then rapidly shoves himself inside. He’s brutally fucking into her and she’s a mess. Desperate for anything he’ll give her. 

“Lee,” she whined. He smirked. 

“You like that baby?” he teased. She nodded. 

“You feel so good,” she cried, her head lolled back to hit the wall of the barn. Lee can see in her eyes that she’s totally lost in pleasure. Her eyes are unfocused and glazed over. He continues to pummel in and out of her.

“Did he fuck you like this?” He growled into her neck.

“He never fucked me,” she moaned, “I wouldn’t let him.”

“Why?” He teased.

“B-because….” 

“Because why?” He was just being cruel trying to get coherent answers at of her at this moment.

“Because I only ever wanted you.” If there was one sentence that ever made Lee’s cock so hard and warmed his heart so much it was that sentence. 

“Honey,” he murmured forcing her to pay attention to him, slowing his thrusts, “tell me that you love me.” 

“I love you so much, Lee,” she sobbed. 

“You gonna cum, honey?” He asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Play with your clit,” he demands. Billie is quick to comply. Her fingers skate down between them to find her clit and she rubs circles against herself. Lee speeds up again. 

“What do you want, baby?” 

“I want your cum, Lee. Please give it to me.” Lee wasn’t about to leave his girl hanging, as soon as she begins to tighten around him, he lets himself go. He comes inside her with a grunt of her name. She’s quick to follow, letting out a high pitched shriek. 

He pants against her lips, before taking out a handkerchief from his back pocket. He wipes off his cock and cleans between her legs and shoves the handkerchief into his back pocket. Billie leaned up against the side of the barn, desperately trying to catch her breath. 

“You want to meet your daughter?” Billie asked, as Lee tucked himself back into his pants. 

“Really?” Lee looked shocked at the offer. 

“Yeah, of course,” Billie scoffed. 

“What if she doesn’t like me?” 

“She will. She likes most people,” Billie promised. 

“Most people?” He questioned. 

“She only ever dislikes people that give her a reason,” Billie answered. She grabbed Lee’s hand and pulled him back to the house. His thumb dragged across her knuckles. He didn’t know if he’d ever let go of her hand. 

“Just grab a seat,” Billie said, gesturing towards the couch in the living room, “She’s just napping.” Billie sat down next to Lee. She kicked her shoes off, and draped her legs across his lap. 

“So, what’s it like to be sheriff?” she smirked, the way her eyes lit up was the same as when she was eighteen. When she used to tease him in the front seat of his car. 

“It’d be better if I had less idiot deputies,” Lee chuckles. 

“Well, you better get on that Sheriff,” Billie teased, “But you like it?”

“I do. It’s nice to be in charge,” Lee responded. Billie hummed. She knew that he liked to be in charge. 

“Sheriff Bodecker,” Joy sighed, as she entered the front sitting room, “How are you doing?” 

“I’m good. How are you holding up, Joy?” Lee asked. He allowed concern to flash across his face. Even though he knew of his role in her grief. 

“Much better now that my Billie is home,” she answered, petting Billie’s hair. 

“I feel the same way,” Lee smiled dreamily. 

“You gonna make an honest woman outta my daughter then?” Joy joked. 

“I think I will,” Lee laughed. 

“Good, good. We could use the happiness of a wedding around here. Or more babies,” Joy beamed as she went back to the kitchen. 

Lee smirked down at Billie after the baby comment from her mother. Billie toyed with Lee’s hands, avoiding his gaze, and intense blush colored her cheeks, despite the fact that Lee had been balls deep inside her ten minutes ago, coaxing her to promise him more babies.

“Mama,” called a small voice. 

“I’m right here, baby,” Billie answered getting up from the couch and going to the stairs. Beth took each step down slowly. Her hair and dress were rumpled. When Beth reached Billie, she attempted to smooth her daughters hair and clothes. 

“I have someone I want you to meet,” Billie cooed. Picking her daughter up. Billie went back to the couch and sat down with Beth in her lap. 

“Lee, this is Beth,” Billie said. Lee smiles down at the little girl. Beth decides to take the opportunity to lean as far forward as she can to see Lee. He’s surprised that she’s not shy. He’s a stranger after all. She reaches out to touch his badge. Seemingly intrigued by the star-like plaque. 

“Are you a policeman?” She asks him. 

“Yeah, I’m a sheriff,” he tells her. 

“What’s that?” She asks. 

“That means he’s in charge of all the other policemen around here. Uncle Tim is a policeman and this is his boss,” Billie says patiently. 

“Do you catch the bad guys?” Beth quizzes, looking up from his badge to his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Lee chuckles. Beth wriggles out of Billie’s lap and closes the very small distance between her and Lee. She climbs onto his lap and continues to play with the edges of his badge. 

“I have a bad guy for you to get,” she tried to whisper, it comes out less quiet and more like a stage whisper. 

“Sure thing, peanut,” he said affectionately. He’s expecting her to tell him about the monster under her bed. Or a criminal in a story. 

“It’s mama’s boyfriend. He’s mean and he hurts her,” the little girl told him. Lee attempted to keep his features schooled. He doesn’t want to scare the little girl. For a moment he considers hunting down the bastard and strangling him with his bare hands. He wants to make him suffer, and be the reason that asshole would never see the light of day again. But he needs to take care of the little girl in his arms for the moment.

“Well, I want nothing more than to keep your mama safe,” he placates the small child. He looks at Billie and she looks guilty. 

“Baby,” Billie scolds, “You know that we’re here because mama isn’t with Mr. Larry anymore, because he’s a bad man. We’re moving back where all of our family is.” Beth slowly nods, but continues to play with Lee’s badge, small fingers skating over the edges.

“Beth,” he says as he directs his attention back to the little girl on his lap, “do you want to color?” Beth looked up excitedly at Lee. She hurried Billie out to the car to get her favorite coloring books. Billie, Lee and Beth sit at the mismatched dining room table and color together. Beth talks Lee’s ear off. She spends that time telling him everything about herself. Her favorite book, her favorite animal, her favorite color, all the information she deems the most important. Lee just soaks in everything she tells him. He’s ecstatic to be learning about his daughter.

That evening, Billie digs out her old apron. She and Sylvie make dinner while Lee and Joy occupy Beth and Rose. After having dinner and cleaning the kitchen Beth looks almost dead on her feet. But she returned to the table with after dinner coffee. She sat down next to Lee. He was quick to rest his hand on her thigh. 

“You look exhausted, honey,” he observed. 

“I am,” she sighed, “I should probably get Bethie ready for bed.” 

Upon hearing this Beth shrieks, “Noooo. I want to stay up and keep coloring with him!” Crocodile tears began welling up in Beth’s eyes. 

“Baby it’s okay,” Billie tried to placate. But Beth was not having it, she looked like she was about to start wailing. Lee stood up and picked Beth up from her chair and then sat right back down with Beth in his lap, she was far more content there.

“Beth,” he began, hesitantly, “How do you feel about you and mama living with me? And me being your daddy?” 

Beth’s tears dry up quickly and her eyes light up, “Really?” She asks excitedly, “Can we mama?” Lee catches Billie in a dreamy daze. He only ever saw that look every once in a while. 

“Of course, sweetpea,” she smiles. 

“Can we go now?” Beth begs.

“We probably should be getting this one home,” Lee said, petting Beth’s hair soothingly. 

“Home?” Billie questioned. 

“What? You thought that I wouldn’t have you two come home with me tonight?” Lee chuckled. 

“Isn’t that inappropriate for the sheriff to let an unmarried woman stay at his house?”

“I was just re-elected. So, I’m not too worried about what people say. As someone in law enforcement, only I can speak to where is safe for a young woman to stay at night.” 

“Alright,” she says, amused, “You still live in the same place?”

“I do.”

“I’ll drive my car over there then,” she smiles, standing from her seat, “Beth, it’s time to go. Hug Grandma goodbye.” Beth slowly gets up and hugs Joy. Billie kisses her sister and mother on the cheek. 

“Do you need anything before Wednesday, mom?” She asked Joy quietly. 

“No, the funeral home did want us to come early. They said 2:00, I believe,” Joy sighed. 

“Alright, well if you think of anything just call me at Lee’s, okay?” Billie commanded. 

“I will, honey,” Joy promised. Beth is standing close to her mom, while Lee waits for them at the door. 

“Mama, up,” Beth demands making grabby hands. 

“Baby, you’re getting too big for mama to carry,” Billie tries to reason. Beth’s bottom lip quivers and Lee can see that she’s about to cry again. 

“Beth, why don’t you let daddy carry you,” he offers. Beth beams up at him, rushing over so he can pick her up. Billie mouths “Thank you” to him. Lee grabbed Billie’s hand and led her out of the house with his daughter in his arms. He’s on top of the world. 

Billie follows Lee to his house. He lives in a simple ranch style house. It looks the same as the last time Billie saw it. Lee always said that this was just a first home. That he wanted to live there until he’d had a couple of kids. Then when the third baby was on its way, he would buy a bigger house. 

Lee is quick to help Billie with the bags. She doesn’t have many. And she’d sold her furniture to a young couple down the hall. They enter into the living room and it’s just the same. Same furniture, just a little more worn down. Lee locked the door and led them towards the bedrooms. He set the suitcases down in the hall, between the master room and one of the spare rooms. Lee had furnished both the spare rooms with items he’d inherited when his mother died. 

“Beth can sleep in this room,” he said pointing to the room next door to the master, “I’ve got some sheets for that bed in the closet. I don’t keep them on the bed unless I have company.” Billie nodded. 

“It’s getting close to her bedtime. Do you mind getting her bed ready, while I give her a bath?” She asks, gesturing towards Beth, who is tiredly leaning against the doorway. 

“Of course,” Lee says eagerly. Billie takes one case and begins digging through it. He can see that it’s Beth’s clothes. Billie is quick to find a small little night dress for Beth, before picking up another bag and finding Beth’s shampoo and toothbrush. She leads Beth to the bathroom where she fills the tub and starts directing Beth into the tub. Lee smiles to himself at how right this feels.

After her bath, Beth demands a bedtime story. Billie sits in the rocking chair in the corner, Beth in her lap, gently rocking as she reads the story. Lee watches from the doorway. He’s not paying attention to what she’s saying. He’s enthralled by how maternal she looks. She looks like she was made to be a mother. She happily makes a new voice for each character, Beth fights to keep her eyes open. She, too, is captivated by her mother. But the exhaustion of the day wins, and her breathing evens out as she falls asleep. Billie carefully tucks Beth in with a gentle kiss of her forehead. She turns to Lee, shooing him from the room. She quietly closes the bedroom door. 

Lee stares at Billie. Her baby blue dress brings out the blue in her eyes. Her hair is starting to fall from its perfect style. She looks as beautiful as always, but Lee knows her well enough to see that she’s completely exhausted.

“Let’s wash up and get to bed,” he coaxed. She nodded in agreement. Lee went to the bathroom first, quickly splashing water onto his face and washing up. Billie went next. She removed her makeup and brushed out her hair. She hated the way she looked without makeup. She knew she wasn’t nearly as pretty. But she also knew it was just better for her to take it off. She changed into a nightie, as well, before she exited the bathroom and went back to the bedroom. Lee was already in bed, and Billie was quick to crawl in next to him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. 

“I have something for you,” he hummed. 

“Lee, I swear to God if you pull out your cock—“ Billie threatened. Lee laughed heartily and as quietly as he could with Beth in the next room. 

“No, something else that I think you’ll like,” he smirked. Billie rolled her eyes playfully and shook her head. Lee got out of bed and went to the closet. Billie could see that he was looking for something. She saw him pull a shoebox from the top shelf, he quickly took what he needed from the box and put it back where he had found it. Whatever it was that he got from the box, he hid it behind his back. His eyes glinted mischievously as he approached the bed. 

“So, I got this for you a while ago. And I kept it because I always hoped you would come back and I could give it to you,” Lee murmured as he kneeled down next to the bed. Finally, he revealed a small box. Billie had a feeling she knew what this was. 

He opened the box, and revealed a beautiful ring. It was set on a thick gold band. In the center was a diamond that sparkled impossibly, an asscher cut. It wasn’t as large as the diamonds all the women in Hollywood got, but it was far larger than anything in this region of Ohio.

“Lee,” Billie gasped, “How long have you had this?” 

“I got it a couple of weeks before you told me that you were pregnant,” he answered, smiling bashfully. 

“I can’t let you give me this. It’s so extravagant,” she protested. 

“Sugar, I’ve been dying to give you this ring for five years. So, marry me, let me give you this ring, and make me the happiest man alive,” Lee smiled, “Please.” 

“Of course,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. Lee slid the ring up her finger. It fit perfectly. Lee got up from the floor and got back onto the bed. He crawled over Billie before kissing her deeply. When she cupped his cheek he could feel the extra weight of the ring. It spurred him on, his bit down on her bottom lip before kissing down to her neck. Her hands raked through his short hair. His fingers went to the apex of her thighs, he slid her panties to the side and plunged two fingers into her. He was shocked that she was already quite wet. He kissed her neck, as the room filled with obscene noise from her pussy. 

“Lee, please. I need you inside me,” she begged. 

“I am inside you, baby,” he teased. 

“Your cock. I need your cock,” she mewled, “I need to feel you inside me.” Lee wasn’t about to argue with a beautiful woman in his bed. He helped her out of her nightdress and underwear. She yanked on his boxers until he helped her get them off. He settled himself between her thighs. He lazily rubbed his cock over her slit, wetting his length. He pushed just the head of his cock in before removing it again. Billie pouted up at him. 

“I think you may owe me a little something, darlin’,” he teased. 

“Please, please,” she pled, clawing her fingers into his ass. 

“Aww, look at my little baby. So desperate for my cock,” he mocked, he continued to rub himself against her pussy lips. “What would you do for my cock right now?” 

“Lee,” she groaned. Billie was not interested in this game at the moment. Maybe a different night, but she just needed him to fuck her into the mattress. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.” 

“I wanna make another baby with you, right now,” Lee growled in her ear. 

Seriously? That was all he wanted. From how he was playing it, she thought he might want anal. 

“Well,” she began as she moved her hips up and down, forcing him to take more friction, “then you better get to work, daddy.” She whispered the last word directly into his ear, before licking the shell of it. That was all it took for Lee to push into her abruptly. He stilled and looked down at her. 

“Tell me you want me to get you pregnant,” he demanded. 

“I want you to get me pregnant,” she whimpered. 

“What?” He goaded. 

“I want you to get me pregnant, daddy.” Lee began pumping in and out of Billie brutally, hitting that sweet place inside her that made her gush all over him. 

“Fuck, did you get tighter?” He groaned. His hands palmed her breasts. Lee was sure it wasn’t just the five years of separation, but he was enthralled by how beautiful she was. She was perfect. His hands couldn’t grip all of her breasts, her hips flared out in delicious curves. Her tummy was soft, softer than before, it was an aftereffect of having his baby, Lee was sure. Her thighs were thick, he couldn’t help but imagine those wrapped around his face as he fucked her with his tongue. But that was a task for another day, or maybe just later. 

His hands skated down her figure to grabs her hips. He held onto her so tight, he knew it would leave bruises but he used his grip as leverage to fuck her harder. Her legs locked around him, as he thrust in so hard it pushed her farther up the bed, until her head hit the headboard. Billie threw one hand up to stop her head from slamming harder into the headboard, but that action just forced the headboard to slam into the wall. 

“Lee,” she moaned, “We have to be quiet.” They had a little one to worry about now. Lee slowed, but the headboard kept hitting the wall. He pulled out and stood next to the bed. Billie immediately pouted at the loss of him inside her. 

“Come here,” he cooed. She crawled over to him and began to lay back before he stopped her. 

“No, back to me, feet on the floor,” he commanded. She followed his directions and stood so her back was pressed to his front. He held her tightly to him. Kissing her neck, as one hand held her hip and the other ran over her belly. 

“Can’t wait til you’re all swollen with me,” he hummed in her ear. He pushed her forward onto the bed, before pushing back inside her. Billie turned her face so she could moan into the bedspread. Lee used this new position to fuck her deeper. And as hard as he could. His hands held her hips tightly, and he bent over her, kissing her neck and back. She got wetter and wetter the more attention he paid to her back. That was something he’d never discovered and he loved it. He started sucking bruises between her shoulder blades and the curve where her neck met her shoulder. 

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped. Her juices were starting to trickle down her thighs. 

“So wet,” he smirked, one hand curving around her body to rub her clit. Lee could feel her legs starting to shake. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” He teased. She nodded desperately, not able to speak. Her hands went to the bedspread and gripped it tightly. Lee kissed the back of her neck, and felt her clench a bit tighter around him. He laved his tongue over the same area, before sucking a bruise in the same section. Billie’s eyes rolled back and she came with a shout. It took all of Lee’s self control not to follow her. He slowed his thrusts as she came down. He pulled out, very pleased to see her dripping as he did. 

He rolled Billie onto her back. He wanted to look at her when he came. He cupped her face, she was still in a daze, but she looked up at him dreamily. He pushed back into her, and she moaned, quietly. 

“I love you,” she whimpered. 

“I love you, baby,” he told her. Tears sprang to her eyes, as he rolled his hips slowly against her. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I wish I never left.” 

“Shh, it’s okay,” he reassured. She reached up to touch his face. 

“You need to know, I missed you everyday. I regretted it everyday,” she sobbed, “I was so stupid. You are the only man I ever could’ve loved and I left you.” Lee stopped moving, but stayed inside her. 

“Honey,” he said, “It’s okay. I promise. I’m never gonna stop loving you. Not even you leaving could change that. Just be with me now. We don’t have to worry about anything else but the future, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered. He kissed her forehead. 

“Do you want to stop? We can just go to sleep if you want.”

“No, I want to keep going.” 

“You sure?” He asked. 

“Yeah, please,” she begged, “I want you to feel good.” She leaned up to kiss him. Her hands lightly scratched over his back, encouraging him to keep going. Lee hesitated but picked his movements back up, he was going slow. Slower than Billie wanted. 

“Faster,” she commanded. Lee complied, slamming into her. 

“Say my name,” he growled. 

“Lee,” she breathed in a high pitch voice. 

“Tell me what you want, honey,” he grunted. 

“I want you. I want you to cum inside me,” she gasped. 

“Are you mine?”

“Yes, yours. All yours.” Lee was pummeling into her now, chasing his orgasm. 

“I love you, Lee,” she whimpered. And those words sent Lee careening over the edge of the cliff. His hips stuttered into her, as he came. Rope after rope of hot cum painted her walls. Billie fluttered around him. Lee panted above her, but leaned down to capture her mouth all the same. His tongue tangled with hers. 

When they broke apart, Lee pulled out. Billie started to sit up, but Lee pushed her back down. 

“Stay on your back,” he ordered, “I want it to take.”

“Honey, we have all the time in the world to try again,” she laughed. Lee didn’t care. He picked her up from the edge of the bed, and set her down, so she could lay against the pillows. He helped her get under the sheets before joining her. He thought about pushing inside her again so none of his cum could leak out. Billie turned onto her side so she could lay across his chest. He scowled at her for ignoring his directions. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you fuck your cum back into me in the morning,” she sighed, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck. Lee chuckled, and wrapped one arm around her. He was dragging his hand up and down her back when he felt it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was a bumpy spot on her back. It didn’t feel like the rest of her soft skin. He peered down and saw several dots. They were in clusters all over her back. He hadn’t noticed them before, he’d been too preoccupied.

“What are these?” He asked her. Billie stiffened. She was like a board in his arms. 

“It’s nothing Lee. Let’s just get to sleep,” she hummed. 

“Tell me,” Lee said sternly. 

“Just… just don’t freak out, okay?” She murmured, pulling away to look at his face. “They’re healed cigarette burns. Larry was an angry drunk.” Lee felt a murderous rage race through his blood. He had half a mind to get dressed and go find that bastard that very instant. “Honey, please just stay calm.” 

“Stay calm? How do you expect me to stay fucking calm?” Lee hissed through gritted teeth, trying to stay quiet for Beth’s sake. 

“It’s okay. It’s over. I’m here and he’s back in New York,” she soothed. 

“I could just kill him,” Lee growled. 

“I’m okay,” she promised, “Let’s just go to sleep. Please.” Lee nodded begrudgingly. He pulled Billie back into him. She quickly fell asleep, but Lee was content to just hold Billie for a moment. Happy that after so long she was back in his arms. 

@greeneyedblondie44 @bxnnywriting @kitty4860

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x ofc

[dianapana]

SH Day 1: The Beginning of us

@sasuhinamonth

(Modern AU, OOC most likely)

“Kids, don’t forget to be very nice to Grandma today, it’s a difficult day for her” Hikari said once again, only to be met with silence. The woman sighed deeply and looked into the rearview mirror at her two teens, both with earphones in, typing away on their phones.

“They both love your mom; I know they’ve been in awful mood swings lately but they haven’t seen Hinata in a couple weeks.” Yuuta, Hikari’s husband tried to reassure her.

“I know, but this would have been dad’s birthday, and she always gets so sad around this time of the year. It’s been almost 10 years since dad died, but it still breaks my heart every time to see her cry”

Just as she finished talking the car stopped, Hikari did not have the time to turn around and ask her kids to be well-behaved because they were both out of their seats and running towards the house.

“These kids, I swear…” Hikari murmured to herself as she was putting her phone into her purse getting ready to get out of the car as well. She was just about to complain some more but was cut off.

“MOOOOOM, THE DOOR’S LOCKED”

That was it, the sentence that made her skin crawl, she froze in place. Hinata always waited for them by the window and would come outside when the car park, no matter how down she was that day, she would always be outside, but she wasn’t, the door was locked.

“Kids come back here,” Yuuta said softly while taking her purse. The kids got back into the car with wide eyes, confused but also scared. Hikari could not move, she stayed still and silent looking at her own hands as Yuuta went to unlock the door and then went deeper into the house. The few minutes he was gone felt both like a few seconds and an eternity.

He came out of the house with a deep frown on, he didn’t even have to say the words, they all knew. The kids cried Hikari fought against tears and Yuuta called his brother-in-law to tell him the sad news. Hinata had passed away in her sleep.

The week to come was a blur of phone calls and planning intertwined with crying, mourning and comforting. The funeral came and ended in a blink of an eye. Most of Hinata’s friends and generation had already passed, thus most of the people attending were distant family or kids of her friends. Regardless the room was filled with sobs and condolences. Just a few days prior Hikari complained about her kids growing up too fast, becoming adults that no longer needed her, but during the funeral, both of them held her hand as they cried throughout the ceremony.

Hinata was buried next to Sasuke, after 10 years of making him wait she decided to leave them and join him in heaven, part of Hikari was happy the two of them would meet again in the afterlife, but the other half of her was stubbornly missing her mother, needing her even in her adult life.

The last step of the process was cleaning out the house. It almost felt like blasphemy when they decided to sell the house. Sasuke built that house for Hinata, they started their family there. Even after Sasuke passed Hinata refused to move in with either of her kids because the house itself held importance to her. Two months passed since the funeral, but it still felt too soon, yet Yuuta and her elder brother were moving the furniture seeming not to understand the gravity of the matter.

Hikari on the other hand was on the floor of Hinata and Sasuke’s bedroom looking through photo albums of their childhood. She was reminiscing all the happy memories she had in the house, being in deep thought she didn’t hear her kids walking in until one of them affirmed loudly. “Wow Grandma and Grandpa look so young here”

Hikari looked over to see which photo they were referring to. It was a black and white shot of the two smiling, they were 19 at the time, Hikari knew the picture well, much like the story behind it.

“That was taken on their first date,” she said and the two kids looked up at her, waiting, expecting more, willing to hear the story. “Mom told me the story about a million times when I was a teen ‘If he doesn’t treat you like Sasuke treated me here, don’t bother he’s not worth your time Hikari’ she’d say”

Looking at the photo for a moment longer she could almost hear Hinata’s soothing voice as she was telling the story.

“The two of us met when we were small kids, our mothers were friends but we moved from Konoha after I entered elementary school. At the time the move was devastating, but as years went by, he slowly became a passing thought until finally I completely forgot about him and our friendship. Years later after, I returned to Konoha because I was assigned a kindergarten teacher post here. The first few days here were awful, I knew nobody and the other teacher was so rude and mean. I cried myself to sleep the first two weeks. I hated the apartment I stayed in as well; looking back, the apartment was lovely, but I hated being alone, I had never been alone before, and at the time being a single young girl in the city by yourself was frowned upon, and that mentality was so deeply rooted In my mind as well, I felt shame at times to come home to silence. I barely managed to get used to the job when I met Sasuke again, he was a young, handsome man; and he knew it too, if you think his ego is bad now you should have seen him back then. He came by the kindergarten to pick up his niece. He claims he remembered me and that’s why he kept approaching me, but I don’t believe that; I am telling you he fell in love at first sight.

I didn’t want to do anything with him, I was still having a tough time and a relationship would be too difficult to start at the time, but he insisted almost daily. It started out in a self-centred manner; he really believed himself to be the best catch out there, and he was, but still, it wasn’t very attractive at the time how he approached me in that way. So, after a few tries, he realized he should change how he tried to get my attention, he would bring me one flower every day when he came to pick up his niece; he apparently begged his sister-in-law to allow him to pick her up daily. Then, all of a sudden, he stopped coming, I didn’t ask about him because why would I, but his disappearance made me feel sad and disappointed; it made me realize how our small interactions actually meant so much to me and how much I basked in his attention.

A month passed and I had not seen him since, this time his memory was much stronger and harder to forget, but I was starting to lose hope of ever seeing him again. And just as I started accepting that fact, he returned with 31 flowers, one for each day he was absent, and a picture; a picture of the two of us as kids holding hands in the backyard of my old house. He looked so lovely, he was wearing a suit; it was the first time I saw him in one; he had just gotten an important job and couldn’t stop by due to the training program he needed to complete.

Before I could even get a word out, tell him I had missed him or that I was happy to see him, or how utterly surprising it was that we had met before; he started talking about fate and destiny, it was a lovely speech that painted us to be the one and only option for the other, it was very sweet. But once again he didn’t allow me to reply before asking me to wait. ‘Wait for a month’ he said ‘I will come and ask you on a proper date, one that I will be able to pay for with my first salary.’ I thought that was charming of him so I agreed.

Little did I know that a month later he’d show up once again with 31 roses and on a motorcycle. I had never dreamt of seeing one of those at the time, they were still so new and almost frightening. But I had waited for that date for such a long time so I decided to do things his way. He took me to the most expensive restaurant in the city.

The date itself is such a fun story too when he had to order he asked for the beef tartare, but he had never had it before and thought the condiments that came on the side were pre-portioned so he dumped everything in, it was so disgusting he couldn’t even take two bites out of it, so we ended up splitting my pasta. After the ‘dinner fiasco’ as Sasuke still refers to it, we continued our drive, he took me outside Konoha grounds to a small river bank where it was rumoured that you could see the most stars in the sky. That’s where we took the picture. We actually took about a dozen but we were both nervous, so either I had my eyes closed or his hands were shaking and the photo was blurred.

We leaned against the bike and looked at the sky for a while until he took my hand and held it, my heart was beating so fast I was certain he could hear it. I had never been on a date before, and the month of not seeing him made me realize my feelings, add to that a full month of waiting and expectations and I was a ball of stress, especially now that we were all alone in a secluded area. I had been fine at the restaurant, I was calm and collected while he had been the anxious one, but now the roles were reversed, he appeared to be so sure of himself and I was shaking all over. I thought the silence would be awkward, but it wasn’t, it was comfortable. I can’t even remember how long we looked at the starts and occasionally talked a bit, but I do remember the cool summer wind and his warm hand, I remember the mischievous glint in his eye, I was sure he’d kiss me, but he only looked at me and called me beautiful.

We only had our first kiss on date number six about three weeks and a half later, when I asked why he waited so long, he told me that Itachi gave him some advice, that at times waiting builds up suspense and makes the other person constantly think of you; which was true, all my thoughts would somehow lead up to him; and Sasuke said that he wanted me thinking of him as much as possible so I’d catch up to him; so, I’d like him just as much as he liked me. Poor him, not knowing I had already fallen deeply in love.

Don’t settle for less Hikari, they have to have an elaborate and intricate plan to get to you, and if it’s you doing the chasing follow your dad’s lead because I thought he was so charming.”

The story would forever be in Hikari’s mind, she would forever remember her parents as being deeply in love from their beginning until their last moments. The house was filled with memories, but so was she, she carried around all of the stories and moments of her parent’s love story throughout the years, and it was a beautiful tale.

#sasuhina #sasuhinamonth #sasuhinamonth2021 #sasuke #hinata #hinata hyuuga #susake uchiha #uchiha #hyuuga #naruto #sasuhina fanfic #fanfiction #dia story #diawrites

[claudiarya]

Hey guys, I’ve written a post RoW fanfiction. I warn you that it has a death trope in it, so beware.

You can also read it on Ao3 as well. 

Count words: 5990

Hope Suite

They didn’t know the moment when it all went wrong. Had it been when Kaz had accepted the job? Had it been when Inej had left Pekka Rollins alive, or when they had kept going despite all the adversities, they had encountered? The events of the last days were starting to become a blurring reel, that had done nothing but confuse them. What had started as a fairly easy job for the queen of Ravka, it then had turned out to be a major standoff with their enemies, which was putting not just one country, but the whole world as they knew it in peril. Maybe it had all gone downhill when Jarl Brum had managed to escape his prison cell at Hellgate, aided by one of his most trusted Drüskelle, his mind already too corrupted by the former General’s manipulations.

By the time he had been set free again, and had sought revenge against his detested neighbors, specifically against the witch queen and her monstrous husband, Inej, Kaz and his crew had already been too involved with their task to worry about it. How could they have known that once out, Brum was going to use everything in his power to bend Ravka? The Fjerdan man was aware that he couldn’t compete with its ruler, so he had worked out a different strategy entirely: if he couldn’t hope to win in a direct confrontation, he was going to annihilate her and her subjects from within, even if it would cost the destruction of his own country and more…

They didn’t know how Brum had gotten the information, but he had travelled to the mountains and had somehow liberated a certain shadow summoner from his sacrifice of eternal of pain, well before Zoya could do as she had planned. The shadow summoner in question had disappeared without a trace, only the Saints knew where he could have gone to hide away.

Needless to say, the darkness and its vampiric actions had started to spread again, at twice the speed. It looked like a ravenous beast had been set lose. It had extended in other countries as well, a silent and unannounced menace ravishing everything in its wake, that terrified even sailors at sea. If that wasn’t enough, Brum had also found out about Dirtyhand’s ‘involvement’ with the queen, and had made an ally with an ex Barrel boss, who had lost all his fortunes and power to a teenage crippled kid. Two powerful and dangerous men driven by their thirst for revenge had revealed themselves to be even more unstoppable than any of them had originally believed.

***

Inej remembered when Kaz had asked her to take a short leave from her sea voyages, to run one last time with him and the other crows in this task in which her skills at gathering information were going to be fundamental. Jesper had, of course, already accepted his friend’s proposition, and if at first Wylan had been skeptical, he had ended up joining the crew for the job. Perhaps for his natural instinct to follow wherever the gangly sharpshooter went, or maybe for the fact that he had made friends with the King consort, their shared love for science and ‘infernal gadgets’, as Kaz would call them, a fertile ground for common understanding.

“I won’t force you to do anything,” he had rasped to her while sitting on the roof ledge at the Slat to watch the tepid Ketterdam sun slowly blinking into existence in front of them; their intertwined fingers a testimony of how far they had already conquered together. The only thing that hadn’t won yet was their insomnia.

“Your particular set of skills is needed for this job, but I understand if you don’t want to be dragged into this,” Kaz had continued, and she had known he had slightly turned his head in her direction, as she had kept her eyes on the dawn.

After a while and still no answer from her he had sighed.

“Inej, what I’m trying to say is that we need you. I need you. I don’t think I can do this without you, so please tell me now, so I can send back a definite answer to Her Royal Pain.”

The Suli girl had marveled at his words: she didn’t think she had ever heard Kaz admit out loud that he couldn’t do something without the help of someone else.

“I’ll do it,” she had exclaimed, now turning her gaze on his stone-carved features. “But on one condition: I want Queen Zoya to help me fight against the slave trade in Ravka, and I want her to promise me that human traffickers are going to find the justice they deserve in her country.”

Kaz had squeezed her hand, the look in his eyes an oath to himself as well as to her.

***

Inej clutched her hand on her injured arm. She could feel the blood on her palm, as she watched Kaz keeping at cane point the last of the men who had tried to kill them. Their lead for the relic of Santk Feliks’s heart had taken them here, in an obscure abandoned, or so they thought, monastery on the Ravkan coast, right on the border with Fjerda. They had found out that centuries before, the order of religious men inhabiting the place had been the resting place of the only remaining part of the Saint. An easy reconnaissance job, an easy trail to follow. But ever since the spreading of the blight, of the Kilyklava, nothing had been easy.  It was as if for every movement they made, their enemies were ten steps ahead of them. Inej had never seen anyone outsmart Kaz like that. Usually, he was the one who had everything under control, who could predict every outturn, every maneuver his opponents were going to make. But instead, everywhere they had attempted to gather information, they had encountered a setup of sorts: mainly the place they had intended to scout, burnt to the ground. Had they a spying traitor in their mix? Inej had never seen him more on edge than she had in the last month, but now they had passed the pretense of this being another job. It had stopped being that when the world hab been threatened by an unstoppable force and Pekka Rollins had entered the picture. It was personal. And she suspected that he was also trying to keep true to the promise he had made her.

Inej had thought they had planned this out so carefully, she was sure they would not encounter any unpleasant surprise this time. After the too many (not) coincidences, they had started scheming their way for the hunt of the heart with only the four of them and Nikolai and Zoya, who had had to, although begrudgingly, leave out the Triumvirate and their closest friends from this particular matter of international importance. How was it possible then, that their traces had been tracked even here?  Kaz and Inej had offered for the job, a quick break in into the abandoned archives of the monastery, while Nikolai, Jesper and Wylan would wait for them on the Volkvolny to pick them up and leave after they had completed their task. Perhaps a smaller party was going to attract less attentions, their rouse of a devoted young group of people had served them well in the little town around the old holy building, and they had played their parts too well that Inej had forgotten for an instant that they had a bigger goal in mind. She was never going to forget the easy talk, the laughs they had shared around the table of the little tavern they had resided in, her hand clasped together with Kaz as a sort of lifeline for the both of them; her head resting delicately on his chest as they were lying down on the little bed they shared.

The four men that have been sent to kill them had caught them by surprise. Again.

Kaz had just uttered “We’ve got what we need, let’s go,” when the first thug that had tried to sneak up on him. Inej had made a quick work of the assassins, if her knives embedded in two of the men’s throats were of any indication. Despite that, one of the others had managed to graze her arm with a bullet, when she had momentarily lost her focus because the remaining one had kicked Kaz’s bad leg, eliciting a sound of pain from him. If only Jesper and Wylan had been there with them.

As she hobbled to where he was standing, Inej realized that Kaz was shaking from the effort of not to keel over in pain, his hand gripping the crow’s head of his cane so tightly, she feared he was going to snap it in half.

“Kaz...” she started

“You’re bleeding,” he rasped, diverting his gaze from the man to her, for the briefest of moments.

“It’s nothing,” she said. But she could see that he wasn’t really convinced, and with a soft grunt, he fished from his pocket a handkerchief and handed it to her, before asking to the person on the ground.

“How did you know we would be here?” his eyes two unforgiving coals.

The hired assassin didn’t answer at first but gave away in a little chuckle instead. Suddenly Kaz, still balancing his weight mostly on his good leg, brought down his cane on one of the man’s own legs. His scream of pain echoed around them in the old room.

“It doesn’t feel good, does it?” he said. This was Dirtyhands himself, any trace of the young man he had been with her at the tavern, vaporized.

“Now, tell me how you knew we were here, or I’m going to break every bone you have, and we both know how pleasant that is.”

The man chuckled again, but then he started talking.

“At times one shouldn’t look for spiders,” he said with a sickening grin. “At times, it’s the little insects nobody sees or cares to check because they’re believed to be harmless that tip the scales.”

Inej could see Kaz’s mind trying to figure out the man’s words, his gaze distant.

In that moment she realized that she was never going to tire to see that look on his face. Nor any other looks for that matter. Wobbly, the boy in question turned to her, he took the kerchief she had been pressing on her wound from her hand, and before she could realize what he was doing he tore it a bit and tied it around her bloody arm.

“Let’s get out of here,” he stated, wincing visibly as he made to move towards the door.

The man started laughing again as if Kaz had said something so funny he couldn’t control himself. Inej was on him before she could think. A knee on the thug’s sternum and her blade pressed to his throat.

“What’s so funny?” she inquired, looking down at him with disdain. She was tired, and she wanted to bring Kaz back to the Volkvolny, to get his leg looked properly after.

“In the end, you really are nothing but two delusional kids,” the man said, and Inej could feel his voice reverberate from under her knee.

“Stop speaking in riddles, or I swear to all the Saints known I’ll cut your throat right this second.”

He raised one hand in a gesture of mocking surrender. “Let’s just say that nobody is leaving this place alive,” he conceded.

“What do you mean?” asked Kaz from somewhere behind her, his tone menacing yet on guard. The tip of Inej’s knife scraped the man’s throat when he didn’t immediately answer back, two droplets of blood slid down the blade.

“This place and the whole town are about to be razed down by bombs and cannons. General Brum’s ships are approaching. They wanted to make sure our precious king consort and his flying machine didn’t leave this place unscathed. There’s no escaping your tragic fate now.” He snarled. His voice couldn’t conceal the hate he had for Nikolai, so he must have been one of those Ravkans from the West, unhappy with who was ruling over them now.

“No,” Inej said softly, and shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re lying!”

The man’s eyes lit with a manic light. “The world shall end in flames and darkness before being ruled by Gri –” He never finished his sentence, as Kaz brought down his cane once again, this time on his head.

The silence that followed could have lasted a minute or an eternity, Inej couldn’t be sure.

“Kaz,” she started again while standing.

“You need to leave. Now. I can’t walk, I think my leg is broken, but you need to leave me here and run from this place.” Kaz said, turning to look at her, the desperation palpable in his voice

“I’m not leaving,” she approached him. “We need to warn Nikolai. Tell them all to leave.”  

“Inej – ”

“Either pick up the comm and call them, or give it to me, Kaz. We’re only losing time like this.”  Her tone was unmovable.

Without any more protests on his part, he took out the little ingenious device Wylan and Nikolai had come up with. It permitted them to communicate even from quite long distances.

“Crow 1 and 2 to Too Clever Fox, do you copy?”

For the briefest of instants only there was only the sound of static, but then.

“Too Clever Fox here, I copy you. Kaz? What’s going on?” came the king’s voice.

“Nikolai, listen to me: you have to leave. Now. Get the Volkvolny and depart. This monastery, this town is about to be razed down by bombs. They knew we would be here; Brum’s ships are approaching. You – ”

“We’re coming to get you,” Nikolai interrupted him.

“No, there’s no time for that. You have to leave here now, or it will all be for nothing.” He looked at Inej then, his eyes searching hers in the dim light of the room with evident resignation.

“No! Kaz, Inej, no, we’re coming and we’re all surviving this.” Another protest from a different voice, Jesper’s.

“No! You have to listen and be quiet. I know where the thing we’ve looked for is. It’s hidden somewhere under the little place you train your soldiers. I also know how they’ve been able to predict our every move. Bugs. Check the war room for devices of the sort we’re using right now.”

“I will,” was Nikolai’s response.

There was another brief pause of static, Kaz spoke again, before he could be interrupted

“Jesper, Wylan,” he said. “The Crow Club and everything else is yours and Nina’s. You’ll find all the documents in my office back at the Slat. Do with them whatever you think it’s right.”

“Kaz, please we still have time, we can come and get you.” It was Wylan’s voice now that came from the other side.

Inej got closer and circled the hand in which Kaz was gripping the device with her own. “Wylan, you have to leave. Right now, ring the alarm bell of the town and go.” She started and then said:

“Guys… find my parents, tell them – tell them what happened, and that it was all for something better. We love you.”

Another anguished call for their names echoed around the room they were standing.

Inej took a breath a finished what she meant to say. “Nikolai the Wraith… take good care of her, and don’t forget our promise.  When you see Nina and Zoya tell them – ”

She couldn’t finish the sentence the threat of tears pricking her eyes. Luckily the privateer answered back.

“I’ll tell them, and I promise everything we did by far will not be in vain. Thank you, my friends. We will never forget what you did for Ravka and for all of us.”

Kaz and Inej could also hear the subtle sounds of distress of their friends, their family. She realized in that moment how much all of them meant to her. Funny how life had a tendency to remind you how deeply you loved someone when you’re about to lose everything.

Kaz brought the device back on his lips and in a clear voice said: “No mourners…” and before they could hear an answer coming from the other side, he had already thrown on the ground the device and smashed it with the tip of his cane.

The movement made so that he lost his balance. He would have crashed on the ground if Inej hadn’t been there to prevent the fall. She brought his arm over and shoulder and steadied him.

Kaz looked at her intently, his face turned in her direction, his eyes scanning her features and she knew what he was about to tell her even before he spoke the words.

“Inej, you can still make it, you’re fast, you have to run and save yourself.”

“I knew you were going to say this, but if you think that I could ever leave you behind you’re sorely mistaken.”

He did not relent, and as stubbornly as ever he removed his arm from around her shoulder, he gripped his cane with all his might so as not to fall again and faced her.

“Inej, please. Run now. Live. You have so much you still have to give to this wretched world.” Kaz Brekker never said please, never. Yet here he was, a broken boy standing in front of the girl he had grown to love.

“I can’t do that,” Inej simply replied while shaking her head in denial.

“It was all my fault, and you can’t pay my foolishness with your life, I won’t allow it. It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it.”

She took the short distance separating them and put her hand atop his on his cane.

“None of this was your fault, you have to get that straight. We’ve done something good, we helped our friends, our countries. And you’ll always be worth it to me.”

At her words she felt his breath hitch, but still his eyes held behind them a strange resolution.

“I can’t be the reason why you die here today, why can’t you understand that?” Kaz’s voice cracked, perhaps with the effort of holding back his desperation. Inej brought her free hand up and gently cupped his face with her palm. Her thumb grazed his cheek in a loving gesture.

“I’m not afraid to die, Kaz. But I’m terrified at the idea of a life without you in it. So, no. I’m not leaving, not now, not ever.”

***

As they stumbled outside the musty room of the monastery, Kaz with an arm draped around Inej’s shoulder for support, the Autumnal sun had started its descent. The soft orange and purple hues of the rays reflected on the sea surface, and the waves created a gentle melody. Inej couldn’t help but think that this was the Saints’ way to lead them onto their next job, their next adventure…

They dragged their feet until they were near the shore and lowered themselves down. For a moment that felt like an eternity, they gazed to the horizon, the sheer but peaceful resignation palpable in the air.

When Kaz clasped her hand and looked at her, she remembered a conversation she had overhead between the boy and Zoya.

They had adjourned their meeting after having gone over their plan again, everyone had stepped out of the room except for Kaz and Zoya, who had prevented him from exiting with a question. Curious as to why he hadn’t joined her outside, she had stayed behind the closed door, waiting in the long corridor. She had known that Kaz, and probably the queen too, were aware that she was there, but she hadn’t cared much.

“Just out of curiosity, why are you doing this Mr. Kerch rat?” she had asked, her voice reverberating even outside.

“I thought it was pretty obvious, Your Highness. It’s for the reward.” He had replied in that wry tone of his that she knew drove Zoya crazy.

“Oh, but I don’t think it’s just that.” Even without having been inside, Inej could picture the other woman taking one of the positions she had learned the queen preferred. Arms crossed and a frowned expression to better look down on him. In the crows’ time at the palace, the two Suli women had formed an easy and quiet friendship. The captain of the Wraith had helped her queen to reacquaint herself with her Suli heritage and Inej had even told Zoya that once the situation was over, she was going to bring her to her family caravans, to spend some time amongst their people. They had become sisters at heart and by blood.

“Enlighten me with your glorious knowledge then.”

Kaz had always liked playing with fire, but he was always walking a fine line with the sovereign of Ravka. Perhaps he wanted to see how much she could take before she decided to strike him out of existence on the spot.

“When you saw that this was getting dangerous, that it wasn’t going to be an easy job, you could have easily dropped everything and return to Ketterdam with you crew. Why didn’t you? Why stay when you knew the risks?”

Inej had heard genuine interest in Zoya’s voice that didn’t bore any resentment.

“I don’t know what you want me to answer.”

“Try with the truth, I know it’s hard for you, but indulge me. I know you’re not doing this just for yourself and your own benefit, as shockingly as it may seem. You’re still here for Inej, for the promise we had sworn to keep.” The queen had said as if she had found out the deepest secret of the man standing before her.

“Let me get this straight,” he had rasped. “I’ll always do what’s best for me, but I’m also a man of my word and I made a promise.”

There had been a few seconds of absolute silence, in which probably Zoya had studied him with those piercing blue eyes of hers.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but under certain aspects we’re not that different you and I. Your prickly behavior can only last so long, Kaz, but eventually you’ll have to let go. I’ve learned that even the thickest thorns have their purposes.”  The queen had said with a wisdom that at times made Inej wondered how many lives the queen had already lived.

“Ah, but here’s where your wrong, Your Excellency. In this scenario you’re comparing me to thorn wood, while actually I’m just barren land on which nothing grows.”

His lapidary answer would have been enough to render speechless anyone, but not Zoya the Grisha queen of Ravka. In her spectacular talent at having always the last word she told him: “You’ll realize that you can’t keep up this cold demeanor forever. I just hope it won’t be too late when you do.”

***

Inej squeezed Kaz’s hand tighter and looked him straight in his brown eyes, a shade lighter in the orange sun. From a distance they heard the sound of bells. Their friends had managed to give the alarm, she only hoped they were already on their way back to the palace. The tolls were shortly followed by another sound: propellers guiding the Fjerdan ships to face the town and the monastery. With a small smile grazing her feature she told him said.

“You were wrong. You were wrong that time when you spoke with Zoya.” If at the beginning of her sentence he had seemed confused, now she could see he understood what conversation she meant.

“You’re not just barren land, Kaz. You managed to build something from nothing, you survived all those terrible things in your life and in the process, you managed to grow, to thrive, to do something good for Ravka and your friends. I’m sure your brother would be proud of you. I know I am.”  He didn’t reply.

The rumbling of the aircrafts was almost cacophonic, in contrast to the peace they had basked in not a few minutes ago. Despite that, it was as if the two of them had been placed in a protective bubble of their own, in which not even those machines of war could destroy.

Perhaps it was the lightening, but Inej swore those were unshed tears glinting in Kaz’s eyes. In all the years she had known him, she had never even seen him get emotional or choked up about something, but here, now, on this shore with her, Dirtyhands was doing just that.

“I’ve never wanted for it to end like this – his shoulders shook as he held back a sob – for us, to end like this. Inej, believe me when I tell you that if I could go back, I would do so many things differently. If I could go back, I would start to show you how much I admire you, how much I love you so much earlier than I did.”

Inej’s hand found his face again. The tip of her fingers skimmed his lips in such a tender gesture that they parted under her touch.

“There’s no need for that, Kaz, I already know. And it doesn’t matter how early or late you started. You show me you love me every day.” Her limb continued on her exploration: she touched his brow, his eyes, his cheekbones. “I propose a deal: I’ll find you in the next life Kaz Rietveld, and even there I’ll be waiting for you perched on your windowsill feeding the crows.”

Still looking at her straight in the eye, he let go of her hand, removed his gloves discarding them on the sand and rubbed her disheveled braid between two trembling fingers.

“The deal is the deal. I’ll find you there then.”

The rumble of the ship cannons had reached a deafening peak as their beams struck mercilessly on the monastery in an unescapable trap of fire.

Before the very end, the two held themselves up on trembling knees and embraced the other. A small smile of resigned happiness on both of their faces.

“Stay with me,” Kaz whispered, and unlike another and far time her answer was clear.

“Always.” Inej swore.

Saints protect us both, was the last thing she thought.

And then there was nothing but searing light.

***

In Os Alta the feast on Sankt Nikolai was fast approaching, but even if she was the queen Zoya didn’t feel much festive. The white, still landscape of her country at this time of the year was an accurate representation of what she had been feeling ever since they had managed to find the heart of Sankt Feliks, save Ravka from the plague and its enemies with another peace treaty and bring the Darkling – or Aleksander as he insisted to be called – back to the little palace where they could control him. She knew they were taking a risk, but it was safer to have him closer than not knowing where he was. It had been a hard decision, but she wasn’t going to murder him in cold blood, she was not going to turn into a monster, as he had in his lust for power. In his loneliness.  

When everything had come back to a pseudo- normality, when she had had time to think and just be, it was then that everything she had been holding back for the sake of her country hit her with tenfold the force.

Zoya had understood that keeping emotions bottled inside you, was going to eat you alive in the longer run. It was something she was learning every day, and that she was willing to change, if only a bit. She had started letting go in the small gestures of affection she shared with Genya, in the loving words she had with Nikolai, in the playful banters she occasionally allowed herself to have with the rest of her friends. Her family.

And so, as the Grisha queen strode towards her garden, the winter sun barely a strip on the horizon of a new morning, she couldn’t help the tears that fell down in two cold streaks down her face. Zoya brought an arm up to dry them, the sensation of the thick wool of her winter kefta both prickly and a reassurance.

She opened the door of the little corner of her world. Nobody entered this sanctuary except for Nikolai, since she hadn’t allowed anybody else to see her soul from that close. The structure her king had built for her always managed to leave her speechless. The glass and iron were combined in perfect harmony, and when Zoya worked in it by day, the sun would cast and create a series of little mesmerizing rainbows. However, what would always speak to her were the walls, painted by Alina. The roaring dragon flying, the little fox, the ship resembling the Volkvolny mastering the sea, the colors and symbols of the Grisha orders were her most trusted companions during the solitary hours of her gardening.

It was there where Nikolai found her, tending to her plants and flowers. She heard him enter her safe haven, and she supposed he had come out to her when he had awoken and hadn’t seen her resting beside him.  He approached her and kneeled beside where she was on the ground, a rather small pot between her hands. Nikolai knew that when she was working here like this, he would have had to let go of his privateer side, and just be the man she had fallen in love with and married. In short, he needed to be her anchor.

“Those are nice flowers,” he said, pointing to the little thing with red petals. A genuine interest coloring his voice.

“They’re wild geraniums.” Was Zoya’s noncommittal answer. Her eyes hadn’t looked up at him.

“And what is that other sprout beside the flowers?” Nikolai prompted her again, indicating the smaller, yet visible plant growing alongside the geraniums. It looked like it was enveloping the geraniums in an embrace, its green leaves a stark, yet so right, contrast with the red of the petals.

This time she raised her gaze, and her blue orbs found a pair of comforting hazel ones staring back at him.

“It’s ivy.” Again, she didn’t let herself go into any sort of explanation.

“I remember you with a vase like this when you left for the Suli caravans.”

So, he had noticed, of course he had. Zoya was always taken aback by the fact that when it came to her, Nikolai was even a closer observant than he already was.  

As soon as everything had settled after the whole ordeal, she had decided that she was going to be the one to bring the news to the Ghafas. Her and only her with no escort and no Nikolai in tow. She had told him that she had to do this particular thing alone, and he had just hugged her and encouraged her to go. It had been a spiritual journey of sorts; one she had promised her other Suli sister they would take together…

“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “They were Inej’s favorite flowers. I brought a pot to her parents when I visited the camps. It was the least I could.” With her hand she showed him other three little vases with the same brightly colored flowers and green little sprout of ivy on the side. “Those are for Nina, Jesper and Wylan. It’s their present for Sankt Nikolai.”  

“Zoya,” he started. She knew they’ve been over this before, and yet she couldn’t seem to let her sense of guilt leave her.

“They knew what they were doing, it was their choice.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t make it any easier, Nikolai. When I met her parents – she shook her head – they treated me like their own. Like I was family. I’ve never felt so accepted, so… seen in my life, except for when I’m with you. And yet I’m part of the reason why their daughter has been taken away from them. They both have been taken away from them.” A small moment of silence, and once again she couldn’t stop the little tear escaping the corner of her eye.

“I just don’t understand how there can be such kindness after so much loss.” Zoya wondered out loud.

“It’s the nature of human beings, and also our strength.” Nikolai said. “Even after losing everything, we find it in ourselves to get back on our feet and fight for something new, something worth all the suffering.” He dragged himself closer to Zoya with his arms and then raised a hand to cup her cheek, gently steering her face in his direction. His thumb brushing away the stray tear marking her face.

“As long as there is life, there is happiness, Zoya. There is hope for a brighter future. And that’s exactly what Kaz and Inej had brought us: hope to build something better from the ashes.” He paused and behind his eyes she could see the same emotions that had been haunting her, testimony of the fact that he too had been grieving his friends.

“Don’t let your sorrow squander the hope they enabled with their sacrifice, because you wouldn’t be honoring their memories in that ways.”

“Oh, Nikolai,” she exhaled before throwing her arms around him with such a force he momentarily lost his balance. “Thank you!”

“Any time, my queen. I’ll always be here.” He promised.

“And besides, you know how much I love when I’m being all smart and wise. I couldn’t let this occasion to show it to you slip by.” He finished with a much brighter tone. Zoya softly chuckled, something she hadn’t thought being capable of mere months ago and told him with fake exasperation.

“Of course, you couldn’t. It’s your modesty I fell for after all.”

They remained in each other’s arms for an indefinite amount of time. The only indication of the time passing was the sun which har finally risen, and now was beating on the glass panels of the garden. Zoya continued tending to her plants, all a part of her in some capacity, as Nikolai watched her in a comforting silence, seated on the ground and with his back against a small tree.

“Why the ivy?” he asked her all of a sudden. His eyes returning once again on the pots near him.

“It can grow even in poor soils and although it requires more time for it to bloom than other plants, when it does its resilience it’s unmatched.” Zoya saw Nikolai nodding in understanding.

“I also found the meaning behind it fitting,” She added.

“What’s the meaning?”

“It symbolizes the constancy of love.”

There was a brief silence in which she saw him taking in the information.

“It is as fitting as it is beautiful,” he said, while he rose to his feet and brought her closer once again, placing a soft kiss on her dark mane.

As they left to go back to the palace, hand in hand, Zoya thought to herself that in life there were people whose souls were connected and strung in ways that couldn’t be explained by logic. She looked at Nikolai walking alongside her and smiled softly to herself, sure she had found the missing piece of her complicated puzzle in the golden boy beside her.

Her gait hadn’t felt this light in months.

In a glass garden, in a country ruled by a powerful Grisha queen with the heart of a dragon, a plant of geraniums and ivy grew stronger by the day, forever entwined in their embrace of constant love for the other.

#rule of wolves spoilers #Post Rule of Wolves #row spoilers #rule of wolves #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #grishaverse #grishaverse fic #the grisha trilogy #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #kanej fanfic #kanej #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #zoyalai #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #death trope #i'm sorry #my story

[razorblade180]

Shackles Finale: Free

[Part 12]

Destiny is a fickle thing. For some it’s real, and for others it’s as fake as fairy tales. No matter what however, time still goes on. Things still happen. Ruby was never one to think too hard on the topic despite all she’s been through. However, as she walked into Menagerie’s hospital soaking wet from the extreme downpour happening in the middle of the night, Ruby couldn’t help but wonder if it was destiny to test everyone’s resolve; or karma coming to collect.

Her self imposed mission had been going well. Adam cooperated, Blake planned ahead, and things progressed steadily. It should’ve stayed like that for three more months. Unfortunately things don’t always go as planned. Jacquelyn went into labor early, too early. The woman woke up today looking fit as a fiddle. Who could’ve guessed she would be fighting for her life today? Her, and her daughter?

Hospital staff were in a frenzy from the storm just like the public. It made getting to the back where everyone was without suspicion easy for Ruby. Certain doctors were notified ahead of time of the complexities of their patient and precautions had already been in place for Jacquelyn and company to have no disturbances. Though nobody factored in an unhealthy birth creating this island’s worst storms to date. Ruby made it to the sealed off waiting room. What should’ve been a haven of calm was another conflict. Blake stood arms folded and ears back in the way of guards and her conflicted father while Adam sat behind her, silent.

“You know I expected more from you, Saber. That goes double for you dad.”

The man frowned. “Blake, this wasn’t my-”

“We have held our end of the agreement.” Saber interjected, “Adam was to be free until the child was born. Not my problem that day came early.”

Blake grit her teeth. “You know damn well that’s not why I’m standing here right now!” She said through her teeth. His kid had just been born moments ago and just like that, she was rushed to intensive care. Meanwhile Jacquelyn was slipping in and out, her body failing her during the labor. “Let him see this through.”

“What good would it do him to hear terrible news? He’ll lash out for all we know. That can not happen in a hospital!”

“You just want to kick him while he’s down!”

“AND FOR GOOD REASON!”

Okay, Ruby had enough. “HEY!” She yelled, gaining everyone’s attention. She brushed her wet hair out of her face. “I set up generators across the island. No one's gonna lose power. I also told people Menagerie’s guards were making their rounds to make sure everyone was accounted for. I don’t mean to overstep being an outsider and all but…” her eyes burrowed into Saber’s “Get to work.” It wasn’t kind or even right necessarily, but Ruby didn’t care.

Feeling the pressure, Saber made the wise decision to take his people and leave. Ghira looked at Blake with guilt in his eyes for letting it get this far. “Listen I-”

“You know I understand mom not wanting anything to do with this, but I didn’t expect this from you. It’s like you’re trying to create every reason to push him back into old habits and make all this worthless. We will hold up our end of the bargain, so teach them what you tell me and have some patience.”

Ghira didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. There was caution, and then there was insensitivity. He had no words, just a nod before walking away.

Ruby grabbed his arm in passing. “She knows this wasn’t your call. Blake is stressed. Your house still has power. Ilia is with Kali trying to calm down Sienna and Sun is helping check on people. Maybe you should go home too?” Ruby smiled softly. She knew a worried father when she saw one. Ghira needed something to do.

“I appreciate the concern Mrs. Rose, but I think I’ll just stand guard outside this room.”

“Understood, and hey, things will work themselves out.” Ruby let him go and headed from one worried feline to the next. “You know he’s not to blame right? He’s just…trying to keep everyone connected.”

Blake let out a sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I know that, and I also know he’s not going to lose me. But right now I really need everyone to not jump the gun. Thanks for keeping the peace. Maybe I should’ve paid more attention to your leadership skills.”

“I just got snippy with faunus officers on their own island. Really testing my boundaries with my status as an important huntress across Remnant.” Ruby patted Blake on the back. “You should go check in on the doctors. I’ll do my job watching our person of interest.”

“Okay.” Blake looked back at Adam. He stayed quiet throughout all of this, eyes closed and arms crossed. He must’ve figured the best thing he could do right now is not look threatening. “I’ll let you know first if anything changes okay?”

He still didn’t move but that didn’t stop him from speaking. “Thank you.” He heard Blake run off in a hurry while the sound of chair legs rubbed the ground in front of him. Adam opened his one good eye and saw Ruby sitting in front of him with her scroll in hand.

“You know…I can’t remember when a day has felt this long.” Ruby sighed, “Moments like these is enough to just make you want stop time ya know?”

“I don’t need sympathy.”

“Wasn’t giving any. Just venting I guess. My husband sent me a text. I’m missing a very important arrival today; not that it’s your fault by any means. I just know it’s gonna be grounds for a conversation later that might get feisty, again.”

Adam could see how tired Ruby was. The normally energetic woman was leaning back in her seat, eyes closed.

“Maybe you shouldn’t take long missions then?”

“Pfft nah. I don’t regret helping where I can. Besides I didn’t know until after I took the mission. Things will work themselves out though. That’s how family works. Believe in each other and the impossible happens.”

“I know what you’re doing. It’s not gonna work. Just stop talking okay?”

Ruby pursed her lips. Years of leadership didn’t prepare her talks like these. She had to say something though. It was hard to explain, but Ruby could feel the importance of this moment. Good or bad news, bottling this up would make anyone go insane. Ruby reached down her shirt and lifted her necklace. It was a silver cross with red roses wrapped around it. She took it off and dangled it on her fingers, scooting closer to Adam.

“My dad and uncle gave this to me on my birthday. They said…sometimes you need a piece of faith when you don’t have any yourself. I’m not really religious but apparently my mom used to pray after she knew there was nothing left she could do herself. Hehe, it’s a Rose mentality.” Ruby put it in Adam’s hand and curled it. “Don’t tell anyone this, but it’s pretty cool that you are your own kind of rose. Makes me feel like we’re connected in a way. Keep that. I know it’ll fit you.”

Adam remained quiet. He stared down at the trinket in his hand until his vision blurred. His body trembled. Slowly he clenched the cross. “I have no right to pray for anything. If destiny or whatever you want to call it exists then it’s only fair I get punished.”

Ruby frowned, “Hey that’s-” she cut herself short, not expecting Adam to put his other hand over the cross; his forehead pressing against them as he closed his eyes.

“Punish me.” He uttered weakly. “Me, not them. Leave everyone else out of it.” The first and only prayer he’ll ever make. His life could be at destiny’s whim forever as long as the ones who fought for him didn’t get burned.

Ruby stood from her seat and knelt down, grabbing his hands and joining the prayer. All while Ghira watched silently from the entrance.

For several hours, It was out of everyone’s hands. A roll of the dice, luck of the draw, fate, gods, destiny, whatever anyone wanted to call it; that was the only thing left and no one dared to keep track of the time out of anxiety. It was a scary, humbling feeling for certain. It was also the purest reminder that life wasn’t fair. Bad things happen to good people, hard work is left with nothing, and sometimes… a sinner’s prayers get heard.

The doors flung open with Blake breathless. “Adam…” she panted, eyes bigger than the smile on her face. “She’s-” the tears shed caught her off guard. The two roses stared blankly before Adam stood. Blake moved out of the doorway and he took it as a sign. ‘Run.’ Adam ran and no one dared to stop him.

“Back room.” Blake said, walking to her father. Ruby got up as well and joined the two. Blake looked at the red faced girl. The feline giggled softly while wiping Ruby’s tears. “And here I thought I knew how big your heart was?”

Ruby laughed as she tried to stop sniffling. “It’s not what it looks like. Seeing him sit there with his demons like that, it reminded me of how my dad and uncle qrow used to look when mom was brought up. Sorry, got a little compromised.”

“Welcome to the club. Dad, sorry I-”

Ghira wrapped his arm around Blake. “Don’t apologize. I tell you to take things slow and yet I tried rushing to the end of this. I’m sorry. I can’t say what lies in store for Adam next, but I suppose…I’ll have to keep more of an open mind. He’s earned that much.”

Ruby shook her head and sighed. “If I’m being honest, personally I think everyone has been a bit silly. Including my lovable sis. You all make it sound like he’s been trouble free for six months when that isn’t the case. I can’t say if he’s been perfect or not but the fact that Remnant thinks he died at Argus has to mean something, right? I certainly can’t link him to any world threatening incidents since then. He’s been minding his business for a couple years now. Is locking him up really gonna change anything? I mean it wouldn’t matter if Cinder was in or out of jail for me. I’d still be wary and pissed. Your men’s feelings about him wouldn’t change because of a cell. But hey, that’s just me.”

Ruby put her hands behind her hand and walked off. “I’m gonna step out for a moment and make a call.” She looked out a window. To her surprise, the rain had stopped. Ruby dialed Yang’s number. “Hey sis! Beautiful day to start a family. So, what’s my precious little niece’s name?”

xxxx

Adam reached the back room and pushed the door open to find Jacquelyn in bed, startled by his entrance before giving him a grin. Her skin had a sickly yellow dinge to it and she was covered in sweat. Still she smiled, holding a small infant as doctors looked at vitals and did their work.

“Awe, have you been crying? I’m sorry. Guess we gave you a fright.”

One of the nurses looked at the maiden like she was crazy. “Ma’am you slipped into a coma. Please don’t try and move around much.”

“I was a little tired, that's all. Heh…guess we finally found something I’m not good at? That’s un- oh…” Adam put his arms around her and the baby. Odd, to think he could hold something this gently? His presence soothed her into leaning into the embrace, humming quietly to both him and the new arrival. A premature baby with red hair, and tiny horns.

The doctor, naturally sworn to confidentiality, watched from the sidelines. “I’d like to congratulate you with confidence, but these two aren’t out of the woods yet. While I expect Jacquelyn to bounce back with time, your daughter is pretty frail. We have her stable for the time being but the heart is a complex organ even when fully developed. We’re going to have to keep her for a while just to make sure she’ll grow up healthy. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power for her.”

“Thank you.” Adam looked at his daughter’s round face. She opened her eyes to reveal two pools or bright blue. “Hmmm.”

“Something wrong?” Jacquelyn asked.

“She’ll have a hard time, with these features going for her. I was hoping she’d look more like you.”

“Oh hush. She’s beautiful like this. Though maybe I am a little jealous she doesn’t have my hair. Still, real big fan of those eyes.” She kissed his cheek. “We’ll do our best and then some.”

The doctor pulled out some paperwork. “Now then, I’m going to need a name. Her record won’t be too expensive in terms of…background history, but she’ll need the basics as best as possible. Especially in her condition.”

“Wanna name her after your mother, or even your sister?”

Adam shook his head, “I think we already have enough namesakes. Let her be free from that. You decide. I was never really good at these kinds of things.”

“Oooo okay. Don’t come crying later if you think of a good one. A free spirited name for our little kid.” Jacquelyn giggled to herself. “Got it. How about we name her…”

“Hehe, That’s a perfect name.” The two roses spoke.

#rwby #adam taurus #jacquelyn frost #rwby au #blake belladonna #ruby rose #ghira belladonna #rwby shackles

[beautifulweird0]

Forgiving Your Parents

I know too many people who’ve experienced some form of trauma from their parents. This isn’t a blog about bashing your folks- this is hopefully a post that will help salvage some strained parent and child relationships. Cause I been there, done that-and understanding your parent is only feasible if your parent is interested in understanding you.

My disclaimer is this: The child isn’t responsible for mending the relationship...solely. I’mma tell you like this, if your parent doesn’t want anything to do with you...skip em’.

   Because that’s backwards as hell and that takes away from loving yourself. Anyway you chop it, if you find yourself forcing yourself on a “parent”, the relationship isn’t going to go anywhere-AND THAT’S NOT YOUR FAULT OR CONCERN. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL! YOU ARE EXTREMELY WORTHY. I’m so sorry your people ain’t solid; it’s a reflection of them-not you.

It’s my belief that something is wrong with a person if they want no parts of having a relationship with their child. Literally so messed up from their own unhealed traumas that they can’t find it within themselves to love someone they created…

Ain’t no fixing on that unless you take they ass to a therapist.

Moving on.

I’ve always had such a strong feeling in my gut when I come across new people. It’s like they look at me and think I got it all. Truly looking at me and seeing a woman who doesn’t have insecurities or childhood traumas spotted along her path cause I’m kind and always make it a point to smile like Granny told me.

    I’m usually a private person. But its always been that ‘pull’ on me-telling me… “It’s another little girl that is going through the same stuff you went through. Say that shit anyway. And with your chest.” .

Think about it...

Can’t a soul embarrass you about some stuff you open about. That takes all the fun out of their miserable lives if folks know wassup already.

    So as a 22 year old woman that been through some mess with her people, let me share pieces of me. Cause the last thing you want on your conscience is one of your parents passing and ya’ll not being on the best of terms.

I was listening to Mad Bitches the other day and Mikhala Jene said something along the lines of, “Nobody living is perfect”.

That hit me a little different. Like damn...nobody walks this earth perfect so...why do we expect perfection (again, subconsciously).

THIS.

   This is why I say if your parent is trying, then work with them. If they sit down with you and tell you how life was for them coming up. The good parts, the ugly parts, and everything in-between. Trying their best to be authentic and build a bond, then meet em’ halfway (if they haven’t been on some stuff that’s just unforgivable).

And shit, our people ain’t have everything at their fingertips as we do. The apps that spread information quicker than you could sneeze, weren't available. They couldn’t go on a ‘self-care’ page to calm themselves down if triggered or go on YouTube and watch motivational videos. Not making excuses, just using a little perspective that helps me! Yet and still, let your parent(s) know if they did something to wrong you; you gotta’ have respect for yourself as a human. Period.

   I didn’t find out who my biological father was until I was about 16 years old. Up until that point I believed another man was my father (which he is still and will always be!).

Sooo...I already had abandonment issues from my parents and my dad lived in a way at that time, that all parties involved thought it was best my grandparents took us in. That’s all I know is Granny’s (& Grandpa’s) house since I was a baby.

    It helped that when my mom told me who my biological dad was, she was in a much better state of mind and stable-but man...I didn��t know what to feel. My sister was more upset than me (cause we have the same dad hypothetically).

     So many questions ran through my head that I couldn’t even cry or be mad. I was shocked. Everyone played their role so well…

There was a long road ahead of me. Not only did I have to forgive my mom and dad for lying to me for so long, but there was a father in the same city I had yet to know.

My first point is patience. If you aren’t going to be patient with an end goal for you and your parent, you’re wasting your time. Being prepared for them to fumble sometimes is mandatory if y’all going to get to a better place. You mess up on certain projects or what have you’s a few times before you get it right...right?

Give your parent the same energy if you were in their shoes. Cause baby...ain’t nothing worse than admitting your wrongs and still getting beat down. I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at my mom in that moment where she was vulnerable and upset cause she knew she played a part in hurting me. What was it gone do but make me feel bad and her feel worse?

     Blowing up wasn’t going to change what happened now 22 years ago.

Yeah, there’s hella’ books on parenting but I’mma tell y’all like my Granny told me, “There’s no such thing as a book on how to be a parent.”.

Having a child of my own- I’ve been witness to this. Folks can be shown and folks can be told on how to do certain things but with each child being different in this world, you have to be intune with them specifically- no book on that.

I was through hell and back with my mother and now we’re in an extremely better place because we both made the effort (more-so on her part 🌚).

But it was my responsibility to go into it with pure intentions and my guard down a bit after she made the effort; disappointment is what I expected sometimes cause I went into it knowing it was going to be a process.

Don’t get it confused,  my mom always knew how I was-that wasn’t the issue. The new end goal was getting to know each other again so I could understand her better so I could forgive her. That’s no sucka’ shit. Its real. Everybody in this life is going to disappoint you, one way or another. Better to know what you’re dealing with so you can assess the situation in order to better assess the person. Free game.

Another step to keep in mind is, boundaries. I just feel like it will make the whole exchange smoother-not easier- but smoother. The point of forgiving your parents and (if you chose) trying to build a relationship, is to have them know you for who you are NOW. Not when you were 5, not when you was 12...have them meet you at your level. They dropped the ball, not you. Sure...nobody asked to be here but that becomes invalid when you start having babies of your own. It’s a different ball game when you bring a life into this world. Your joys become the joy of your children but way too often we forget that our pain becomes theirs as well.

My father always tried too-the dad that I always knew as my dad. On weekends me and my sister would go to his house before he moved to Michigan. Man I was a daddies girl-still am. My grandparents had the house on lock, couldn't watch programs with cussing in it or too much violence. Life of having Southern Baptist grandparents I guess.

 The weekends at pops house was always interesting. I could watch all the music videos I wanted and watch the movies that didn't have too much goin on in them.

My dad would do different stuff with us like go to the library; he always knew I loved reading. Sometimes my dad would take us to the park or a friends house who had kids (how I met my husband), water parks, or even cooking dinner with me and my sister; plenty of quality time where I could talk to him about anything.

However, at the time, pops lived a certain lifestyle and no matter how hard he tried to shield it from us younger kids, I still seen things and experienced things a child shouldn't have. Again, comes with the lifestyle I guess.

My dad drunk...ALOT. And it was interesting to see the 'upsides' of alchoholism and the very big downsides. I'd never forget, I was maybe 8? Another weekend at my dads, just me and my sister (I have multiple brothers on that side too plus another sister), and I woke up one morning on the couch. My dad was goin through some things- all he had was a couch that he let me and my little sister sleep on. My 1st thought when I woke up was where was my dad sleeping? My sister was sleep, and it was still fairly early in the morning. I go back to the empty bedroom to find him sleep on the floor. No pillow. No cover. Just a beer in hand, laid out. That broke my heart.

Just remember feeling sad all over. I took the beer, threw it away then grabbed the pillow I had and laid it under his head. While doing so, my dad woke up, halfway and kissed my hand.

He told me straight up he loves me and he apologized. Didn't go into detail but he didn't have to. My dad never had his pops in his life, nor his mama until he was grown and was taking care of her though her illness.

I knew even at 8 years old that, that gotta hurt. I'm not gone sit here and act like I always understood the motives of my father but I tried because he always tried to understand me and til' this day, he is one of the top 3 people that KNOWS me like the back of his hand.

I had to forgive my parents because they’ve come a long way. Holding all that anger and resentment wasn’t gone help me in the long run. And in a way I can say I've helped to heal them by loving them through their screw ups. We always talk about a parents love but what about a child's love?

I don’t want to pass down my pain to my son, he don’t need that- the world will give its fair share. But everyday I pray that the world won’t hurt him bad. I want my son to be nothing less than strong mentally, emotionally, but most of all spiritually. He won’t have that unless I’m solid. So I ask myself… ‘hm, what’s still hurting me?’.

We all got a story to tell.

Love. Peace. Manifest.

#black #love #hate #generationalcurses #generations #hurt #healing #blackfamilies #blog #monetsway #alcoholism #mother #father

[buck-nialled]

Niall Being A Daycare Teacher...

NOTE: Hello everybody, and welcome to another headcanon brought to you by this thought I had two minutes go (maybe even less time than that, not kidding):

Anytime there is a single parent fic involving school the reader is always the teacher. Can we take a moment to imagine Niall as a daycare/pre-k teacher??

-       Even though he instructs younger ages, I promise every single child in his classroom would label him the “cool” teacher.

-       He would always wear bright clothes. Nothing too flashy, obviously. But since his first day on the job, also known as the fateful day wear he traded a navy blue button down for a colorful sweater also marked the day he received his first compliment from a student: “I like your shirt, Mr. Niall!”

-       Oh yeah, that’s another thing. Niall hates the formality of children calling him by his last name. Wayyyy too official in his opinion. He sees the children almost like friends, considering most of what they do in his class all day is more about the enthusiasm of learning, rather than the loathsome aspects of it.

-       Anyways, the day he received that compliment he swore his heart could have burst. You were the first person he ran and told, since you were just as apprehensive as Niall prior to his leaving that morning. When he broke the news, you mimicked his wide grin and saw the opportunity to update his wardrobe with anything vibrant you knew he would wear. Every pattern from tropical, to polka dots to stripes could be found by the time you were finished.

-       Well, you thought you were finished.

-       Until the day Niall came home gushing about one of his students to you. He always described her as demure and untalkative, as she was still in that phase where a child is unaware that they will soon yield no filter and blurt absolutely anything that comes to mind.

-       “So I try talking to her again today and noticed her bag had Arthur on it. And then I told her that was my favorite cartoon when I was little and boom! Our chat just flowed…” The breakthrough Niall had been struggling so long to attain with this student got you teary-eyed, to say the least.

-       It was all the more motivation for you to purchase the men’s shirt featuring the classic aardvark with glasses the following week while you perused Target

-       Niall seemed to click with every single one of his students. Sometimes on super niche things too, which Niall would come to find is the best kind of bond to have with a student. One child noticed his Bruce Springsteen shirt and said his father played his record all the time at his home. That same day during music hour, Niall strummed along to one of Springsteen’s classics with a smirk on his face.

-       Others adored reading time, especially self-reading. Niall understood this, as every person learned at their own pace. When one of the little ones in his class babbled on about The Rainbow Fish and her fascination for the brightly scaled sea creature, Niall opted for purchasing the tale from the town’s local library and placing it directly on the center shelf where he knew their eyes would catch it.

-       Once quiet time arrived in Mr. Niall’s classroom, he eyed the child approaching the shelf and could feel his own cheeks begin to cramp from the wide grin that stretched across their face.

-       Movies were a popular replacement to playground time whenever it began to storm around the school. After premiering Peter Pan to the children one rainy afternoon, Niall was truly surprised when one of his students invited him to play pretend Peter Pan with them.

- He was a little hesitant walking up, to be honest. The last time he joined his students during playtime in the classroom, one noticed the single piercing dangling from his ear and tried making it symmetrical with the fake princess jewelry set in the classroom. The hard plastic stabbing into his earlobe, while an endearing thought, was something Niall chose never to agree to again following that day. 

-       The influence he has on their minds still stuns him to this day, though. 

-       “Who would I be?” Niall asks the young girl.

-       “You’re Peter Pan!” She exclaims, as though it is obvious.

-       “Are you sure, I play a pretty good captain hook!” Niall argues teasingly, bending one of his fingers down into a curve to mimic a pirate hook and eliciting a very stressed “ARRRRR”

-       Everybody in the group just giggled, as Mr. Niall was the least intimidating person they knew. “Jack’s already captain, silly!” The girl informs, letting Niall sigh in defeat.

-       “Alright! Who wants to be the leader?” Nobody objected when all fingers pointed back at the man to answer his question. “Me?” He giggles abashedly, before shrugging, “alright.”

-       When you entered his classroom to drop off his forgotten lunch, you smiled to yourself as a snake of children marched in suit of your husband, devotedly chanting the familiar tune. “We’re following the leader, the leader, the leader…following the leader…” When he turned to face you, the giddy children behind him screeched to a halt when Niall paused his footing.

-       “Y/N!” He collects you into open arms. And it was not long for his children to obey the mantra they were previously singing. Soon dozens of pairs of arms were wrapped around your legs as small voices echoed Niall’s with your name.

-       “Mr. Niall!” He turns down to the source of the small voice of June, another of his students. Or, at this particular moment, follower. Niall hummed, raising his eyebrows in question.

-       “If you’re Peter Pan, does that mean Miss Y/N is Wendy?” Niall turned his gaze towards you, his heart thumping ten times faster than before by the sight of the same feeling swimming around in your eyes: adoration.

-       “I believe it does.” He chuckles as the two of you flush red. He brings his focus back to June and decrees her the new leader. While everybody begins following June around the room much like they were Niall moments prior, he takes the opportunity to talk to you.

-       “Thanks for bringing it. Again.” He murmurs, taking the lunch bag from your grip. You shake your head, replying through small chuckles.

-       “It astounds me that you leave nearly thirty minutes early each day and still manage to forget your own lunch sometimes.” Niall only chuckles alongside you because he cannot argue the fact of his forgetfulness with his own spouse. You of all people would win that dispute in a matter of seconds.

-       “Guess I can’t help it…they just make me eager. More excited to get everything ready and have It be good for em, ya know?” He spares a shrug, and turns back to glance at the line of students.

-       “I know, and I love you for it.” You place a small kiss to his cheek, maintaining a PG level of affection around the young ones. Niall’s hand embraces yours and delivers a small squeeze to it as he admires the set of rings on your fourth finger.

-       “How much longer you got to spare?” Niall questions, before sparing a cursory glance at his own watch. Your lunch break was only so long, Niall knew, but any extra second he could be with you in or out of the classroom was still precious.

-       “I actually got done with everything I needed to today. So I was hoping you could fit one extra student in your classroom for the remainder of the day.” You reveal, biting your lip excitedly.

-       “That can be arranged. Care to join our game of Peter Pan, Miss Y/N?” He questions with a cheeky smile.

-       “It would be an honor, Mr. Niall.”

#niallhoran #niall horan #niall james horan #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fluff #niall horan blurb #niall horan oneshot #niall horan fanfic #niall horan imagines #niall horan imagine #niall horan smut #niall horan angst #niall horan story #niall horan headcanon