#part of a phrase put before i got to the writing it all down

[papercorgiworld]

Can you forgive what he forgot?

Mattheo, Theodore and Enzo

You two break up, but then he takes a bad hit in a fight and forgets you two broke up. When he wakes up he immediately asks for you.

I loved this request, but for some reason it was a struggle to write. I battled words and phrases, but I got it written down! I must apologize. I hoped to write this for all Slytherin boys, but it was quite a big project so in the end I decided to stick with Mattheo, Theodore and Lorenzo. I hope it’s good… happy readings my sweet readers!

I. The break up

“How dare you pick a fight with my friends? How many times have I told you to just stay away from them if you don’t like them.” Your boyfriend groans and rolls his eyes. In his book you were being irrational, again. “Maybe you should hang out with better people. Maybe friends that don’t want to break us up.” He says with a stern voice, while getting off of the couch and towering over you. “What?” You yell and run a frustrated hand over your face. “Break us up? In Merlin’s name, have you been drinking? Or are you really this delusional?” He grabs your arm and drags you to his room, so the rest of the common room doesn’t get to enjoy the little show. 

“I’m delusional? You’re the one believing everyone wants to be your friend and support your relationship and let’s all have hugs for breakfast and sing happy songs by a bonfire.” You lose it at his empty argument and grab a pillow throwing it at him. “I don’t know why I keep putting up with your shit!” You yell and you can feel tears welling up. He stares at you with a stern look. “Oh don’t worry about it anymore, because this ridiculous relationship is over!” You take a step back at his loud voice and there is a long silence as you both tremble in anger. Just before your boyfriend wants to speak up you swallow and bravely look up to him. “Fine.” His eyes widen as you turn around and open the door with a shaky hand. Say anything! Make her stay! Move! Don’t let her leave! Say something! His mind rages as he feels like all air has been ripped away, but no words come. The door closes behind you and you two are no longer together, just like that. Tears roll down your cheeks as you speed walk to your dorm and by the time you get there, your now ex-boyfriend still stands in the exact same spot: silent, frozen but in just as much pain as you are.

II. The fight

Mattheo

Walking through the hallway Cedric laughs loudly with his friends, before lowering his voice a little. “Did you hear (y/n) finally broke up with that moron.” Mattheo grits his teeth as he overhears the hufflepuff, why couldn’t people just mind their own business. “How long do you guys think I should wait before I, you know, can ask her out.” His friends chuckle, before responding. “A week.” “The girl needs time, you don’t want to come off too strong.” “Nah, she’s been done with him for a long time, she just didn’t dare break up with the psycho. Really, just ask her.” Cedric nods, taking in all the different opinions. “Yeah, she was probably terrified of him. I bet he treated her like crap. She deserves so much better.” Cedric’s words hurt Mattheo, because part of him feared that you really hated being with him.

Mattheo turns and heads for the opposite direction in an attempt to avoid the confrontation, but after two steps he grits his teeth and balls up his fists. Nope. You’re not asking her out. In one sudden move Mattheo turns around, eyes dead focused on the hufflepuff who was still chatting away with his friends. With one easy spell Mattheo pulls Cedric towards him. “You should be the one terrified of me.” Cedric can barely register Mattheo’s word before a fist hits him hard, making him stumble back and reach for his bleeding nose. Mattheo grabs Mattheo’s color, but before he can throw his second punch he feels himself fly across the hallway. 

Theodore

Walking through the hallway Cedric laughs loudly with his friends, before lowering his voice a little. “Did you hear (y/n) finally broke up with that moron.” Theodore's eyes go dark as they move to find Cedric in the hallway. “Oh, they broke up? Good for her. That prick was underneath her.” Cedric nods at his friend. “I’m thinking of asking her out.” At Cedric’s words Theodore’s eyes go from dark to dead. Normally he would’ve kept his cool longer, but Theo knew you had had a crush on Cedric until third year. “You should. She looked happy this morning.” “Totally, she’s not missing his toxic ass at all.” Theodore clenches his jaw. Sure he had his issues, he was aware of that, but he never manipulated you in any way. 

Before Theo’s fully aware of it he feels himself move towards the group of friends. With dead eyes and big steps he radiates anger. His large hand lands on one guy’s shoulder firmly pulling him back so Theo now stands in front of Cedric. “I’m thinking you should start minding your own business and keep your mouth shut about my relationship.” Any other day the hufflepuff would have chosen a peaceful way out but not today. “Your relationship? There is no relationship, you broke her heart.” In a split second, Theodore’s fist meets Cedric’s jaw, making the latter fall. As Cedric scrambles up Theo pushes away the ones trying to keep him at bay and throws another punch to which Cedric quickly reacts by pulling out his wand, sending Theodore crashing into a wall.

Enzo

Lorenzo was frustrated, frustrated with you for walking out and frustrated himself for letting you. Instead of being his usual happy self he was a stormy cloud drifting around Hogwarts scowling at everyone that so much as breathed in his direction. So when an already cranky Enzo hears the laughter of Cedric and his friends he’s eyes turn furious watching the happy lot carelessly banter. However, with his focus on the hufflepuff he overhears your name. “Cedric, did you hear (y/n) is single?” Cedric’s grins. “Yeah, I plan on asking her out sometime soon. I mean I’m not that surprised that it didn’t work out, they just weren’t a good fit.” Suddenly dropping his bag, Lorenzo struts in the directions of the group. “Hey, Diggory! You know what's a good fit?” The Hufflepuff was given zero time to calculate what was coming. “Your nose and my fist!” Enzo’s words are filled with hatred as Enzo’s fist breaks Cedric’s nose, making him stumble several steps back. 

Mattheo grins, liking this Enzo way more than the happy guy he usually was, but as he watches Lorenzo ball up his fist again he sees Cedric reach for his wand, before he can warn Enzo, he’s already flying several feet up to then crash harshly onto the stone castle floors. Everyone gasps hearing the loud tut and seeing Enzo’s body laying still.

III. The hospital wing

You had heard from Blaise what had happened and how bad it was, but even though your heart ached to be with him you were his ex and thus had lost every right to be by his side. With your head resting in your hand you picked at your food. Your friends stared at you, searching for the right thing to say. You’re about to snap at them and tell them that staring is impolite, but you catch Draco approaching you and signaling you to get up. Hesitant you walk over to him. “He’s asking for you.” He looks a bit awkward, but you nod calmly and try to act composed. As soon as you walk through the doors of the great hall and you’re out of sight, you speed walk to the hospital wing. Once in front of the door you feel yourself get shaky, fearing an uncomfortable reunion after the fight. Why did he even ask for me? Does he regret breaking up with me?

Mattheo

You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Riddle?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Mattheo’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Mattheo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Mattheo whose eyes were already on you.

“Princess.” Mattheo mutters with a groggy voice and a half smile, when you get closer he opens his arms. You are hesitant for a moment, but allow him to embrace you. When he lets go a little you immediately take a step back, making him frown at  your distant behavior. With gentle fingers move through his curls so you can study the bruise on the side of his face. Never liking the idea of you seeing him hurt and maybe thinking he’s weak Mattheo reaches for your hand, pulling it towards his chest to rest there. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shake your head at his stupid tough act. “Why did you ask for me, Matt?” His eyebrows knit together and he chuckles. “Please don’t be mad because I got in another stupid fight.” He snakes a hand to rest on your hips, gently squeezing you as a way to get you closer to him. He wants you close to him, like you always were, but you don’t budge and just frown at him.

“Please, princes. I made a bad fall, I don’t need any more attitude from you.” You cross your arms getting angry at how he pretended like everything was fine. “Please, (y/n), I promise no fights for a week.” You huff. A week, seriously, that's not even an achievement. But also not the point, Riddle. “I don’t care that you got your ass kicked. You dumped me, you can’t just expect me to come cuddle you because you’re hurt.” Mattheo looked horrified at your words. He was utterly confused. “Dumped? What are you talking about?” He moves to properly sit up on the bed and grabs your free hand, while keeping a firm grip on the hand on his chest. Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to hold onto you tightly and make sure you didn’t leave the room. “Princess, I love you, I would never dump you.” Mattheo whispers and as he leans in to kiss you, you remember what Dumbledore had said.  He doesn’t remember that we broke up! His soft lips tenderly lock with yours, finally putting his mind at ease.

Theodore

You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Nott?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Theodore’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Theo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Theodore who’s eyes were already on you.

When he notices how hesitant you are to walk towards him Theo sighs. Ever since he woke up he had this intense need to have you close to him. “(y/n), love. Don’t be mad at me. I don’t remember any of it, but I’m pretty sure Cedric deserved it.” You slowly approach him, studying the bruise near his temple. Blaise had told you how after being slammed into the wall Theodore brutally fell down, face smacking against the cold floor and the image horrified you, but seeing how painful colors covered his face made your heart squeeze in agony. “Why? Why always get into stupid fights?” You murmur and Theo stretches, almost falling out of the bed, so he can grab your hand and pull you closer. “I honestly don’t remember.” He whispers, chuckling softly, and pats on an open spot next to him, urging you to take a seat next to him. “Theo-” You sigh and look down at his hand, holding yours. “What’s wrong?” Theodore asks, fingers gently brushing your jaw as he begs for you to look at him. You snort at his stupid question. “We’re over remember, you said so. So why did you ask for me? Did you expect me to fall back into your arms just because you got into another stupid fight?” 

Theo pulls away from you and studies your face. “What are you saying? We’re over? When did I say something like that?” A heavy sigh leaves his lips and he moves the sheets aside, wanting to get out of bed and hug you. He needed to hold you. None of the things were making any sense and he kept feeling this urgent need to hold you. Your mouth drops a little at his words, but as soon as you see him try to get out of bed you stop him. “You need to rest.” You say pushing him gently. “No, I need to hold my girlfriend.” He counters and you’re sure you hear a little panic in his voice, like he really needed to hold you. “You don’t remember?” You whisper under your breath and Theo tries to make out the words you’re saying, but it was too silent so he just stares at you guessing at what’s going on inside your head. “Move aside.” You whisper and Theo complies, laying back down in the bed and relaxing when you join him. You quietly rest your head on his shoulder as your mind struggles to grasp the bizarre situation.

Enzo

You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Berkshire?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Enzo’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Lorenzo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Enzo who’s eyes were already on you.

“(y/n)! Thank Salazar, you’re finally here. Please tell them that I’m fine. They want me to stay the night for supervision, but that’s just crazy.” You take a deep breath and walk towards him. “Is that why you asked me to come?” You question dryly, making Enzo frown. “No, I just missed you. I found it weird that you weren’t here by my side when I woke up. I know you’re a busy bee, but I thought at least your boyfriend deserved a little visit and maybe a massage.” Lorenzo wiggles his eyebrows at the last bid and you cross your arms giving him a stern look. “Boyfriend? Did you really think I would come back running into your arms because your dumbass got into a fight.” Enzo pushes himself off of the pillow, clearly not pleased with your words. “Yeah, boyfriend.” He grabs your arm, pulling you against the hospital bed. “What’s gotten into you? Please don’t tell me you’re picking Cedric’s side?” 

You huff and narrow your eyes at him. “Gotten into me? You told me you were done with me and-” Enzo shakes his head in confusion, while you talk, before interrupting you. “What? I’m not done with you, you’re my girl, you’ve always been the love of my life, why would you think any different?” Enzo swings his arm around your shoulder pulling you against his chest. As he places a soft kiss on your forehead you realize what Dumbledore tried to tell you. Enzo didn’t remember your break up. He still thinks we’re dating.

IV. Like it never happened 

You had tried to tell him about the fight, but his brain just couldn’t remember and neither did he believe that he would actually let you leave. After a while you just gave up on trying to convince him it really happened and gave in to his begging for affection. Cuddled up against him, you both fell asleep in the small hospital bed. The next morning you wake up first and stare at him for several minutes debating on what to do with the situation. He had broken your heart, but now he was back and you judged yourself for it, but in truth you were happy to have him back. 

When he woke up he pulled you closer and kissed you. "Good morning." He sang and in that moment you decided that you were suffering from memory loss as well. The break up did not happen.

***

Mattheo

“Can you believe that on my first day back Snape tells me to write a three page essay?” You nod, before joining your boyfriend on his bed and brushing your fingers through his hair. “It’s Snape, I think he was being nice.” You joke and he smiles, eyes admiring your every feature. “Are you here to help me or distract me?” Mattheo smirks as you again comb his hair with your fingers. “Help.” You state before pulling away from him and reaching for some of the books scattered around on his bed. However, now that you are this close to him, Snape’s essay is the last thing on the slytherin’s mind. He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you shake your head. “No, Matt, I know what you’re thinking about, but you need to finish your essay first.” You try to pull away, but he just tightens his grip and his smirk turns into a playful grin. “What am I thinking about exactly, princess?” You force your lips into a line, not giving him the satisfaction of a smile. 

“I’m not going to entertain your little game, Mattheo.” You resist his charm, but he’s persistent and pulls you into his lap. His lips brush your ear and you can’t see his smirk, but you know it’s there. Your cheeks heat up as you feel his warm breath on your skin. “Tell me, princess, what exactly am I thinking?” Your answer is censored.

Theodore

A very frustrated Theo drops two books onto the library table loud enough to make some people throw him a look, but he just ignores it falling in one of the chairs and sighing. You ruffle his hair in an attempt to calm him. “It’s only three pages.” Theodore lets his head fall to the side as he watches you sit down next to him. “He’s punishing me for missing class, but it’s not like it was my intention to lose consciousness and miss class.” You ignore his complaint and reach for the books. “Let's just get started. The sooner you’re done, the sooner we can do something fun.” Theodore watches you as you focus on the books, feeling drawn to you he leans in. “How about we do something fun first and then I’ll do this stupid essay.” A flustered smile tugs on your lips at his seductive voice. “You might’ve hit your head pretty hard, but you’re still the same boy as before.” You mutter trying to keep your cool and focus on the books in front of you. 

“Boy?” Theodore’s voice is playful, but there’s also something twisted about it. You had struck a nerve by belittling him like that. Without warning he gets up, gently wrapping his hand around your arm. You look up at him with a confused look. “Before I start on this essay there’s something more important I need to do.” You get up and follow in his step. “What’s this urgent thing you suddenly need to do?” You whisper still clueless. “You.” Thedore answers sternly before pushing you into a nearby broom closet. “Boy? Really?” He snaps at you before harshly crashing his lips onto yours in the dark confined space.

Enzo

“Will you read my essay and check for mistakes?” Enzo asks while you watch the water of the black lake. You look over at him as he reaches in his bag for the parchment. “Essay?” You question. “Yeah, Snape made me write a three page essay because I missed class yesterday. Like it was my fault, if anything Cedric should write a three page essay.” You snort, knowing full well that Enzo was the one that started the fight. He hands you the essay and you immediately dig in, scanning the words carefully. Your boyfriend can’t help but stare as you underline a few words. You looked drop dead gorgeous in the sunlight, intensly focussed on the paper in front of you. Gods, my girlfriend’s a sexy nerd.

“On second thought.” Enzo whispers in your ear, leaning closer. “Maybe that essay isn’t that important after all.” You bite your lip, feeling your face heat up at Enzo’s closeness. “How about we go for a swim?” Enzo reaches for the paper, but you don’t let go, trying to resist him. However, your boyfriend knows exactly how to get your attention and he places tender kisses under your ear, tracing down your neck before his nose brushes your cheek. “Or we could just go to my room.” His husky whisper and his soft touch turn you into a willing victim for whatever he has planned.

V. Morning memories

Your boyfriend shoots up from a nasty dream. With his heart racing he immediately looks next to him to check if you’re with him. You are. You are peacefully sleeping and he feels his body relax. His hand runs over his face and through his hair as he tries to wrap his head around what he had just dreamed or remembered. Slowly he realizes that it wasn’t just a dream, it was something that had actually happened. 

You two had a fight. You left. He felt so empty. Then there was Cedric. Next the fall. 

He can’t get his heart rate down and his brain is running wild as well, so he decides to quietly get up, careful to not wake you up. He slips into his sweatpants and leaves the room, sighing once he’s finally away from your sleeping figure. He scans the common room in search of his friends. When doesn’t spot a single one of the usual suspects he frowns and Pansy patiently waits for him to meet her eyes. Finally his eyes land on Pansy. “The rest of your boy band is out.” A smirk on her face as she shamelessly scans his bare chest. She wasn’t going to deny that you had great physical taste in men. “You look distressed.” She adds after a few seconds. The wise thing for him was to turn around, but your boyfriend is in need of a distraction as he feels himself panic, worried about the whole break up situation. 

“No stress.” He says, obviously stressed and crosses his arms. “Afraid she’ll figure out.” Pansy tilts her head slowly, eyes dangerous like she’s settling on a prey. He clenches his jaw. How does she know I suddenly remember? “She won’t. We’re back together and all is fine. There’s no need for her to know that I remember.” Pansy smirks. “Would it hurt that bad to admit you made a mistake and want her back?” 

Mattheo

“We’re happy. So why waste time on pointless arguments and apologies, she’s obviously already forgiven me.” Mattheo argues, slightly raising his voice, annoyed with Pansy. “I don’t know if she’s forgiven you for the fight, but if I were I would come clean, because if she finds out you remember you’ll have to apologize twice and big time.” Mattheo grits his teeth. “She won’t find out if you don’t tell.” Pansy licks her lips and her eyes wander over Mattheo’s shoulder. “Oh, Matt, don’t you know that things are never that simple.” 

It only takes Mattheo a second to realize that Pansy’s looking over his shoulder in the direction of his room. You had woken up and come to search for him. You had heard everything he had said. Slowly his eyes roll to the back of his head, throwing his head back a little in frustration with himself. Apologize twice and big time. He turns around, but your eyes only meet for a moment as you instantly turn around to head back to his room to get your stuff and get out. 

But this time Mattheo wasn’t going to let you go. He follows you and shuts the door behind you, locking you in his room as he rests against the door watching you grather your stuff. “I’m sorry.” He whispers with his head hanging low. “Oh, now you apologize.” You huff and Mattheo groans, pushing himself off of the door and into your direction. “Princess.” He whines and you turn around to face him with teary eyes. “Were you really going to continue lying?” You ask with a shaky voice and Mattheo sighs, reaching for your hands. “Probably.” You want to turn away from him, but he holds on tightly to your hands, squeezing them to ask you to look at him. “I’ll do anything to keep you with me. I don’t want to lose you.” You pull your hands back and try to push him away. “Everything, except being honest and apologizing?” You snap and he bites his tongue, while shutting his eyes for a second. “I let you walk away! I called our relationship ridiculous! How can an apology make up for that?! (y/n), I don’t just want you to forgive me I want you to forget just like I did, because I hate what I said, I hate that I let you walk through this door.”

His loud voice has you shaking a bit, but you stay in place in front of him and he sighs, looking at you with soft eyes. “I don’t- I honestly don’t know how you can put up with my shit? I can’t forgive myself- I really don’t get why you came back to me? So yeah, I wanted to continue pretending like none of it happened. I’m sorry.” You sigh and shake your head, eyes wandering around as you struggle with his stupid explanation. “I want you back. I love you.” Mattheo whispers with a pleading voice as he takes a small step towards you, he wants to reach for your hands but doesn’t dare to, so his fingers just softly brush yours. With an angry huff you turn away from him and his heart breaks, but then he sees you drop your stuff on his bed and turn back around to face him. “I love you too, Mattheo Riddle, and you should know by now that I love you so much that I can forgive the stupid stuff you do.” In an instant Mattheo’s smiling, almost grinning, he closes the distance between you two and his arms snake around you. A gentle hand brushes your hair as he adores your pretty face and drowns in your eyes. “You’re staying?” You nod and he cups your face kissing you intensely. 

Theodore

“Yeah, it would, Pansy.” Theodore snaps and Pansy grins looking back to him. A hard noise makes Theodore turn around to face the door of his room. “Oh, Theodore, you screwed up big time.” He turns around looking at Pansy for confirmation. “She heard everything.” Theodore hurries back to his room where you are quickly gathering your uniform so you can leave. As soon as you spot him you throw the first item at hand in his direction, but he gracefully catches it. “Twat!” You yell and Theodore sighs, dropping his head. “Why can’t you just apologize like a normal person, Theo?” Theodore walks over to you and grabs your arm forcing you to look at me. “You had already forgiven me so I thought, done is done.” You frown at his cheap argument. “Really? You wanted to take the easy way out?” Theo huffs at the accusation. “So did you by just coming back to me.” Your mouth drops, was he really turning this on you. “Well, I’m sorry for that, but your bruised dumb ass just wouldn’t believe that we broke up!” You angrily pull your arm back out of Theodore’s grasp, stumbling back a few steps. 

When you try to walk past him he takes a step to block you. You try to give him a shove, but it’s to no avail, he won’t budge. Quietly he waits for you to meet his eyes. When you do you notice how soft his eyes are. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’m sorry I wanted to continue pretending like it didn’t happen, but I was so afraid that if you knew I remembered you would leave. If my memories were back there was no need for you to babysit me anymore and I can’t watch you leave a second time.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Theodore Nott you can be such an- an- urgh!” You were so annoyed with him you couldn’t find the words. “I’m an urgh?” Theo questions and now you're seriously considering punishing him in the face. When he sees you get angrier he grimaces at his own comment. “I know, I know, I’m a total urgh.” This seems to calm you down. “I’m sorry. I just want to forget about the break up again and I want you to forget as well, because I need you, I love you so much that I need you. I plan to grow old with you so yeah I thought pretending like the break up didn’t happen was a good idea.” You cross your arms. “It was a stupid idea.” You say with a stern voice and Theodore nods with sheepish eyes. “I know.” 

You sigh and now that you’re both calm, Theo wraps his arms around you pulling you against his chest. “Please tell me you can forgive me?” You listen to his heartbeat for a moment, before pulling away. “You’re lucky I love you. This was a total urgh move and I’m still a bit angry, but I forgive you.” Your boyfriend smiles and places a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling your chin up with a gentle finger. “Thanks for putting up with me.” He whispers before leaning in for a passionate kiss.

Enzo

“Why would I apologize? I got her back didn’t I?” Enzo states, rather proud of himself and Pansy gives him a funny look. “That’s a bit cheap, don’t you think? Breaking up with a girl, breaking her heart and then not even apologizing for it.” Pansy offers Enzo one last chance to decide to do the right thing as you listen, quietly standing near the door of his room. “Pans, she’s never going to figure it out, this way is just easier.” Pansy facepalms. “Enz, you’re about to get your ass dumped.” Pansy sighs and points to the door of his room open. Panic fills Enzo’s face as he realizes you might have heard something and he hurries to his room. When he notices you’re switching from your pajamas into your uniform he closes the door and chuckles awkwardly. “In a hurry?” He asks and you throw him a dark scowl. Okay, she heard. I’m such an idiot. “Thinking back about what I just said, I realize that maybe it wasn’t the best approach.” You roll your eyes at his attempt at an apology, before searching his room for your shirt, which Enzo spots before you and hides behind his back. 

“Lorenzo Berkshire! Give me back my shirt!” You say with a loud and stern voice, making Enzo nervous. “Please, sweetheart give me a chance to apologize.” You cross your arms and judge him. “I thought you didn’t want to apologize?” Your voice is dripping with irony and Enzo makes an apologetic face. “Yeah, but on second thought I think I should apologize, big time.” You tilt your head and stare him right in the eyes. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I so so so am.” Enzo pleads as he walks closer to you. “I’m just so happy we’re back together and I just wanted things to stay this way. You don’t get how much I love you. I’m miserable without you and I was afraid that if I would bring up the fight- if you knew I got my memories back then maybe we would be over again and- and- I love you, please don’t leave me.” 

You open your hand, urging him to give your shirt back and Enzo drops his shoulders, but with an aching heart he does give it back. “I’m sorry for forcing you to stay.” You take your shirt and look at Lorenzo’s sad eyes. “You’re an idiot, Berkshire.” He nods. “I know. I told the love of my life that our relationship was ridiculous and then I let her leave.” You smile at him as he looks at the floor. “But I can’t help but love you.” At those words Enzo looks up at you with hopeful eyes. “Are you forgiving me?” You chuckle. “I guess so. I love you too much.” You take a step closer to him. “Too much to stay angry at you.” A bright smile forms on Enzo’s lips, while he picks you up and twirls you around. You can’t help but laugh at how silly he is and when he sets you down again he kisses you. “We’re never breaking up again, ever.” He whispers and you nod.

Dear readers, feedback is always welcome. Sending you lots of love.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.3

John having to get high out of his mind because he knows he's invited Paul to come play with him is so so sad. These are the same guys who used to sit facing each other on a bed playing guitars for hours, and now this is them?

Is John calling Paul “Jack Lemon” a reference to “some like it hot”? Because if so, I have questions. Anyway, when your estranged best friend shows up to hang out with you and a bunch of people, talking about being in love again and getting jizzed on is extremely normal and acceptable behavior.

This jam session is so fucking painful though. Paul's doing his best to just push through and get them to actually play something and John's just too far gone.

My theory: there's two reasons he did this. 1. He's avoidant and the last thing he's going to do is let on how bad he needs John in his life and how scared he is that if John gets back with Yoko that that'll be difficult. And 2. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't. If he'd kept it from John that Yoko wanted him back and later John cried to him about how much he missed Yoko or something? Paul can't have that.

John singing a snatch of Yesterday before a take of “Whatever gets you through the Night”??? Did either of them ever write a song where they weren't thinking about the other? Did they ever have a minute of peace without the other rattling the bars of the cage in his brain?

“Hold me Darling, come on, listen to me. I won't do you no harm.” Duh it's about Paul. Oh my gosh.

And with Bless You I'm always so torn. There are so many obvious references to Paul which the doc points out beautifully, but situationally it could also be about Yoko. Maybe it's about both of them in the same way that don't let me down is about both of them.

Anyway the cosmic visuals are gorgeous.

Why'd you have to phrase it like that though? Twice?

Hall of Fame moment. It's a high point for him career-wise and he chose to pull Paul into his spotlight. Not only to sing Paul's song, not only to name-drop him, but to publicly call him an official romantic title. Not “boyfriend” or “ex-wife” which both could've been much more mocking if that's what he was trying to do. But “fiance”. It's official and respected, but it's still got the lustful, unsettled, connotation that something like “husband” lacks.

Johann Weener, everyone. What a loser.

Everyone who still refers to Lennon Remembers like it's the fucking Bible listen to this. It doesn't go on for the next five years, let alone fifty.

John refusing to walk to blocks to sign the papers when George and Paul flew over the ocean. And only on the basis of astrology. He really didn't want the divorce. My heart aches for him. But he made his bed as they say.

I'm putting on my tinfoil hat again here, but I do just have to point out that one of John's first songs, “Hello, Little Girl,” has a line that goes, “you never seem to see me standing there”. And the earliest draft of WISHST, which was started soon after, answers that line. “I saw you standing there.” (Yes, it said you originally, not her). So maybe. Just maybe. That song wasn't just a Paul song, but a song that John knew Paul had put a message in for him. Okay, I apologize for the insanity. On another note, I do wonder if he ever found out what Paul thought of that.

Interviewer: ≈ at this point, do you like writing by yourself, or do you want to write with Paul again?≈ John: ≈well it's a bit of both. It's the same for Paul. We were talking about it a week ago. Okay, cool. So they definitely talked openly and honestly about potentially writing together again.

John, about their partnership, “There was always the feeling that someone was there if you needed it.” Paired with the gayest picture ever taken and then Paul singing “if I can do anything at all, let me help.” Thanks. I hate it.

John was so excited for New Orleans! What happened? I mean I have my theory based on May's book and the sudden shift in behavior. But it's pretty dark.

You know how crazy Paul is about John in interviews now? How he can't seem to keep John's name out of his mouth? John was worse in the seventies. He's promoting his Rock’n’Roll album, talking unprompted and romantically about how he met Paul, when the interviewer reminds him what relationship he's supposed to be romanticizing right now. So John remembers too and dedicates the album to Yoko who he's just got back together with.

Biconic quote.

Interviewer asks, after John's brought him up, if John's pleased with how well Paul's doing. John expresses his relief that Ringo has "found himself a niche" and then

I really do think that last bit sums up a big chunk of how John feels about Paul, and why he feels alright playing dirty against Paul or slagging Paul off. Why it would have been the furthest thing from his mind that Paul actually struggled or was insecure. Why Paul had to remind him, “I'm only a person like you, love.”

What an insane thing to think, let alone say. What if Julian had heard that? I'm pretty sure Julian and Paul weren't in contact, really at all, until the eighties, right? So John's doing better than he is at this point (I mean he's his dad, he should be). John is insecure about every possible thing and compares himself to Paul in every possible way.

Baby. He needed some serious help. The thing that sucks about being ahead of your time is that you also have to live in a world that's behind your needs.

And then. “There's always a friendly tv channel to turn to that's going to make you feel less alone.” I wonder if Paul “Call Me Back Again, John I know you're not that tired from the baby just let me in the fucking door” McCartney heard this? It's possible with how obsessive they were, but it's also impossible with how busy he kept himself.

Okay, here's the first story we've been missing about Paul experiencing negative emotions. And, of course, as always in this doc, it's paired perfectly with “Don't Let it Bring you Down” which is the musical mission statement of Paul's clenched-jawed smile philosophy.

"I tend to get a bit absolute in my statements." Yes, John. Yes you do. Another quote that Big Lennon fans should keep in mind.

John on the three weeks he took to decide if he wanted to continue the band after the first Hamburg trip: The others were mad because we could've been making money. Yeah, John, Paul suddenly had to work in a factory after he'd thrown away an educated, white-collar career (the first in his family) to be in your band. I'd be pissed too if you just didn't even bother to call. Anyway I just hate how casual John is about it. Someone who never had to worry about money is just never going to get that.

John doesn't even remember a ballpark number of how much they were making. Paul remembers exactly bragging to his professors that he was making fifteen a week in Hamburg. Sorry to go on and on about this right before Paris, but to me it's an important difference between them.

Anyway, the fact that Paris was more than just a vacation for them. The fact that – according to Stuart and John at least – they might not have come back. It's dizzying. They really thought about just running off together. I wonder what made them decide to come back and continue the band.

No offense if you do, but I don't personally believe in this stuff. What would the motivation have been for the tarot reader to tell him that? Either way, fuck him.

Gosh the live version of “Call Me Back Again”. You feel it, physically, how bad he wants this phonecall. And the desperation from such a successful man is fantastic. Literally, John, how did it feel to be the only man in the world that could get Paul McCartney to beg? “Pretty baby” “what can I do?” “Boohoohoo babe.” “I tried the operator, but I just can't get through.”

Reporter at the Wings over America tour: No John Lennon, no George Harrison, and no Ringo Starr, just Paul McCartney. And for everyone here tonight, that seemed to be plenty! Obviously he's loving this praise after all the negative press. Anyone would, and Paul needs it more than most people actually. But I bet part of him is like “stop. Don't say it like that, they already hate me enough as it is.”

How many times has John admitted that he finds Paul attractive? “It was no surprise, you know, when the kids – girls saw him, they go ‘ooh! Ooh!’ right away, you know?”

“I know it's true. It's all because of you.” Playing over this? Are you kidding me? Anyway I've never seen the picture version of this, so I thought I'd screenshot it.

But actually, in a way, the original written lyrics to Now and Then are less depressing than what he sang on the demo. “I know it's true, I'm still in love with you, and if I make it through, it's all because of you,” is obviously sad because they're both married to other people. But at least in that version, John's saying his own personal resilience to life's struggles comes from his relationship with Paul, which is nice. Whereas when John, who is sliding into a self-hating deep depression I'm comparing himself to Paul's phenomenal success, sings “it's all because of you” in a general sense, it almost feels like a callback to the ‘I'm shit and I couldn't do anything but be a Beatle (and ride Paul's boat)’ quote. Which is heartbreaking. I wish he could've recognized his own genius.

But yeah either way it's enough to make your heart heavy. If anyone needs a good cry, just go to the last five minutes of this. That should've been the now and then music video, but Paul's too scared of feelings. Which. You know. Considering how much it affects me, I can't even imagine how much it affects him. So he gets a pass.

“Why must we be alone? It's real love. It's real.”

#mclennon #paul mccartney #john lennon #the beatles #ringo starr #george harrison #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

[drconstellation]

The Assistant Book Seller

Edit 1 Dec 2023 - added missing information on the "ribbon pattern."

Edit: 3 Dec 2023 - correct information about middle pattern from creator

GABRIEL: Greetings! I'm Jim! It's short for James, but I don't need to keep telling everyone that. I'm an assistant book seller.

I'm sorry. Before I do anything else, I need to apologize for something I need to write further in. I didn't plan to write it, I just kind of bumped into it and, well, I can't ignore it. So...sorry. It's said. Forgive me for what needs to be done.

Although he arrived with nothing but a cardboard box and Rodney the Stunt Fly, Aziraphale made sure Jim was clothed in appropriate raiment while under his protection. We'll forgive him that he took a step back about, oh, fifty years or so to the 1970's, as Jim's overall look is a nod to the famous old sitcom "Open All Hours." So if he looks a little bit out of place, or, a little bit familiar, even, that's why.

While we are used to seeing angels in overcoats, it's Jim's vest that is the particular feature here. But I will take a moment to comment on the overcoat - not just the colour but its lapels. Aziraphale has obviously given him a colour with an earthly connection and one that indicate that he has bought Jim under his protection, but the lapels look quite neutral, with one up and one down. (Muriel is the same in their Inspector uniform, btw) This is the first indication they are between two things at the moment.

Onto the vest.

There is so, so much work and thought put into this vest! It was a one-off commission for the show, and the creator, Sandy Higgins, has said she is not allowed to give away the final design pattern. I have tried to contact her, and I'm waiting for a reply, so in the mean time I thought I would ask my keen knitter of a sister-in-law about one of the patterns I'm not sure about. "Well, that's Fair Isle knitting," she said, but she knew nothing about the individual line pattern I was interested in. Hmm, I kind of know that already, its in the notes that are guiding me for this meta, but hey, why not do a broader search and see what comes up?

So once I got back home I did. "Fair Isle knitting patterns" hmm...Wikipedia page for starters...what on *earth* is that at the bottom of the page...? YOU ARE. FRIKKING. KIDDING ME!!!!!!!

"See also: Gumbys"

oh ffs

I am so sorry that needs must make me mention Monty Python yet again, but here we are. And we must mention them, because this link is just too...unbelievably, deliciously good.

If you aren't familiar with the Monty Python catalogue, and don't recognize the mention of Gumbys, they were a set of characters that dressed and spoke in a certain way but the main points to take away were they wore woolen vests in the Fair Isle knitted style and their catch-phrase was - wait for it - "My brain hurts!"

I think we've heard that somewhere before?

CROWLEY: When you first arrived, you said you were here because they were planning to do 'Something Terrible' to you. So you remembered it then. Remember it now. GABRIEL: It hurts to remember. My head isn't built for that.

Right. Now we've got that out of the way...back to the serious stuff.

The colours used in the vest are not your typical angel colours. There is a base of angelic off-white and there are some bits of purple for his royalty around the shoulder area - sometimes you need to look carefully for it. Otherwise it is dominated by vintage shades of red and green. Well. Who's an agent of change driven by love, then?

The horizontal stripe pattern is partly to remind us of the classic biblical robes with stripes that ran along them, much like the style of Crowley's black and red robe in the Job minisode, but is also part of the traditional Fair Isles pattern work. And each row only has two colours, but up around the shoulder area we do see purple start to sneak in as a third colour.

On to the incorporated symbols! I'm going to go from bottom to top.

On the lowest two we feature Crowley and Aziraphale. We have Crowley's demon satyr tail from the Good Omens logo on the lowest stripe - the double-headed arrow.

The next stripe is Aziraphale, with a variation of the classic OXO pattern ("hugs and kisses.") The X is meant to represent his angel wings, and the O is modified to mimic the "o" with a halo in the Good Omens logo. I've highlighted all three in the image on the right.

The third row up is a Sumerian Star pattern that represents one of the flowers associated with Gabriel, the lily. They are supposed to represent the purity of Mary, mother of Jesus, as he had one in his hand when he visited her during the Annunciation.

The row above that is what I believe to be a Byzantium pattern, and is included to show "an Angel's ability to be timeless."

The next three rows are still under a bit of a question mark as I write this. I plan to come back and edit it in if I find the answer.

The bottom of the three is the Duke of Buccleuch pattern, "to celebrate the long and necessary contribution that the cottage industry of hand knitted items."

The middle one - ? (perhaps you, the reader, know? It looks like a spiralling ribbon if I stand back, but that isn't sparking any connections, either.)

Edit: @noneorother tells me in a reblog (below) that this pattern represents the shoelace from the magic incantation Aziraphale uses "Banana Fish Gorilla Shoelace." So it is ribbon-like! This then points to the Second Coming, as it the shoelace references the end of the book, and the last paragraph of the book references Yeats poem "The Second Coming" as well as the novel 1984. To me it is then also telling us there is a cycle occurring, or a cycle that needs to be renewed. This fits in with some other clues other meta-writers have been picking up.

Edit 2: Turns out none of that was correct - I heard back from the creator herself and it's actually the double-ended satyr tail pattern again! It just seems to make a bit of an illusion of a ribbon or shoelace.

The pattern below is a modified OXO pattern.

The top one looks like two rams horns facing each other. A hollowed out rams horn can be used as a trumpet, and is known as a shofar in Jewish religion. Gabriel was traditionally known to carry a trumpet.

The ancient meander pattern would be recognized by most people, included as another classic timeless pattern found all over the world. For some it symbolizes eternity and endless flow.

The wheels here appear to be Michael's ophanim wheels, that would have eyes around the rims.

The hourglass is to remind us that time is running out. Memento mori - "Remember that you die." It is a major theme in both series.

Right up high, just before we lose the rest of the vest inside the overcoat, we get a glimpse of a large diamond-shaped icon. I wonder if this is another stylized set of angel wings, like we saw in the Job minisode on Aziraphale's golden collar.

To finish off the outfit, he is wearing dark gray trousers with sneakers! I'm sure that's so he could keep sneaking up on Aziraphale in the shop, haha. His shirt seems a little too large for him and the tie is knotted too high and is not settled along his centerline. It's all at odds with his previous neat and sharp appearance as Supreme Archangel Gabriel.

I'd like to say a big thank you to @aduckwithears for helping me with information on the vest and finding the creator's other social media sites. You can see their two posts about it here and here.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens analysis #aziraphale #gabriel #jimbriel #jim's vest #satyr tails #angel wings #halos #lily #meander pattern #rams horn pattern #hourglass #memento mori #open all hours #good omens costume meta #monty python #gumbys #my brain hurts! #fair isle

[janitorhutcherson]

hey bitches!! it’s e, i’m backkkk. i had a fic idea, something i think i’ll use for a lot of new content if y’all react well to it. to give y’all a run down before we get into it, this is a famous!mike schmidt au.

basically mike is josh hutcherson. reader (you) are his live in PR assistant. not sure the perfect word for it, but basically you manage his social media presence, the way he dresses, how he is in public, attend all events with him to monitor him, etc…… kinda like a babysitter….. also, could technically be a part of olderbf!mike because reader is 22, mike is 31. anywaysss..! it’s a new idea, i just wanted to set the scene. the way i’m writing this is different from usual. plz let me know what you think! if y’all like i’ll write more in this universe🤭

summary: ur actor mike schmidt’s assistant!!

warnings: angsty, just an introduction to an idea.

————————

mike schmidt was a mess, and everybody knew it. that was part of what was so appealing to the public. he was a celebrity, a famous actor, known for various movies, tv shows. he was glamorized, lived in LA just like the rest of them, edits to upbeat songs all over social media with his hips swaying from some random snippet of a trailer. yes, mike schmidt was a heart throb, but he wasn’t your typical golden boy. he wore jeans and raggedy t-shirts to interviews. his brown curly locks were always tangled and sticking in fifty different directions. his stubble was always a little too rough, his hands calloused and bruised to masculine perfection. he wore snap backs and had no sense of what a filter was. he said things as they were on stages, into microphones, or on livestreams, silly phrases coming out of his pink lips. he was carefree, not glamorous nor slouchy but instead some odd middle ground that left women with slack jaws and puddles of drool. he was what every woman actually wanted when they said they wanted a man ‘written by a woman,’ or so they thought he was.

in reality, mike was the biggest pain in the ass to walk the earth. while most 22-year-olds got to save pictures of him to their pinterest boards and kick their feet every time he came into their tv screen, you were stuck managing his every move, saving his ass from letting the wrong thing fall from his mouth in front of the wrong audience. you were his manager, of everything, really. you managed his social media, coached him through what to say during interviews, inspected the clothing he wore before events… there wasn’t quite anything you didn’t do for mike. the two of you had a weird connection since you’d started, not quite foes but certainly not friends. the air was always somewhat tense, something you were all too aware of whenever you’d have an interaction with him. you knew it needed to change, and fast.

you’d gotten the job fresh out of college, extremely eager to take such a high paying position. you were lucky and you were aware, your gratitude something you showed through your endless devotion to being the best manager, and hopefully one day friend, mike could have. when you’d first been offered the position, part of what made it so appealing was knowing not only were you being paid, but you were given a room to stay, in the same home as mike. it was crucial, living alongside your boss in order to keep him in check. when you’d walked into a meeting room after you’d accepted the position, you were debrief about mike, told he was… difficult, to put up with. he tended to push his previous managers to the limit, his somewhat childlike demeanor sending them running the other direction. you accepted this as a challenge, something to motivate you to prove that you were worth more than the other old and dried up pieces of talent they’d had in here.

oh boy, did you have another thing coming. you weren’t any different to mike. sure, you were gorgeous, your eyes a color he could drown in, your laugh something he grew oh so fond of over the past few months you’d lived with him, but you were just another manager… right? it was his job to make this difficult for you. that’s how he saw it. so, you fought like you were pulling teeth, demanding he go change before going out like he was your 14-year-old daughter when he’d come out in a bleach stained t-shirt. you’d have to keep him from posting selfies of him smoking a joint on FACEBOOK just to cause a stir. for gods sake, you didn’t care if he put them anywhere else, just please, not where all the old people were. you’d argue late at night when you’d both head back to his place, your eyes filled with fiery anger after he’d drop some stupid shit in an interview, accidentally saying something about how one of his older costars were a “dried up old fashioned hag who needed to get some.” was he wrong…? no. but that didn’t mean he could say it.

he’d always yell back, his eyes filled with just as much anger. you went about this charade almost every time something had to be done. it could be a red carpet event, an awards dinner, an interview, even simply a live stream, there was always something with mike, something to yell and scream about. you constantly tried your hardest to stress how much you cared about this job, about him even too, sometimes blurring the line between professionalism and feelings as you’d get a little too intimate about the things you’d left behind, desperate for him to understand you, to see you.

it wasn’t until one night you’d finally had enough. he’d changed outfits right before a big interview that could’ve got him in front of multiple big directors, something big, even more groundbreaking for him. he’d been in an elegant outfit that fit his body so well, just like a glove, you could only imagine. of course, he hated it. he hated being coaxed into things, told what to do, to say, and currently, both were happening. when no one was watching, he’d slipped himself into a pair of black jeans and a tank top, walking out just like that, then proceeding to insult every director there individually. you were dumbfounded. no, he wasn’t drunk. no, he wasn’t high, medicated, or under any influence. this was just… mike, and you were starting to have enough.

the moment the two of you entered the house, you’d went at it, your face red from anger. how could he? how could he go out and blatantly go against everything you’d said purely out of boredom? he was a grown man, you’d think he could do better than this. you were embarrassed, not even for yourself as who represented him even though you should’ve been, but for him. you wanted this for him. your eyes locked on his, the moment you slammed the door shut. his big, beautiful brown eyes you most definitely didn’t mind looking into, no matter how angry you were. “mike, what the fuck,” was all you could say before he stuck his hand up. he went to turn on his heel, not even bothering to listen to a word you’d have to say.

that’s when you did something you didn’t think you’d do. this time, you’d let something slip, something you’d wished you hadn’t. “mike, if this shit doesn’t stop i’m fucking quitting, i’m leaving.”

that’s all it took.

that’s all it took for him to turn back on his heel to face you, frozen. his mouth was slightly parted, his eyes wider than you’d seen them before. he looked… angry.. confused.. no, not even. he looked… sad? he fluttered his eyes, his mouth opening and closing a little. you’d known you’d lasted longer than most, but this wasn’t what you were expecting.

“don’t,” was all he said, taking a couple of steps toward you. you stood there, frozen and tense as who was basically your boss slowly moved towards you, his demeanor different than you’d seen before. he was like a lost and wounded puppy, his dark brown eyes glistening with an emotion you’d never seen in him before. he reached out, touching your shoulder. you flinched, not even because you didn’t want him to but out of instinct.

“just, don’t go, y/n. i couldn’t take it, okay? i-i’m sorry, i’m sorry i fuck around too much, i’m sorry.. i just.. i don’t want you gone,” he said, his voice was low and growly. oh. he wanted you to stay. this was the first time he’d shown any interest in you in any way other than arguing, and you didn’t know what to do. with that being said, you did what you knew how to do best.

“okay,” you simply said, nodding your head as you went to your room. that night, you’d laid in your bed conflicted about the side of the man you lived with that you saw tonight. meanwhile, while you tossed and turned in your own sheets, mike did the exact same. little did you know, you were the only person mike had ever felt a real connection with. you were the only one patient, loving, thoughtful enough to be there for him, even through his hissy fits. he adored you, your style, your walk, your laugh, your humor, and he hated it. you were in his mind 24/7 and he hated it. but no, he could never get closer, because he knew you’d leave, just like the rest, and tonight was proof.

no, if mike were to ever attempt to get closer, you’d be the one to start it. and perhaps.. perhaps you would be, perhaps this encounter would be so engrained into your brain that you think about it daily, dissecting the look on his face. but who knows? maybe next week you’ll change your mind and pack your things, walk out the door. only the narrator knows quite what’s in store for the two of you…

#josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #mike schmidt smut

[h4untedsp3ctor]

If I don't get this done by today then this will be posted late and I'm sorry 😭 suddenly got the idea to write a cute Miguel drabble

Kiss me, I'm Irish

Miguel O'Hara x gn! reader

-------------------------------

Summary: It's St. Patrick's Day, and you know the classic phrase "Kiss me, I'm Irish!" since it's on like every shirt or mug or whatever you see in stores around that holiday. But since you know Miguel is both Mexican and Irish, you thought it would be the perfect chance to take this phrase quite literal.

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, otherwise none, it's just pure fluff!! Guess the only warning is slight mention of drinking and that this will probably be short? Idk we shall see once this is posted.

Today's the 17th of March, also known as St. Patrick's Day. You kind of feel like most people use this holiday as an excuse to go out and get drunk at bars, pinch people for not wearing green, and see those cheesy "kiss me, I'm Irish" shirts. But then you remembered something. Your boyfriend, Miguel is part Irish. Suddenly you got an idea.

You see Miguel laying on the couch, fiddling around on his phone. While this isn't really a holiday you two exactly celebrate, you still want to go through with this little plan of yours.

"Hey, Miggy." You call to him so he gets your attention. He looks over towards you from where you're standing.

"Yes?" He replies while he takes his earbuds out. You can hear the faint music coming from the earbuds, but not enough to know what he's listening to.

You walk over to Miguel, kneeling down in front of him to where he's laying, and you kiss him on his lips. His soft, plush lips against your own makes you feel like you're in heaven every time you two kiss. And you'll never get tired of it.

Miguel, quite surprised, returns the action. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek, with his thumb rubbing against your skin.

You pull away to look at the man before you, admiring every single detail of his appearance. Even when he's just laying on the couch in a T-shirt and pajama pants.

"Did you just try to get my attention just for a little kiss? Hm?" Miguel asks, chuckling as he continues to brush his thumb across your cheek.

"Just know I'm not done yet." You tease, going in for a kiss on his right cheek. Then another on his left. Then on his forehead, then his nose.

Miguel softly laughs, putting down his phone and pulling you in with his strong, muscular arms to embrace you as you attack him with kisses.

"Ah, cariño! What's with all these kisses?" He sighs, smiling as you give him one last kiss, on his jawline.

"Well, do you know what day it is?" You ask, hoping he knows.

Miguel tries to think, only thing that comes to mind is today's date. "Uhh, March Seventeeth? Sunday?"

You shake your head. "Well duh! But I guess I'll just tell you. It's St. Patrick's Day, and do you know what I get to do today?"

He furrows an eyebrow, tilting his head in curiosity. "As far as I'm concerned, not really. Tell me."

You lean in closer to his face, stroking his hair as you look into his eyes.

"It means I get to kiss someone who's Irish. And you know I got to follow tradition." You chuckle, giving him a peck on the lips.

Miguel playfully rolls his eyes as he smiles again. "Oh, you're so silly. Why don't you come up here and cuddle on the couch with me instead of sitting on the floor, hm?" He suggests.

This was quite the offer you couldn't refuse after all. You get up off the floor as Miguel watches you crawl over to the couch and you lay on top of him. He pulls you in closer with his arms as you lay your head on his chest. Hearing his gentle heartbeat.

"Now isn't this better?" He says softly, almost in a whisper. You nod your head, not saying anything back.

"Good. Now, how about you give me more of those kisses? Since you want to follow tradition and all."

You lift your head up and lean in towards Miguel. "I'd thought you never ask..."

Reblogs and replies are always much appreciated 💗

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you

[herarcadewasteland]

Spin, Dare, Hide.

A/N: The full first chapter of SDH! I'm back to being motivated so you get the full chapter after so long lmao

-18+, slight violence, swearing, jisung is a little shit, ateez kinda yandere towards the end

-ateez x reader, mentions of skz because Han Jisung is your bff

1 of 2 (We'll see how much more I write from today onwards)

this is TWELVE of 14 pages i have written lol... not edited or re-read

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Spin the bottle, hide and seek and truth or dare. Three separate games Jisung had decided to combine for a game he called SDH. Spin, dare, hide. The way it worked was a little too complicated for your liking, your head going blank as you listened to him explain it eight times over. You spin the bottle, the person it landed on is the seeker. You must do a dare they ask you and then you hide. You get a minute to hide. After that minute is done, your seeker has a time limit of 3 minutes to find you. If they find you, they do what they want with you. If you aren’t found, your past seeker spins the bottle and whoever it lands on swaps out and becomes the seeker. The game continues like this until either one person has not been found by anyone or the hider is found and “dealt with”, as Jisung phrased it. The only limit to the game was the extent of pain you could put a person through with your dare. You couldn’t ask your daree to hurt themselves or anyone else in an extreme fashion. The most you could ask would be a spank or a small slap on the face, even a slap on the wrist, forehead flicks included. That limit extended to the “do whatever you want to them” prize for finding the hider. The only pain you could inflict was determined before the actions were taken and done safely with consent. 

It was something you had played with Jisung, Chan and Hyunjin before, but sitting on the floor, listening to Jisung explain it all to Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho, you wanted to be anywhere else but there. The confusion on their faces was visible, Jisung cackling as he explained the pain limits set in place. Feeling a gaze on you that you knew wasn’t Jisungs, as he was busy staring down Yeosang who had a small blush covering his face, you turned to look around. Looking past them all, you landed on Wooyoung. His gaze was… intense. He was always the flirty one but the look in his eyes was determined. Almost like he was taking the challenge of the game personally. When you met his eyes though, they cleared and he smiled at you brightly, a small one tugging at your lips in response until Jisung smacked you on the shoulder.

He was still rambling about the game and you vaguely heard a question directed at you, just nodding along as you got lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t until you heard someone choking on their drink and Jisung shouting at you in pride that you snapped back into reality and looked around the group in confusion. The reactions were different, but each man now had a darker look behind their kind eyes. Mingi had been the one to choke, his face beet red as he smacked his chest. Wooyoung sported a massive smirk, looking eerily close to the joker smile. Hongjoong was watching you look at them with curiosity and the others were all just slightly red in the face. San was the only one you could really tell what he was thinking. His lips parted as his breathing picked up, his legs crossed and he stared at you with darkened, hooded eyes. It was clear he was imagining what he could do to you if he found you but a sharp nudge from Seonghwa on his side made him sit up, his previous state gone entirely as you watched him with wide eyes. 

Jisung caught your attention again, his eyes as wide as yours as you looked at him with so much visible confusion. 

“What?”

“Did you even hear me?”

“Oh.. no… Was I supposed to? You were explaining the game. I know how it works.”, you raised an eyebrow at Jisung.

He only answered with a laugh, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he continued to explain the little details of the game he created. He gave you no indication of just what you had agreed to when you were zoned out, his attitude more cocky than usual as he held you to him tightly. You huffed in annoyance and confusion as you sat, waiting for the explanation to be over. It took Jisung about three more minutes to finish explaining everything, questions answered and players ready. 

“Okay, someone grab a bottle! It’s time to play~”, Jisung cackled and rocked with you in his hold, your eyes rolling at his maniac-esk tendencies. 

“What did I agree to? I think it’s against the rules for me not to know.”

“Wrong! I made the rules, so for you, sweetpea, it’s not gonna harm you.”, Jisung planted a loud kiss on your cheek and you grunted, shoving him away to sit on the floor in front of him.

Yunho came back into the room with a bright smile and a half empty bottle of vodka in hand, followed by Yeosang who carried a bowl of snacks to the couch to share around. You accepted gratefully, munching on a small handful as everyone got settled in a circle, Jisung excluded. You called him a traitor as the last two settled down fully, the back of your head being smacked.

“Okay, now. Let’s start with a simple round of Truth or Drink. Don’t answer the truth and someone knows you’re lying, you drink. You get away with a lie and that’s that. Got it? Good. Jongho!”, Jisung pointed at Jongho as he shouted his name, the change in volume making you jump slightly against his legs, to which he laughed.

A simple hum answered him, Jongho leaning forward in his seat as Jisung copied him. His eyes darted down to you briefly before Jisung hummed obnoxiously loud, his eyes trailing back up to meet Jisung’s.

“Do you know who has the biggest dick?”

“Yeah.”, Jongho scoffed and turned his gaze to Seonghwa, “Hyung, did you eat my lunch yesterday?”

Seonghwa had the decency to look ashamed, his ears flushing red as he covered his mouth with his hand. He simply nodded and sat up straighter, staring daggers at Wooyoung who cowered away slightly. 

“Did you take my Star Wars Lego and re-gift it to me during the holidays?”

Wooyoung choked on air, his eyes widening in fear as Seonghwa stood from his spot, rage seeping from him as he made his way to the frantically mumbling Wooyoung. Hongjoong stopped them quickly but when Wooyoung muttered a small ‘yes’ before he booked it outside, Hongjoong had no hope against the force of angry Seonghwa as he barrelled after the culprit.

You sat in your spot, lips pressed together to stop the laughter from spilling through as Jisung cackled at your back, San looked unbothered, almost like he knew about the occurrences. The others looked slightly concerned for Wooyoung as scared screams from Wooyoung echoed as Seonghwa shouted profanities at him. Snacks were passed around as the chase continued outside and was soon forgotten as you ate, conversation flowing naturally until Seonghwa burst through the door with Wooyoung, a harsh grip on his ear as he dropped him where he was sitting previously. He retook his own seat, San patting his thigh comfortingly as Seonghwa huffed in anger. You let out a small giggle, the despair in his actions pulling it from you before you could stop it. The glare was turned to you quickly and you muttered apologies and bowed your head to him repeatedly, his glare leaving his eyes soon after as he calmed down fully.

“Oh Jisung~”, Wooyoung called out to your friend, “Have you kissed Y/n?”

Gasps filled the room and your jaw dropped, staring at the cocky look on Wooyoung’s face as he sipped his drink. Jisung hummed and ran his hand over your hair, your head shaking in response to the question before he grabbed the sides of it to stop you.

“No, but I can.”, he emphasized his point by planting a kiss on the top of your head, your jaw snapping shut as you punched Jisungs legs where you could reach.

“OK, since I asked someone already, San. Would you kiss one of the people beside you?”

You watched as his head turned to either side, glancing over his friends before he nodded, “Yeah. Probably would.”

A few cries of shock followed his answer, the two to his sides blushing red as they stared at the carpet below them. You smacked Jisung’s leg again, hand reaching for the snacks as the questions were passed between the rest of the boys. Soon enough, after a few angry chases through the backyard and a few insults here and there, your name was being called by Yeosang. You met his eyes easily, head tilted in question as you swallowed the mouthful of Doritos you had been crunching. 

“Would you make out with anyone in the room…minus Jisung?”, his eyes were curious as he held your gaze but you could feel the weight of the others’ darkened eyes on your frame as you thought for a moment.

With your eyes steadily on Yeosang, you licked your lips slowly, still thinking before you no longer had to, Yeosangs answering lip lick solidifying what you were, in all honesty, pretending to think about.

“Yes. In a heartbeat.”, your face lit up with a blush as they groaned, some shifting in their spots as others hid behind their hands to save face in front of you. 

“So why don’t you?”

“What?”, your head snapped to Jisung, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched the panic course through you. 

“Make out with one of them. I dare you.”

“This isn’t the game, Jisung.”

“Good thing a preliminary game of spin the bottle is next then huh?”

You groaned and smacked him, running your clammy hands over your face as you huffed out a breath of pure tension, “I think we get that you smashed together some games and forced us to play it for your pleasure.”

A few laughs greeted your ears, Jisung’s angry huff reaching you between the laughs before you had a smack landed on the top of your head. You groaned a little and rubbed your head, glaring up at Jisung from your spot. 

“Unnecessary!” 

“Shut up. Fine, we’ll just start the game. Since our dear Y/n decided to ruin our pre-game, she’ll spin first!~”, Jisung pushed you forwards slightly, your hands catching you as you fell forward. 

You sat upright with a huff and shook your head, reaching for the bottle that Yunho still held. The level of vodka in it had dropped and you raised an eyebrow, his sheepish smile answering all your questions. You let it go and set the bottle in the middle of your circle, sitting on your knees at arm’s length away from it, you grasped the body and spun it. Watching it spin, your heart rate picked up, the bottle slowly coming to a stop as you stared at it. You didn’t want to look away from it, if it had landed on him, you knew you would be found and there was no telling just what would happen. 

You felt all their gazes on you as you stared holes into the bottle, the neck pointing somewhere to your front right. A throat clearing made your shoulders jump, your eyes flicking away from the bottle in the general direction of Jisung behind you with a glare. You took a deep breath, staring at the bottle still. Exhaling sharply as you glanced up to meet your seeker’s eyes, you froze. You were fearing being seeked out by Wooyoung but seeing Hongjoong staring you down, head tilted down slightly and to the side as he smirked, his tongue peeking out between his teeth as he watched you, you knew you had been afraid of the wrong person. 

Red rushed over your face, a sympathizing chuckle coming from someone to your left and as you glanced over quickly, you were surprised to see Yeosang smirking at you in a similar way. The blush heated your face quicker, your cheeks burning as you glanced back at Hongjoong, who had shifted to kneel in his spot between Mingi and Jongho. You met his dark eyes, his head tilting further in silence as he picked up on your spike of fear.

“The captain first. How fitting! Now, you have to give her a dare! She can’t say no.”, Jisung interrupted your staring contest, your fear dying in your chest slowly as the look faded from Hongjoong’s face. 

A bright smile pulled at the captain's lips as he watched you closely, his hands clasping together on his thighs as everyone sat in nervous silence. 

“I dare you…”, Hongjoong met your apprehensive gaze as his darkened once more, Jisung at your back oblivious to the look as he flirted with San, “I dare you to go the rest of the night without your shirt on.”

Cat calls echoed around your head, your eyes widening as you held his gaze once more, his smile dropping into a smirk in a split second as you shook your head. 

“That’s unreasonable. I’m not-”, your denial was cut off by the sound of fabric ripping, your eyes darting down at the sudden chill on your torso only to see your shirt in two halves hanging around your hips. 

You gasped in shock, one of your favourite shirts ripped so easily but as you looked to the side to see Jongho and Yeosang with similarly hovering hands, you saw red.

“What the fuck?! I get this is a game to you all but I take destroying my possessions very seriously! So if one of you wants to stop and fucking think about how much I enjoy my possessions, that would be great!”

You were fuming. Your fists clenching as your chest heaved, eyes squeezed shut in anger while you tried to keep the tears away. Silence followed your outburst, gazes set on your form as Jisung rubbed your bare shoulders. 

“Well? Is anyone gonna say something? Anything to let me know that you aren’t complete assholes?!”

The continued silence made you huff, your eyes snapping open only to make eye contact with Seonghwa who was now kneeling in front of you, eyes darker than the night sky and swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place as his hand shot out to grip your chin between two long fingers. 

“I’d watch how you talk to us if you want to make it out later.”, his voice was deeper than you had ever heard it, rivaling Mingi’s as he leaned forward to whisper darkly in your ear, “You won’t be walking out of this house normally anyways, don’t make it worse for yourself, pet.”

He pulled away abruptly, his harsh grip leaving your face as it heated rapidly, his eyes brightening as he took his previous spot. All eyes were on you as you inhaled shakily, your eyes clearing of the anger that was previously swirling in them and instead fogging over in a headspace you never thought Park Seonghwa would be able to induce, even if just slightly as he promised you your demise. 

Jisung cleared his throat sharply, smacking his hands down on your shoulders. You jumped in your spot at the touch, your mind miles away from the current situation until that moment as Jisung began rambling off the rules again. 

“One minute to hide, as soon as you leave the room, Y/N, it’ll start. Hongjoong you have three to find her. You fail, you spin and swap out. Then it starts over until we either run out of men or our dear hider is found.”, Jisung made eye contact with everyone in the room, making sure they nodded before he slapped you over the head, “Get a move on! We only have so much time.”

You nodded slowly, avoiding the eyes of everyone as you stepped to the edge of the living room, your legs hesitating mid-step as you glanced back at Jisung for reassurance. Seeing his answering nod at your gaze, you sighed lowly and booked it from the room, your steps echoing as you clambered away from the heavy energy. Jisung’s shout for the timer starting had your heart quickening as you looked into every room you could, eyes searching for that perfect spot you knew no one would look in.

You even considered the trash can in the kitchen before you heard low laughs coming from the room across from it, looking up to see San watching you. The darkness in his eyes had you sprinting from any room even remotely close to the living room, your hands shaking as you considered just jumping in the shower or the linen closet and praying that whatever Hongjoong had planned for you was innocent and painless. 

You figured that closets, under beds, in the shower or behind curtains would be searched first, followed by behind chairs in corners or large piles of blankets or clothes, your mind racing with thoughts on how you could possibly hide in a way that would ensure you would be free to win the game and have the boys fight it out as they hid amongst themselves. Jisung shouted ‘20 seconds’ into the house, the slight murmur from the group dying down slightly as you froze, head turning around the room frantically.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hide goddamnit!”, you scolded yourself, scanning every last corner of the room before you came up with a plan. 

Grabbing pants from the closet, you stuffed them haphazardly with pillows, standing them on shoes behind the curtains before closing them to create a space of darkness, Jisung starting a countdown from 15 seconds as you frantically stuffed another pair of pants to hold with you for your plan. 

“3!”

Your hands shook as you closed the door to the room, body pressed against the wall as tightly as possible to minimize the obvious gap when it opened.

“2!”

You held the pants and shoes in one arm, tucked against your chest as you covered your mouth with the waistband. 

“1!”

You heard shuffling from downstairs, your eyes closing as you tried to control your breathing. 

“Ready or not, here I come~”, Hongjoong’s voice carried up the stairs as he climbed them steadily, “I’ll find you sooner or later, bunny. You can hide, but you can’t run.”

The sharp edge to his words made you clam up, your hands slipping slightly and causing your elbow to knock against the door lightly. You gasped as quietly as you could, free hand clamping down harshly on your mouth as a shadow filled the doorway, the hallway light only silhouetting his figure as he opened the door. He swung it open slowly, his hand splayed on the wood as you waited for it to collide with your body. The hit was far from obvious as he left it to rest just centimeters from your body, his eyes narrowed and predatory as you shook slightly.

The curtain rings did you a favor, sliding slightly to adjust to the positioning and drawing his attention from the other side of the room. His smirk grew noticeably in the darkness of the room, the hallway lights seeming to glint off his canine as he stalked towards the curtains, his eyes trained down on the set of shoes just barely peeking from behind them. 

“Oh little bunny. You could’ve at least tried to get away~”, his smug look was wiped from his face as he violently pulled open the curtains, the noise allowing you to slip out of the room as Jisung shouted ‘2 minutes left’. 

The door creaked slightly as you snuck out of your spot, Hongjoong freezing as you booked it. A cruel laugh filled the air moments later as the sound of a door slamming shut took over the house. Shivers went down everyone's spines at the following laughter, his words making you stumble as you ran into the library room that was really just a desk and a few bookshelves. 

“If I find you, little bunny, you’ll wish you never ran. I’ll make sure of it. You’ll make such a pretty bunny for us, covered in our marks and drenched in our cum.”

He made no indication that he heard the door to the room squeaking but as you slid between the shelves on the wall of the door, your stuffed pants casting a shadow under the desk for him to see as he swung the door open fully, a mocking click of his tongue following, you knew he had heard it. 

“Oh bunny. You should’ve been quieter. Maybe then you would have had it easier.”, he stood still in front of the desk, his shoulders lifting with his heavy breaths as he stared down the top of it, “But poor bunny thinks we’re dumb-”

“Hey Captain! 10 seconds!”, Jisung shouted up the stairs.

“Your tricks may have worked, but whoever is next will not be as accepting of your tricks.”

“Game!”, Jisungs shout startled you slightly, Hongjoong leaving the room before he paused.

“Your little games will get you hurt, bunny. I’d be careful.”, he growled his words at you, fingers tapping against the bookshelf you were squished between as he left the room. 

You sighed in relief, slipping from your spot to breathe properly for a minute as you gathered your decoy, going back to gather your other one as Jisung shouted up to you that you have some extra time as the bottle spun. Your hands steadied quite quickly with the news, your hands working double time to stuff some more pillows into pants, placing one behind the curtains again, another in the shower, replacing the one under the desk and shoving one under a bed. All that was left was you, Jisung’s call of your official time starting putting the shake back in your hands.

You had one minute to hide again, your decoys calming your mind slightly until you ended up in front of the locked door at the very end of the hall. The red light that was usually on in the room was absent for now as you stared at it, a call of 30 seconds shaking your mind as you turned away from it, stumbling into the closest room you could reach. 

You looked around frantically, eyes finding the doors that led to a small balcony quickly. You huffed but gave in, opening the doors with a huff. You could hide behind chairs, the giant potted plant or you could stand on the edge and pray no one walked out. SIghing heavily, you pressed yourself against the wall beside a large plant right by the doors. A faint shout of Jisung’s voice told you that the new seeker was out and searching for you. Opening doors slowly sounded less muffled as he approached the room you were in, his voice muffled while he searched for you. The door to the room opened slower than the rest of the doors, the slow squeak of the hinges making you cringe as you pressed yourself against the cold wall. 

“I see you know what you’re doing. I don’t appreciate these little games you think you can get away with, doll. When we find you, you will regret it. Mark my words. If I don’t ensure it, then I know for a fact that the others will when they find out your little mind games. Jisung forbade us from telling the others what happens on our hunts…”, a door slammed open, “So you’re safe with your little decoys until someone doesn’t fall for them.”

The growl his voice took on was bone-chilling, the anger and anticipation behind it making you shiver more violently than the cold breeze had been, your entire body tensing as the patio doors opened one by one. 

“You’re lucky my time just ended, doll. A shame we don’t get to play just yet… I’ll have my chance with you and by god will you regret everything.”, his head poked through the doors, making eye contact with you immediately and you whimpered.

The smirk on his face was nothing less than cruel as he watched you shiver, your eyes wide as he watched you until you gasped, fully registering your situation. You shook your head, hands waving in front you as you stepped back slightly. 

“J-Jongho no, t-the time ended!”, your voice trembled as he watched you panic, an easy smile replacing his smirk.

“I’m aware, doll. It’s best you come inside for now if you keep planning to hide out here. You’ll get sick.”, he tugged you inside, his large hand warm against your smaller one as the warm air of the house washed over you.

“Thank you…”, you murmured as Jisung shouted for Jongho again, his heat disappearing back downstairs to spin the bottle as you warmed up slowly.

The minute it took for the bottle to land and Jisung to shout up to you felt like ages, your last decoy being replaced under blankets on a bed. Your brain was short-circuiting. You had no idea who was next, it could be Wooyoung, it could be Seonghwa or it could be Yeosang. Either way, you were terrified of those three for the moment as you slotted yourself under the bed the decoy was on. It was a dumb spot and you would be lying your ass off if you said you couldn’t hear past your own heartbeat for a few seconds as footsteps trailed up the stairs, oddly heavy for any of the boys. 

The sound of two doors swinging open at once sent alarm bells off in your head again as you picked up on two separate footstep patterns entering rooms opposite your hiding place. You had closed the door to be extra safe, leaving the door to the room of your last hiding place open just to throw them off. Regret filled your panicked being as you watched four shadows extend from under the door to the room you were in.

Of course they sent up two and of course Jisung allowed it. Why wouldn’t he? He was always rooting for your failure in a best friend way, just as he was always trying to get you laid. Maybe that was his plan with this godforsaken game, you thought. The door opened slowly with an extended creek sending shivers down your spine as you indirectly met Wooyoung's dark gaze from under the bed, San’s sharp eyes scanning the room slowly, gaze just as filled with a promise of danger.

Watching San’s arm lift to point subtly at the decoy on the bed, you let out the smallest whimper you could, hands clasped over your mouth and nose to hide your heavy breathing as they approached opposite sides of the beds. 

“Oh princess. You could have hid so much better!”, San’s voice was overly cheerful as you watched his foot tap in eight counts.

“Unless our little baby just couldn’t wait to be found~”, Wooyoung's voice matched San’s cheerful tone as he added to the teasing.

The swoosh of blankets covered the noises of shock they no doubt made, the muted thump made your heart race, knowing they wouldn’t leave the blankets on the floor to sweep up the dust of the day. The veined hands gripping the pile confirmed your thoughts, a slight peek of hair nearly exposing your spot as they bent to pull the covers over the decoy. They whispered to each other, the annoyance hidden in their tones now present as they scanned the room once more before they left with heavy steps.

Their posture screamed disappointment but being under the bed stopped you from seeing the small smirk shared between them as Jisung called time moments after your door closed. The silence and heat building in the room suffocated you slowly, your hands fumbling with the door until you were able to breathe in different air, your mind racing at the possibilities of them sending up another group of two, maybe even a group of three if Jisung was feeling like causing more chaos. 

The troublemakers next call of your time had you rushing into the bathroom, hands fumbling with the decoy to chuck it outside, no longer caring if it led whoever was next straight to you. You were flustered, scared and becoming increasingly panicked at what the others were planning as they sent away each seeker. A heavy set of footsteps trailed slowly up the stairs, your mind jumping Yunho as the stairs creaked under the weight of whoever was ascending. They had to be larger than Hongjoong or Yeosang, their stature a little too small for you to believe it was one of them making their way up

. Your thoughts came to a sudden stop as you heard a mumble, his deep voice chilling you to the bone as you realized it was probably Mingi who was now searching for you. You weren’t afraid of Mingi for the game, but he was observant when he needed to be and he needed to be, so you were concerned. Your hands trembled as you flattened yourself against the bottom of the tub, the showerhead staring you down threateningly as the sound of his footsteps got closer. 

The panic clouding your brain hid the change in heaviness of the steps, the lighter tone of the voice responding to someone you could only pray was downstairs, but hearing no shout from Jisung at that moment, you just knew they had sent up an overly coordinated pair. That, or they walked so slowly up the stairs trying to match their steps that they lost all of their time, Jisung’s voice shouting ‘5 seconds’ confirming your running thoughts as 3 separate voices began complaining. You could recognize the tones of Mingi, Yunho and Yeosang. A shiver traversed your spine as you realized that Yeosang could have found you in that moment, their overly careful planning to walk up the stairs saving you for one last round. Saving you for Seonghwa. 

Sitting up in the tub, you couldn’t help but think that maybe leaving you to Seonghwa last was on purpose. The feeling he gave you before, surrounded by the other boys in the circle only spelled danger and dominance. You were terrified of it. The sharp change in the way he acted towards you to how he acted on the regular like a Care Bear murdering a child. Unexpected and completely out of the usual character you were used to. Your mind raced at the hiding spots you could get away with, mentally checking off places you hid decoys or hid for the others until you reached the small office room in your pacing, Jisung’s delayed call of your start time only fueling your fear knowing that Seonghwa had probably asked for his call for your time to start later. Letting you sit in your panic, letting it build slowly for him to make it burst when he began his hunt.

HIs confidence was overwhelming from that one non-verbal cue to you and you knew he would find you, probably paid off Jisung to let the guys tell him where you were so he could narrow down your location. He was already in your head and Jisung had just called your start time, your hands shaking as you closed the office door slowly so the hinges wouldn’t creek as they did when Hongjoong had followed you into the room previously. 

Your decoy sat under the desk still and you sighed, deciding to hide between the shelves on the far right side of the room, the desk nearly perfectly parallel to your small hiding spot. Hongjoong’s mocking call of ‘ready or not, here he comes’ did nothing to help your nerves, your hands sweating against the dark wood of the bookshelf in front of you, your ears straining for any sound of Seonghwa that you couldn’t find.

He was deadly silent climbing the stairs, no doors squeaked as they opened (if he opened them) and you were trembling as the door to the office slowly swung open. The large, veined hand on the wood was the only thing giving away his presence until he stepped into the room, eyes fixed on the desk with an intensity you never saw in his eyes. His lips curled at the shadow under the desk, his head tilting as his tongue poked out to run over his plush bottom lip.

“I appreciate your commitment to the decoy under the desk, pet. It’s clever. For dumb little girls who don’t know when to give themselves up.”

His voice was deep again, eyes never leaving the desk as he approached it, hands slamming down the surface. He hung his head slightly, his fluffy hair dropping to hide his eyes from your  fearful gaze. 

“I’ll give you a choice, pet. You come out of your own free will, walk downstairs with me in that pretty little bra and we go easy on you.”, he scoffed out a small laugh, his hands drawing your attention as he reached into his pocket, a small pocket knife glinting in his pretty hands, “Or~ You don’t. I pull you from that pathetic little hiding spot and drag you down those stairs where you get used by us until you can’t even lift a finger. Jisung was a good little boy…”

The silence made him hum, his hand flipping the knife open and closed over and over with a steady click. He laughed mockingly as the silence carried, your stubbornness amusing him as he tilted his head.

“He was too easy for San to seduce. All it took was a few touches on his thigh, some compliments and he was caving, telling us all your dirty little kinks. Yeah he gave us everything we needed to know. And then he left!”

His cruel laugh made you tear up. Of course Jisung caved to San’s false advances. The fucker probably took the car too, not even leaving you a text to explain how he fed you to the wolves. You were drawn from your angry thoughts towards Jisung by the rough scrape of the blade on the wooden surface of the desk. 

“I’ll give you… one minute. You had a minute to hide for us. You get a minute to decide how good you want to be for us.”, He was standing up straight again, his fingers drumming the desk as he put the knife away. 

The silence was only broken by his drumming and a slow, mocking countdown to your inevitable demise, his voice deep but airy as he counted to your end. Your heartbeat was rapid in your chest and you could swear if Seonghwa was silent for even a second, he’d hear it pounding against the wood of the bookshelf. Your thoughts overwhelmed your awareness of your actions, your breathing getting a little out of hand with your increasing heart rate as the countdown dropped to ‘5~’ and suddenly stopped.

By the time your mind caught up with the lack of counting and the heat of the darkened eyes suddenly on you, a harsh grip was on your hair, pulling you from your spot roughly. You hadn’t even seen him move, your legs buckling at the sudden motion, causing you to stumble into Seonghwa’s chest, his eyes beating down on the top of your head as you pushed away from him slightly to get some space for your racing thoughts to calm. You had no time to begin to calm yourself as his soft lips brushed your ear teasingly, his voice nothing but a growl as he whispered to you. 

“Run for me now, pet. Let’s have some fun~”

Your mind ran blank as he nudged you towards the door, your feet carrying you faster out of the room, your panic leading you to the bathroom once more, closing the door with much more force than necessary. The coldness of the tub stole your breath as you laid down again, the reflection of the showerhead letting you see the door open slowly just as every other door had. The image was too distorted for closer objects, a slight blur showing you Seonghwa’s figure walking further into the room but not allowing you further sight on him. You closed your eyes, trying to calm your breathing and your heart to listen to his movements.

Hearing none, just a slight shuffle you were sure you made, you opened your eyes just in time to see his large hand twisting the cold water tap for the shower. You gasped at his hand, his dark eyes peeking around the curtain just as ice cold water poured down onto you from above, your eyes closing as you shrieked at the cold, hands raising to try and block some of the stream. They were soon tugged down though, a new face hovering above yours as you thrashed about in the tub, heart racing as you glanced up.

———

part 2

there’s just something about cruel seonghwa that gets me going istg

#herarcadewasteland #fem!reader #ateez au #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic #reader insert #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #mentions of skz #han jisung x reader #yandere ateez

[cassiefromhell]

Unexpected (pt. 6)

Part One Part Five

Fanbase: acotar

Eris x Reader x Azriel

Summary: Eris, freshly mated to you and volatile as ever, has walked in on you and Azriel in a hostile position... what will he think? It's up to you to diffuse the situation.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: fingering, dirty talk, suggestion of oral

A/N: Requests are OPEN! Check my pinned message for details on what I'll write <3 (anything from hc's to drabbles to fully blown fics! ever had a great fic idea but cant write? send em over!!). Thank you so, so much for the notes on this lil series! I read all comments and reblogs.

In the split seconds that follow Eris’s arrival, things go down far too quickly for me to comprehend well. 

As Eris’s expression turns to rage, Azriel realizes the gravity of the situation before I can even react. He releases me from his death grip, gently nudging me away from himself and backing up.

But he was too slow; Eris saw the hold he had me in, and he’s descending on Azriel.

I step forward — honestly, involuntarily, for I did not tell my body to put myself between two very opposing males — and Eris collides with me. “Eris, Eris, love, look at me. Look at me. I’m okay.”

Eris doesn’t even spare me a glance, but he does place a protective hand on my lower back, which means I have his attention. But his whole body is tense and ready to pounce at Azriel.

I continue to soothe him, rubbing circles on his chest. “I’m okay. We were just having a little fun with sparring. Nobody got hurt—”

“That was not sparring,” Eris hisses, eyes narrowing further. “I could hear you down the hall—you were asking him to let you go—”

“You act as if I had her in a chokehold,” Azriel adds, his voice coming from behind me. “She can hold her own — unlike you. I could kill you in an instant.”

His comment causes an immediate growl from Eris, and the red-haired male gently pushes me aside, and then lunges for Azriel.

The movement is too fast for me to react in time, and Eris knocks Azriel to the ground, sending the two sprawling across the floor.

Groaning, I pinch the bridge of my nose, one phrase on loop in my brain: Stupid, aggressive males. Stupid, aggressive males.

I let them brawl for around twenty seconds, wincing when Azriel lands a solid punch to Eris’s nose, but wincing harder when Eris swiftly kicks Azriel’s groin. The sharp cry of pain from that, quite literally, low blow makes me decide that enough is enough.

I stride over to them, then wait until Azriel is on top of their little rolling spree, knowing that he’s more likely to listen to me. When that happens, I speak, my voice demanding and echoing throughout the room. “Enough.”

That word in my signature ‘listen up buckaroo’ tone is enough to make both males pause and look over to me.

“I said, enough. Get off, Azriel, before I drag you by your scruff like a mangy dog — because that’s what you’re both acting like.”

Azriel, with his tail between his legs, gives Eris one last sharp glare before standing, shuffling away.

Eris is on his feet immediately, not looking quite ready to let him go.

“Eris!” I shout, stepping in front of him and grabbing his shoulders. “Look at me. Eris!”

It takes a moment, but he does relent, my first mate’s eyes shifting down to my own. 

“He’s hurting more than I am now. You’ve gotten your petty revenge. Now sit down, and listen,” I scold him, pushing on his shoulders.

Obediently, he sits on the ground. He knows my rage, and he’s learned that a happy mate keeps your life straight.

I whirl, putting my hands on my hips. Azriel is standing there, silent as ever, his shadows angrily swirling. His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, concealing his burnt—and likely now bloodied—hands. His attention is trained on Eris, seeming moderately amused that I have him on the floor like a scolded puppy.

“You too. Sit. Now.”

He too sits, but after more hesitation and a skeptical look towards me. The faint amusement on his features vanishes.

I stride to be standing directly between the two. “I will not tolerate any more anger-fed, impulsive, and frankly violent tendencies between you two. If you’re fighting for me, then do it better — I don’t know, buy me flowers or something. If you’re angry about our whole double-mate predicament, take it out on someone else. Yell at a council member, Eris. Spar with a particularly annoying Illyrian, Azriel. You know what? If you reaaaally need to get out the urge to punch each other’s teeth out, go ahead. But not in my presence. If that’s what you need, then you get a licensed sparring referee to watch you two and make sure no-one dies. But don’t go complaining to me.

“Eris,” I turn to face the male in question, flashing my teeth as I speak. “You will learn to accept that Azriel is also my mate. We’re bound to spend time together, and I understand that we’re freshly mated and you encountered us in an irregular position, but you need to leash your anger towards him.”

I hadn’t planned much of a lecture for Azriel, but a quiet, mocking “leash it, like your hounds” from behind me has me turning to face him once more.

“And Azriel,” I continue, raising my voice an octave. “You will behave. You will watch your mouth. You know better than to egg on a volatile, freshly mated male, especially in front of his female. Do you understand?”

Azriel bites his tongue like he’s refraining from insulting Eris one last time… but he nods.

“Eris. Do you understand?” I ask, crossing my arms.

The red headed male nods, more eagerly than Azriel had.

“Good. Now, both of you up.”

Equally obediently this time, they each rise. 

“Shake hands.”

Eris scowls, giving me a sidelong glance. “Love, you know how I feel about this. I will be civil, but—”

“Don’t make me force you to promise each other eternal pacifism and harmony.”

Eris immediately holds out his hand.

And, thank the Mother, Azriel shakes it.

“Good,” I sigh, running a hand down my face. “Eris, put away my harp. Azriel, I will visit Velaris in four days’ time. I expect you to be here to pick me up.”

Azriel blinks for a moment, then grins. “I’ll be there.”

Eris makes a pouty face, but I manage to brush it off for now. I’m not very good at resisting a clingy Eris, however, so I know that I need to take my leave.

I turn to the exit and leave, slamming the door shut behind me. I have to trust that those two will either talk it out or disperse on their own terms, because I am desperate to get out of the palace after the deadly combination of this encounter and so many days spent in our chambers. Not that I haven’t immensely enjoyed them.

But, honestly, my hips need a break.

An hour later, I sit high up in a tree, deep in the luscious forest surrounding the Autumn Court treehouse-style castle. 

My horse, a disagreeable andalusian mare with a stunning dapple gray coat, is tied to the trunk of a nearby tree. I’m sure she’s happily eating apples or picking the bark off of a stump.

I find these woods incredibly calming. The rustle of leaves, the crunching of pebbles under the hooves of animals — it creates a soothing atmosphere. 

Eris has graciously left me this time on my own. I’m sure he could sense through the bond how upset I was about all of the fighting — I have enough on my plate as it is. However, he won’t be able to stay away for much longer, not with being freshly mated and all.

Right on cue, a soft tugging comes from Eris’s end of the bond. I hesitate, but then match his little tug.

Not thirty seconds later, Eris winnows to a branch above me. First I feel his eyes on me, then hear a soft sigh, and then the shuffling of leaves as he climbs down to my level. He is wordless the whole time, slipping into my branch and sitting behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He tucks his head against my neck.

Equally silently, I reach back and stroke his hair.

We sit there, straddling this tree branch, for an incalculable period of time. It could have been two minutes, or two hours, I find myself genuinely unsure. 

Eris is the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry for causing you unneeded and unwarranted stress,” he mumbles against my skin. “I love you. So much. And I just want you safe… and happy. Even if that means that you accept Azriel, too.”

Sighing softly, I tilt my head to kiss his forehead. “I love you, too. And I know you do. I accept your apology wholeheartedly.”

He grins against my neck, gently biting my skin. “That’s good, because I wasn’t going to last the night without dragging you back to me by your hair.”

“By my hair?”

“Did I stutter?”

I laugh softly, gently taking his jaw in my hand. I tilt his head up to face me, then give him a long kiss.

Eris leans into it, pulling me closer. When we finally part, he murmurs against my cheek, “Four days, hm?”

“I came up with it on the spot… but yeah. Scores us four more days alone, and then I go to visit Azriel in an environment where you won’t be shooting him glares and scowls and rude little quips—”

“I was not the one making the rude little—”

“Eris.”

“Sorry, love.”

I turn to face him, my legs laying over his. We stare at each other for a very long time, before he smiles and kisses me softly. 

“You know, a lot can be done in four days,” he croons, rubbing my lower back, and then slipping his hand around to my front, over the seam of my trousers.

Whimpering, my head rests against his shoulder. “Eris… As much as I want it, my hips need a break,” I whine, though my body betrays me as heat pools under his touch.

“We don’t need to move your hips at all,” he soothes me, leaving gentle kisses along my neck as he palms me. “Let me take care of you, little flame.”

I open my mouth to, I don’t even know, object? But how could I say no to this, to the delicious sensation his hand is bringing me even through fabric? So instead, I nod, whimpering softly. “Please.”

With Eris and I temporarily gaining a break from the mating frenzy this morning, I had nearly forgotten the intense pull that builds in my abdomen now, the sharp need seeming to stem from my very soul, pulling me towards him — and dampening my underwear.

And so when his hand works its way into my trousers and breaches my folds, I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Eris tugs me a little closer, so that our bodies are flush against each other, only his hand between us. His touch is gentle right now, thumb dancing circles around my clit and his pinky finger tentatively dipping inside of me. Even the light contact has my heart racing, blood thrumming in my ears.

“So wet for me, already,” he purrs, pushing in his ring finger as well, slowly thrusting in me out. His other hand holds me close as he speaks into my ear. “Such a good girl. My perfect little mate.”

My hips involuntarily buck forward as his thumb presses against that sensitive bundle of nerves, but his other hand grips my thigh tightly.

“Ah,” he growls, shaking his head. “You said your hips needed a break. So keep them still.”

He switches his pinky out for his middle and pointer fingers, slowly thrusting in and out, in and out.

My whimpers shift into moans, and I find myself biting his shoulder to muffle them. His fingers continue to work magic on me — indescribable, fiery magic. And soon, my abdomen begins to tense and flutter, and I murmur a quick, “please.”

“I know, love,” Eris whispers against my ear, quickening his pace. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

With a sharp cry, my release comes. Pleasure and pressure wash over me and up my spine, making me instinctually close my legs around the overstimulation at my apex. Panting, the sensation seems endless, until I manage to float back down to reality, immediately registering Eris’s voice.

“You look so pretty when you cum on my fingers,” he croons, kissing the shell of my ear. “So innocent.”

“Innocent?” I ask, raising a brow. “When I’m orgasmic and moaning, I look innocent?”

Eris grins, sneaking in a few kisses at my pulse point. “It’s hard to explain… but yes.”

I reach down, seizing his wrist and pulling his hand out of my panties. His fingers glisten with my slick, and without hesitation, I bring them into my mouth… and suck.

“Still innocent?” I speak around his fingers, allowing a soft moan to slip from my throat, gagging a little as my lips meet his palm. 

It’s hard to miss the tent that pops up under the fabric over his crotch.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the crunching of footsteps over leaves interrupts our peace.

Eris sighs heavily, retracting his fingers and fixing my trousers for me. I watch his deft fingers button and straighten my pants with lust-filled, hooded eyes, tongue flicking across my lips. He gives me a ‘wait a moment’ look, and then shifts his attention to the ground.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” He calls down.

My hand reaches for the button of his own slacks, but his fingers capture my wrist without even sparing me a glance.

Damn Fae instincts.

“Apologies, my lord,” a voice calls up — he has quite the regal tone, so perhaps a guard or even a low-ranking, attention-seeking courtier. “But Lord Lucien was looking for you — something about a starry mate matter? He was rather cryptic, my lord.”

Eris groans, leaning his head down to rest on my shoulder. He whispers, “It’s always him. Always.”

It takes me half a second longer to realize what that message means. It’s an Azriel matter. Of course it is. Azriel being my other mate has yet to be exactly… announced… so far, so Eris’s brothers and very few servants or guards know of the situation. It’s no surprise that Lucien is trying to be discreet.

“Tell him I’ll meet with him in just a moment,” Eris calls down, then looks at me and speaks in a hushed tone. “I’m sure he just wants to speak of your departure in four days — I informed him earlier. I’ll meet you in our rooms later.”

“Eris,” I whine, nipping his nose with a graze of my teeth. “Can’t you feel it? The bond is—”

“I know, my love,” he murmurs, capturing my chin between his forefinger and thumb. “And I will make it up to you tonight. I’ll even bring you those smutty little romance books you like and let you recreate a scene with me.”

That satiates me. “Really?” A smile spread across my lips, my posture straightening.

“Yes, really,” he grins, pecking each of my cheeks and then giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “Look forward to that.”

And with that, he leaps from the tree and disappears down the path.

“I’m bringing a hound?”

“Yes.”

“A hound? This is a stake of dominance if I’ve ever seen one.”

“It’s not just any hound,” Eris whines, gesturing to the blonde bitch at my feet, sitting at attention with her ears in the air. “She’s your favorite hound. You love her. You even sneak her extra treats.”

I roll my eyes, kneeling to stroke the dog. She leans into my touch only slightly, but remains at attention, ready to take orders. “Yeah, because look at her. She has the prettiest blue eyes. How could I say no to that face? Hmmmm? How could I say no to this sweet baby?” I nuzzle the hound’s ear, cooing to her. 

When I look back up, Eris is giving me his best puppy dog face. 

“Oh, come now,” I groan, giving his leg a light push. “I’m sure Azriel would not appreciate me bringing Kelpie, whether she’s your dog or mine — she’s still an Autumn Court hound.”

Eris shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “First of all, I’ll never get over you naming a bitch Kelpie. Secondly, I’m sure if you bat your eyelashes and ask nicely, you can bring her,” he raises a brow, “and I want you to please bring her.”

“Why?” I groan, standing once more and bracing my hands on my hips. “So that you know that I’m safe? I am perfectly capable of protecting myself better than a dog can.”

“It’s for my peace of mind,” he begs, stepping forward and tipping my chin up to look at him. “Please, little flame?”

“No.”

“……Please? For me?” Eris juts his bottom lip out, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

The four days left in Autumn have flown by, and Azriel will be here to pick me up any moment. Which perhaps, maybe, has me questioning my resolve on this matter. I know Azriel will let me bring Kelpie, but honestly it might end up feeling like Eris is watching me.

However, the face he’s making…

I groan heavily, eyes shuttering. “I really hate you, you know that?”

I can feel his grin as he kisses me, one hand sneaking around my waist. “That sounds like a concession, because you know you love me.”

Opening my eyes once more, I give his chest a gentle nudge. “I’ll bring the hound. But if I sense any funny business, and I mean any—”

“Yes, yes,” Eris smirks, patting my head, “you’ll have my ass. I know.”

“Damn right she will.”

I whirl around to find Azriel standing there, arms crossed across his leathered chest. 

“Right on time,” I say, with a glance to the clock. “I hope you don’t mind, but I wish to bring a dog from home. Just for comfort, you know?”

Azriel nods, striding to my side and kneeling to stroke the hound’s side. “That won’t be an issue. What’s her name?”

“Kelpie,” I say, patting her head.

Azriel pauses, and glances at Eris. “Did you…”

“She did,” the High Lord responds, gesturing to me. “And I will never understand why.”

“It’s a perfectly capable name!” I huff, crossing my arms. “You males are just too ridiculous to see the creativity in it.”

Azriel stands with a shrug, and then holds his arm out to me. “Are you ready to go?”

I give Eris a small smile as he hands me my bag, and I take it and Kelpie’s collar in one hand, taking Azriel’s arm with the other. Eris and I had said our goodbyes before Azriel had arrived, and before our hound discussion, so there’s no need for that now.

“Yes,” I reply.

And with that, we are enveloped in shadows.

Velaris is a beautiful city, and the place we are staying in is even more beautiful — they call it the House of Wind. 

However, on the topic of wind, I would have appreciated it more at first had someone, anyone, warned me that in winnowing in you have to either fly or drop the last few yards. 

When our winnow ended and I found myself midair and then suddenly in Azriel’s arms, shooting down onto the balcony, I was not pleased. Luckily, the Illyrian had the foresight to grab Kelpie, so she’s fine, but the whole experience was very jarring. 

“I would have appreciated a warning,” I had told him once we landed, holding a hand over my mouth to ease my queasiness.

“I didn’t think you’d be afraid of heights — I’m sorry, it’s so normal to me that I failed to even consider it,” he apologized over and over, placing a protective hand over my lower back.

“I am not afraid of heights, I am afraid of falling.”

That ended the conversation.

Which is why now I sit in the room they prepared for me, resting. Azriel thought it’d be best for me to be able to settle in a little bit before lunch, after which he’ll take me on a formal tour of the city, and then there will be a dinner at a dwelling known as The River House — Rhys has sent me paintings and descriptions of it times before, so that one isn’t new to me. I do still find it a tad bit curious that I was never informed of the existence of the Wind house, but I decided earlier not to ask.

There are a few extra tidbits I’ve learned about the building I sit in now: it can hear you and will do essentially anything you want, and it houses Cassian and a female named Nesta. I’ve been informed in past letters that she’s one of Feyre’s two elder sisters, along with Elain. I’ll be meeting her tonight, at dinner.

One thing I do know is that I like this place. I was told that the House itself arranged my room based on paintings and descriptions of me, and it’s done a fine job. A bookshelf lines an entire wall, filled with literature that, at a glance, seems to be precisely my type. It placed a knife under my pillow and on my nightstand, which is very typical ‘me’ behavior. When I first stepped in, a steaming cup of my favorite tea was placed on a desk, next to a book titled ‘Velaris: Myths and Lore of the City of Starlight.’

The house likes history.

Currently, I sit in a comfortable lounge chair, that book in my lap and tea in hand, reading up on my historical and mythological events.

I’ve been here for around an hour when the door swings open, revealing Azriel.

“Hi,” I say, closing my book. “Come to collect me?”

He gives me a quick once over, nodding. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

“Of course,” I reply, taking the final sip of my tea — but when I shift to put the items on a table, they vanish. “I must admit, that’s a tad unnerving.”

“You get used to it,” Azriel responds with a shrug, extending his arm. “Now, let me show you Velaris.”

“This time, I hope you’ll warn me before plummeting us to a certain doom,” I grin, taking his bicep gently.

He returns my grin with a wry smile of his own. “Only if I feel like it.”

Azriel’s tour of Velaris was exquisite. He showed me each quarter of the city, the squares for creative people, especially the musicians one — where I walked away a happy customer with a new, magic infused, harp cleaning cloth. Azriel carries it for me in a small paper box as we walk along the Sidra to our next destination: dinner.

“I hope you’re not too nervous,” Azriel starts, tensing a little at my side.

I raise a brow, a piece of hair falling over my temple. “Why would I be? I already know Rhys and Mor, and I’ve met Feyre and Cassian.”

He remains rigid, so I slow to a stop, tugging his elbow to turn him towards me. He says nothing, but does make eye contact.

He’s not exactly lying. But I do have the feeling that he’s omitting information. And as a spy, he must be rather good at it.

“What do I need to know, Azriel?”

A pause. The calculations passing through his mind are visible in his eyes, which sets me in an uneasy state. I find myself gripping his arm tightly now.

But the moment has been stretched out in my mind, because not even two seconds later, he replies. “There will be a couple extra people at the dinner. Their names are Gwyn and Emerie — Nesta’s friends.”

“Good. An imbalance leaning the female way is never a bad thing. Offsets you males and your volatile behaviors,” I laugh, my voice ringing through the air with the sound.

I’ve almost forgotten the way that he paused before he told me that. Like he was deciding what, exactly, to tell me.

Almost.

But when I open my mouth to inquire more, I find that we’re already on the gravel path leading up to the river house, so I snap my jaw shut and resolve that going in half-blind will be my fate.

The door swings open, and out comes Mor, who rushes over and sweeps me out of Azriel’s hold, ushering me into the house and buzzing like a bee. “Ah! I’m so glad you’re here — happy to have you back in the Night Court. Is this your first time in Velaris? Oooh, has Az shown you the city? I hope that—”

“Mor—” I cut in, to no avail.

“—he’s given a good tour; he misses all the great places. Did he show you Rita’s? We love that place! I heard you officially mated with Eris — uhm, good for you. What exactly are you doing here anyway? I thought you and the oh-so-mighty High Lord would still be in a little bubble, so I have to wonder— oh, hey, are you hungry? Since we made a—”

“Mor,” I successfully cut in, and she stops, looking over to be with a raised brow. “I’m happy to see you too. And I’m starving. So, lead the way to the food.”

A snort comes from behind me, undoubtedly Azriel. Mor nods and agrees however, placing a hand on my back and shepherding me towards the source of the food smell. 

I know that Cassian has joined Azriel behind me when the sound of wings colliding occurs, followed by hushed whispers.

But I’m distracted rather quickly as I’m led into the dining room, which is full and bustling with people, some that I recognize and some that I don’t.

I immediately spot Rhysand and Feyre, although they’ve spotted me first, judging by the dinner roll that’s hurtling towards my head. The first time I met Rhys, I defended myself by throwing a sandwich at him, so this has sort of become our tradition. My hand snaps out in front of me, catching the bread. I examine it, then take a bite. 

“First of all, are you ever going to get over this joke? Second of all, this is really good bread. Who made this?” I scarf down the food, walking over and taking a seat to Rhys’s left, Feyre already on his right. Azriel quickly takes the seat next to me.

A petite female across the table warily raises her hand. “Oh, I did. I baked the bread,” she explains. Her voice sounds like falling rose petals on a warm autumn day, and gives off the scent of lavender and honey.

“Hi,” I smile to ease her obvious nerves, holding my hand out. I introduce myself, and she shakes my hand.

“Oh, this is Elain, my sister,” Feyre cuts in, gesturing to the brunette across from us. 

“Ah, yes — I’ve heard from the letters.”

“Lovely to meet you, then,” Elain adds, smiling softly. Then her eyes flick to Azriel, her cheeks color, and she looks back to me. “You must be… Azriel’s.. friend? I was told you were visiting.”

My eyebrows draw together, and I glance at Azriel, and then back to Elain. I open my mouth to ask why she’s being so weird about the fact that I’m his mate, but then I realize the way she’s openly biting her cheek and stealing glances at the Illyrian by my side. It’s suddenly abundantly clear; either she has a thing for Azriel, or they have some sort of past.

Don’t let it bother you.

But it does. Just a little. Tiny bit. I shut my mouth, as the table fills in, every seat being filled.

Introductions go around, and I memorize each face and name. It goes: Elain, three females named Gwyneth, Emerie, and Nesta, and then Cassian. On the far end of my side of the table sits Amren, who gives me a slightly frightening grin.

I note that Gwyneth, or as everyone calls her, Gwyn, is charming and witty, paired with a wall-shaking enthusiasm. I quickly learn that she works in the library, so this must be an important form of socialization.

Emerie is nice, as far as I can tell, definitely headstrong and bold. She has an obviously strong form, but I don’t miss the way that her wings seem to sag a little behind her.

I’m halfway through my assessment of Nesta (sharp-tongued, sarcastic, and moderately unapproachable) when a macaron lands on the edge of my plate. I glance over to find Azriel watching me. 

“Oh, thank you,” I murmur, starting to pile food onto my plate. “Sorry, I was a little distracted.”

Azriel leans over, speaking into my ear, his breath tickling my skin and rustling my hair. “You weren’t distracted. You were analyzing.”

“Perhaps,” I shrug, a little smirk curling on my lips.

“I do it too. It’s just easier when you have shadows that are whispering all that you need or want to know,” he murmurs back, then leans away and starts piling food onto his own plate.

Five minutes pass easily of good food and easy conversation… and not one, but two females making eyes at Azriel. 

Elain is the most obvious about it — blushing and batting her eyelashes and aiming to brush her hand against Azriel’s by reaching for a dish at the same time as him. Thank the Mother, Azriel is mainly unaffected. In fact, his end of the bond shows affection for her, but no romantic feelings whatsoever… at least not right now.

Gwyn is the other, but she’s sneaky. More just making jokes and smiling at him than anything else, though I caught her staring at him a couple times.

Am I a little tiny bit uncomfortable? Yes.

But mostly shocked at how bold these females are. After all, his mate is sitting right next to him, right at their table.

I recite to myself: Don’t let it bother you. You and Azriel are hardly anything anyway.

Hardly anything.

“So,” Amren starts, leaning forward to bore her angular silver eyes into me. “Is someone else going to say it, or am I?”

Elain looks over at the female through her lashes, blinking in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Nesta rolls her eyes, immediately jumping on Amren’s train of thought. But then she points at me, and my heart falters. “This. Her,” Nesta says, smirking. “Why, exactly, is Eris’s mate in Velaris, with Azriel?”

Rhys raises a brow. “You two are so strange. Mor and I have known her for centuries — she’s always welcome to visit.”

Cassian gives Azriel an amused look, like he’s thoroughly enjoying the situation. He raises his wine glass in a ‘good luck’ fashion. But I’m just confused.

All of the people at the table are looking at us, with a range of expressions. Some are questioning, or confused, others looking to us for confirmation on Rhys’s claim.

And then it hits me.

Oh, shit.

They don’t know.

No one here except for Azriel, Cassian, and me knows.

They don’t know that I am Azriel’s mate.

Oh, shit.

Tags: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @5moremin @azriels-mate123 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @nightless @the-sweet-psycho @mali22 @bubybubsters @hannzoaks @menagerofmischief @theviewfromtheotherside

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#azriel didnt tell them? lol sucks for you #cassian is very amused #“why is eris's mate here?? hmmm?” is nesta being silly or is cassian a snitch hmm i wonder #comment to be added to taglist #acotar #writing #a court of thorns and roses #fanfiction #eris acotar #eris vanserra #fanfic #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #eris x reader x azriel #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #acotar fanfiction #fem reader #x reader #acotar x reader #unexpected #azriels mate #eris's mate #cassiefromhell

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

Sheep Days with Joel (post outbreak)

Word count: 5.9k (im so sorry i genuinely can't believe I wrote this much about an old man taking care of livestock) Rating: swearing, descriptions of an animal birth (I tried to make it not too gross or explicit), traumatic animal birth, discussions of labour and stillbirths Summary: At Tommy and Ellie's insistence of him finding a routine, Joel is appointed as the sheep caretaker in Jackson. After all, sheep are quiet, and do what they're told. How hard could it be? A/N: this is purely self indulgent, peepaw playing with animals. No romantic interest or pairing, just wholesome father daughter interactions, along with some other characters. Something about the holidays made me think about that conversation that Joel and Ellie had over the fire, and his dream of owning a sheep ranch, and before I knew it 5k was written. If you have read all of this, please know that I love you so incredibly much and you make it worth it to keep writing these silly little stories that bring me so much joy. main masterlist

Life in Jackson had a way of moving at the speed of molasses, while also propelling itself further into the future at the speed of light.

Some days were syrupy and slow, thick with palpable moments of survival, tension and freedom. Memories of what life was like before the outbreak. Other days however felt like the course of an electric current, with glitches and shocks jumping from one event to another, one threat to another in the span of a few hours in a day. Attacks from raiders during ambushes in the early morning, a group of coordinated clickers just outside patrol borders when dusk set in.

Even just the day to day events in Jackson could make one feel that life seemed to pass by at a static, yet dynamic pace, regardless of what routine you had fallen into in the modest settlement.

Joel was still getting used to it. The staticity, as well as the dynamism. Life before Jackson was nomadic. Rootless. Constantly on the run.

Endure and survive. That’s all that really mattered at the end of the day. The words bore a penultimate weight akin to the wartime motivational phrase, ‘keep calm and carry on.’ 

Well, that’s all Joel knew how to do.

Carry on.

Not so much the keep calm part, but he was no stranger to putting his head down and pressing forward when things got tough. Carrying on also meant being strong for others. Something which Joel is constantly reminded that he need no longer do now that he and Ellie are in Jackson. Now that they are safe.

And there is no shortage of people who tell him the same, including Tommy and Maria, and even Ellie.

“You gotta find something to do, man,” Tommy sighed and crossed his arms, leaning into the doorframe of the kitchen. “Something to help you get into a routine y’know.”

Joel glared at his younger brother. “The hell d’you mean I gotta find something, Tommy? I already have a routine.” He scowled and shifted his jaw.

This is the 3rd or 4th time the subject has been brought up and Joel’s just about had it. He doesn’t get it. He does things. He does stuff around the commune. He goes on patrol shifts, helps with the woodworking and labour jobs. He goes to some of the community events, like game nights held at the dining hall or movie nights- even though it takes a good 30 minutes of Ellie’s begging for his resolve to crumble, and he grumbles throughout the entire movie. 

As if Tommy can read his mind, he responds. “Going on patrol doesn’t count as routine, Joel.”

Puffing out his chest and mirroring Tommy’s body language, Joel glares at his younger brother.

“And here we go again,” Ellie quips from her seat at the kitchen table.

There’s a smirk plastered across her face despite her gaze, focused intently on the weathered pages of an old astronomy book.

“You stay outta this.” 

Joel’s clipped tone brokers no room for negotiation, Ellie’s known him long enough to recognize that. But that doesn’t stop her from pushing him, just because she can.

“You stay outta this. Rah rah rah. I’m Joel and I hate everything.” She mocks his deep southern drawl with exaggeration, continuing to look down at her book. 

“Tommy’s right, Joel. Say whatever you want but you can’t just fill your days with the odd jobs around here. And going on patrol. And hanging with me.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Joel exhales, his nostrils flaring. “Ellie-”

“Look, dude,” she cuts him off, “I love you, but it wouldn’t kill you to find something else to do with your time. It’s not the end of the world. I mean, it is but c’mon. It’s like you’d rather get killed by a fucking clicker than step outside your comfort zone.”

At that, Tommy snorts and shakes his head. 

“It’d be a hell of a lot less painful than this conversation, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” Joel huffs and puts his hands on his hips. 

“There’s lots of other jobs in the commune that you could help out with. Jobs that you don’t even need skilled labour experience for.”

“Like what, Tommy? Teachers at the school? Volunteers for movie night?” His scowl deepens, as does the crease between Joel’s brows. 

“Like training newcomers on patrol shifts, working at the clothing shop, working with the livestock-”

“Livestock? What kinda livestock?” Perking up in her seat, Ellie pushes the book away and turns to face Tommy. 

“Just for the horses, chicken, sheep and pigs. Well, it’s really for the sheep ‘cause we came into a decent sized herd in the last couple months, and they’re a bit tricky to look after.” 

Tommy runs his hands through his raven curls and chuckles. “No one’s been able to quite figure them out yet, and they don’t trust Jake- the caretaker for the horses and pigs.”

“Sheep?” Ellie’s mouth gapes open, her bright mischievous eyes finding Joel’s.

“Joel. Sheep.”

Already knowing where the conversation was headed, Joel tips his head back and looks up at the ceiling. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” 

__________________________________________________

And that is precisely how Joel finds himself knocked on his ass, after getting headbutted by one of the older lambs, in an attempt to get their halter on and bring them into the barn.

“You little shit, get back here!” he barks at the young sheep as it trots away from him towards the food trough. 

Rubbing the right side of his jaw and grimacing, he sits back on his hands, looking at the rest of the herd a few feet away from him. “I’ve a right mind to tell them to serve lamb for the rest of the month at the dining hall. How’s that sound?”

A few sheep at the hay bale turn to look his way, chewing absentmindedly before ignoring him again.  It had been about ten days since Tommy enlisted Joel as the sheep caretaker, or as Ellie had so lovingly called him, Jackson’s resident shepherd, and Joel had to admit, the job wasn’t half of what he expected. 

It turns out sheep weren’t quiet, and they certainly didn’t do what they were told. Sheep were actually a pain in the ass to keep. A royal pain in the ass. Much different than cows and horses, despite being herd animals. 

Not to mention that they were creative, escape artists, always jumping over the fence of the pen or squeezing in between the slats of the fence. It was a regular occurrence to hear the phrase ‘loose sheep’ or ‘the sheep are out again’ being hollered across the main street, as a handful of them skittered across the main road, Joel out of breath as he jogged after them, the stitch in his side burning through his abdomen, while he knees ached incessantly.

His first week was spent just getting close enough to them so that he could tag their ears for the breeding records. Not that he could manage to even get a hand on any, especially the young lambs.  As soon as he got within 8 feet of the herd they would scurry away, kicking and bucking into the air, or run right past him, as he keeled over trying to catch them. Needless to say, Joel didn’t manage to avoid getting headbutted and kicked a handful of times during those days. 

Cursing, he dusted off his pants and leaned against the fence of the pen. 

“How’s it coming?” Tommy’s voice called out to him from the opposite end of the pen.

Narrowing his eyes in response, Joel hunched over to rest his hands on his knees.

“Easy my fuckin’ ass you liar. These little shits are demons.”

Stifling a chuckle, Tommy rests his arms over the fence and looks down. “Like I said, it takes some time to get to know ‘em. 

It was wrong to laugh at his brother’s misfortunes but he couldn’t help it as he watched Joel’s hulking figure tentatively approach the herd again before pausing as they all scattered around him.  

“S’that why you haven’t been able to recruit any other unfortunate souls for this torture?” Placing his hands on his hips, he shifts his weight from one leg, appraising the herd. 

“No,” Tommy huffs out an exhale, “most folks don’t have the time to commit or they don’t have an affinity for animals.”

He looks out at the horizon, scanning the snow covered peaks of the mountain range bordering the settlement, before his gaze returns to Joel. He smirks as that familiar scowl settles onto Joel’s face. 

“I do not have an affinity for animals.”

Snorting, Tommy looks down at his feet again, nudging the toe of his boot into the hardened ground. “Is that so? That why no one else has been able to ride Callus out on patrol?”

Joel grunts. “That’s different. I wasn’t taking care of him, I was only riding him cause everyone else had their designated mounts.”

Lying through his teeth was easier than admitting that Joel actually loved having a special bond with the chestnut gelding that seemed to hate everyone else. 

It took time.

Lots of hushed murmurs and praise for the gelding to learn to trust again. Not to mention that Joel seemed to have endless patience for the imposing gelding, never getting frustrated with him or upset when their progress seemed to regress. Plus, he had that quiet commanding authority that seemed to ease Callus’ nerves whenever he became frantic and anxious.

Before he knew it, Callus was following him around the paddock, poking his head out of his stall and nickering whenever Joel stepped foot in the barn. 

“Whatever you say, Joel. Whatever you say.” The younger Miller shook his head and stepped back from the fence. “I’ll let you get back to it, since you got your hands full,” Tommy squinted and peered around Joel’s figure, “or, rather, your pockets full, I should say.”

Before he can even glance behind him, Joel feels a harsh tug on his back pocket, stumbling backwards as one of the young lambs tears a shred of the bandana in his pocket.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Gimme that back you piece of-” he bellows as the lamb prances away with the scrap of faded red cloth in its mouth, echoes of Tommy’s laugh fading into the background as he walks away.

_____________________________________________

A couple months later …

It had been roughly over a month since Joel started taking care of the sheep. Their upkeep became somewhat easier as Joel figured out their quirks and tricks to working with them, but the real difference was that Joel did indeed fall into a routine with them. 

Everyday he got up before Ellie had to be up for school, and headed over to the barn to give them their morning feed. Then, he’d come home, eat breakfast, and walk Ellie to school, shortly before returning to clean their pen and stack hay bales in the barn loft. Sometimes he would even shear some of them when their coats became too thick. At the end of the day, he’d pick Ellie up from school and they’d have dinner together in the evening, then he would pop out again to feed them dinner and do a final night check before lights out. 

They were surprisingly curious creatures, and smart. While he would mill about his different chores, they would follow him as he walked around the outskirts of the pen. When he was cleaning up the pen, they would nudge the wheelbarrow, knocking it over in the process.

Eventually, they stopped running from him and would eagerly approach as he walked through the barn into the outside pen, carrying a heavy hay bale for their breakfast or dinner.

When he’d get lost in his aimless thoughts, or stuck on paralyzing flashbacks, a panic attack brewing under the surface, he’d feel a tug on his sleeve or the back of his jacket.

Pairs of deep brown eyes surrounded by a halo of soft cloud like wool would simply stare back at him. Calmly grounding him back to reality. Not that he encountered those very often. What was even more surprising to Joel was that he had panic attacks way less often these days, his brain seeming to allow him some rest and solace from its usual fight or flight status. Even Ellie and Tommy noticed too, with Ellie pointing out that he was ‘less of a grumpy motherfucker than usual.’

He never named them, though. He wouldn’t allow himself that liberty.

They were just animals. Creatures.

Creatures, who in the beginning were ‘little shits with crack for brains and body padding like the Michelin man,’ according to Joel. Soon, however, ‘little shits’ turned into ‘little devils,’ which eventually turned into ‘little buggers,’ with an affectionate lilt behind the nickname. 

It was Thursday today and the vet was coming by to look after the horses and give them their seasonal shots, along with the sheep, too. With temperatures dropping, the animals had to be prepared for the harsh onslaught of cold weather that was native to Jackson winters. Although the commune was prosperous and there was no shortage of food and supply, or need to ration, the animals were always of high concern. 

“How much are you feeding them nowadays?” Dr. Joyce, the local vet, asked as she placed her stethoscope to the belly of one of the mature ewe’s.

“‘Bout 25 pounds of hay a day, and 15-20 pounds of grain on top of that.”

She hummed contemplatively as she shifted the stethoscope knob throughout the mass of wool covering the sheeps’ belly. “That’s quite a bit considering the size of the herd you have here.”

She nods to the rest of the herd munching away at their breakfast in the pen.

Joel shrugs in response. “That’s what Jake was feeding them beforehand but he suggested I up it as we come into winter, to help ‘em keep weight on.”

“Well, he’s certainly not wrong.” She reaches into her kit to pull out a packaged syringe, ripping open the wrapping and flicking the end of the needle two times. Small droplets of liquid ricochet out as she pinches the skin of the ewe’s neck, not covered in wool, and gently inserts the syringe. 

“Is there anything else I should be doing? Or anything else I could do to help them more when winter hits?”

While Joel would admit that he still really has no idea what he’s doing taking care of these animals, it doesn’t mean that he won’t give his all in providing care to them. He’s come to realize he actually likes learning about the sheep, aspects of their care, behaviour and physiology. It scratches parts of his brain that were only really activated when he was contracting, woodworking, or other technical jobs. And he doesn’t half ass jobs, no matter the nature of them.

Dr. Joyce swiftly removes the needle within seconds, and smiles warmly at him. 

“Nothing in particular, Joel. You’ve done a great job taking care of these guys so far, I know they’re not easy to look after.”

At that he chuckles and shoves his hands in his pockets as he leans against the stall door. “You could say that. There’s been a deep learning curve with ‘em that’s for sure.”

She nods and opens the back stall door that leads out to the pen, the ewe trots out to return to the herd. “Well, like I said, you’ve done a good job so far. Aside from keeping up with shearing them, although you won’t have to worry about that too much come winter, they’re pretty low maintenance. Keep them on lots of hay throughout the winter, and give them more grain to supplement for the colder weather. And some of them may need more than others, especially the pregnant ones.”

He nods along, running through the mental checklist of things he’s already been doing to increase their food supply, when he looks up at the vet.

“Pregnant?”  His brows furrow and he frowns. 

“Oh boy. I guess Jake left that part out when you took over?” The vet chuckles again as she takes in the dazed look on his face and scans the herd briefly.

“You do have a couple pregnant ewe’s here, probably at least 3 or 4. But that one,” she points to a particularly large sheep under the shelter that’s lying down, unkempt wool and hay covering half her face. “That one, 1633, she’s the furthest along. Probably another week or two before she pops.”

“A week?” Joel repeats it, disbelief still laced in his tone. “Shit, I thought she was just really fat. And lazy.” He narrows his gaze at the ewe, tilting his head slightly as he takes in the obvious rising and falling of her midsection, her legs barely tucked underneath her. 

“Don’t worry, Joel, I know easier said than done,” she reassures him after clocking the worry etched into his features. “But sheep births are often fairly quick and easy, not as intense as horse or cow births due to their smaller size. I’ll be on call over the next week in case anything happens but just put more bedding in the stall here during the evenings for her, and keep her feed the same. She will handle the rest.”

Inhaling sharply, Joel nods, processing it all. She tells him what signs to look out for that indicate early labour, and gives him a brief list of things he can do to prepare, as well as supplies that could be helpful during the birth and afterwards. At least the doc will be there to help out so that he’s not completely on his own, despite being very out of his league. 

“Sounds good, doc, I’ll call ya if I notice any changes in her or when she does drop.”

“Please, do. And I’ll see if Jake can come in for an hour or two during your off hours in the event she does go into labour then.”

__________________________________________

Three days after Dr. Joyce’s visit, 1633 goes into labour. Nearly 10pm, just as the settlement tucks in for bed and night shift patrols begin. Dr. Joyce was busy with another animal emergency, of course. Just his luck. 

So, he recruits the next best thing, and gently wakes Ellie up after rushing back to the house after a night check. He hands Ellie the list of supplies that Dr. Joyce gave him and she blitzes throughout the house, gathering the different things in a box.

Of course, the curiosity, fear and excitement over an animal being born was not lost on his teenage daughter. She fired off a barrage of endless questions as she was right on his heels, following him throughout the house.

“Has her water broken? Is she in pain? What direction is the baby gonna be facing when it comes out? Did you call Dr. Joyce?” 

“You bleat more than the damn sheep these days, y’know that? C’mon just get that stuff together for me.”

Joel huffs as he grabs a bucket from under the kitchen sink, thinking of what else he could grab. It had to be the night when Tommy and Maria were both out on patrol as well, leaving just him and Ellie. 

God help him.

When they returned to the barn, the ewe was in the stall, lying on her side, bleating out her obvious discomfort. He quickly takes his thick jacket off, hanging it on a nearby post before stepping into the stall. 

“Alright, honey, alright, it’s okay.” The low murmurs of his voice only seem to agitate the ewe more, as she bleats repeatedly while he approaches and crouches down beside her. His eyes never leave the ewe’s body.

“Ellie, hand me a couple big towels.” She reaches into the box of supplies and hands him two fluffy towels, crouching down beside Joel slowly. The ewe continues to let out loud long bleating groans, huffing as her body starts preparing for labour and her water breaks with an audible slosh.

“Shit. Well, there goes her water.” He huffs, his mouth pressed into a straight line as he tries to peek and see any signs of a muzzle or cloven hooves coming out. 

Gagging and turning away slightly, Ellie groans.

“Ugh, okay that’s fucking gross!” 

He gives her a disapproving frown. “You’ve seen worse before, calm down.”

“A clicker brain and exploding guts is not nearly as gross as this. How are you not freaking out? 

Suddenly, the ewe lets out a long bleating groan again and thrashes her hind legs, in an attempt to get up frantically. 

“Shit. Whoa, whoa, whoa, mama. Easy there. Y’can’t get up just yet.” He hovers over the sheep and tries to coax her back on the ground.

“Ellie, come around here, help me keep her on her side.”

She shuffles around to Joel’s other side and buries her hand into the soft thick wool, gently pressing down. “Have you ever done this before?”

Joel grunts while he tries to contain its flailing legs, preventing the ewe from rolling over or getting up.

“Nope,” he strains. “I’ve seen one or two cow births, long time ago when I was growing up in Texas.”

“Shouldn’t be too different,” he says breathlessly, saying a silent prayer as he pulls the sheep away from kicking at the stone wall of the barn. “As long as she stays on the ground like this, she should be okay, she can’t get up or roll over though ‘cause it could hurt or suffocate the baby.”

“Okay, okay,” Ellie exhales shakily, wincing as the sheep bleats loudly.

“Hey,” he turns to gaze down at the teenager, his voice quiet but authoritative. “It’s gonna be okay, look at me.” Her dazed gaze snaps from the ewe up to meet Joel’s big brown eyes. Anxious. Focused. “It’s gonna be okay alright? She’s gonna be okay?”

Ellie nods her head, the hint of a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she looks down at the ewe again. “It’s okay, momma, you’re okay, just breathe.”

No later than 5 minutes after do a pair of hooves and a muzzle appear. Ten minutes of pushing after that, the tiny lamb is lying sprawled out on the ground, Joel rubbing the remnants of placenta off its body and face.

“Joel.” 

It’s barely above a whisper as Ellie hovers over the baby, crouched on the balls of her toes. 

“Joel. It’s - it’s not breathing.” 

She inhales sharply and leans her head over the mouth, trying to feel or hear for a puff of air. 

He’s silent for a moment, and leans back looking at the tiny body covered in bodily fluids, and realizes there’s no movement coming from the lifeless body. No rising of its stomach, and its eyes are barely opened.

All of a sudden the vastness of the chilly barn shrinks to the size of a shoebox. The air suffocating, as if all the oxygen was sucked out of it.

“Fuck. Fuck. Get me another towel.” 

Rushing over to the box of supplies, Ellie hands him a smaller towel, as Joel leans down and wipes at the lamb's eyes, and around its nostrils. He tries to open its mouth to see if there’s any fluid trapped there but he can’t see.

“Get the baster. Hurry.” His clipped tone betrays his panic as Ellie places their turkey baster in his hand. 

It’s a poor substitution for an actual proper bulb syringe that is used to remove mucus and fluid from newborns’ mouths. He opens the lamb's mouth and inserts the baster roughly, pressing down on the bulb, as murky liquid is drawn through the clear pipette. He squirts the remnants of the baster out onto the ground and reinserts it into the lambs mouth, drawing more mucus and crap out a few more times until it’s empty.

They both wait a beat, panting heavily to see any sign of life on the little sheep. 

“She’s still not breathing. Fuck.” Ellie’s voice trembles. “She’s not breathing, Joel!”

“Okay, go into the feedroom and fill up the hot water bottle with warm water okay? Warm water, not hot, I’ll try to swaddle it in more towels, get some heat going.”

Immediately, she races to the feedroom with the rubber water bottle. As Joel hears the water running in the background, he wraps the lamb in two big towels. The ewe is now up and pacing frantically around Joel, sensing something is wrong. 

“C’mon baby, c’mon,” he rubs the covered lamb firmly, pressing his palm down slightly against the ribs and chest of the baby and shaking slightly. Nothing though, no sounds, no movement.

The ewe is now crying and bleating repeatedly as she paces circles around Joel, wanting to get to her baby. “I know, momma, I know. I’m trying. Fucking hell.”

The edges of his restraint and control start to fray. His heart is racing, chest tightening under the crushing realization that the lamb is a stillborn.  He cradles the lamb, swaddled in a mountain of towels now, squeezing his eyes shut and holding the tiny limp weight against his body. 

Moments later Ellie reappears at his side, sinking to her knees with the water bottle in both hands, the sloshing sound of the water drowning out the ewe’s crying.

Joel opens the folds of towels up so that she can place the flimsy warm pouch over top of the lambs side. Wrapping it up like a burrito again, he holds it up against his chest as if he was holding a baby, firmly patting and rubbing the little lump in his arms. Ellie fruitlessly tries to calm down the mother ewe but it’s no use as she continues to trot circles around Joel, weaving back and forth and trying to nose the little lump in his arms. 

He places the swaddled lamb on the ground, into the cushioned nest of shavings and straw bedding. Hovering over it on all fours, he places his palm over the swaddle again, applying pressure to the lambs back and rubbing circles, while opening its mouth with his other hand. 

“C’mon, little one, c’mon. Gimme something, c’mon. Please.” Joel leans down, his lips pressing against the towel as he murmurs.  The sound of his warm, deep voice breaking is barely muffled by the damp fabric as he squeezes his eyes shut. Another set of warm, small, clammy hands overlap his, as Ellie kneels beside him.

They huddle together over the lamb for another minute or two, the soft swishing of straw and shavings strewn about as the ewe continues pacing is the only audibly sound. Her cries for help softened to brief bleating.

Ellie intertwines her fingers with Joel, squeezing tight as she let’s out a quiet sniffle.

Then, a muffled sound. The smallest hiccup. 

“Joel.” She whispers and squeezes his hand again.

“Joel, look.”

He raises his head slowly, holding his breath as he hears the small noise again, before he carefully unwraps the swaddled material.  He cautiously rubs the lambs back again, as they watch as its bleary eyes blink open, slowly but surely.  It raises its head ever so slightly, dazed, before letting out the smallest bleat.

Choking out the breath that he had been holding in, Joel rushes to wipe around the lamb’s eyes and mouth again.  “There she is. Hey little one,” he coos at the small animal, afraid to speak above a hushed tone.

“Holy shit.” Ellie huffs in disbelief with tears in her eyes. “Dude, you fucking did it! Oh my god, look at her!”

She clutches the sleeve of Joel’s shirt, exhilarated and bouncing with adrenaline. “Do you think it’s a girl?”

Smiling to himself, he shakes his head, “not sure, but it doesn’t matter, s’long as it’s healthy. Right, little one?”  He slowly strokes the lamb as it starts bleating with more fervor, when he feels a bigger muzzle shoving his hand out of the way .

“There ya go momma, there she is.” 

He gets up, ignoring the groaning protest from his knees and steps back so that the ewe can see her baby, gesturing for Ellie to follow. 

“Here, Let’s give ‘em some space to breathe. Go grab the space heater and we’ll get ‘em nice and warm.”

Shooting to her feet, she scurries back to the supply room to retrieve the heater. Joel sits back against one of the stall walls, his head tipping back till it hits the wooden slats with a dull thunk as he takes the deepest breath he’s taken all day. The adrenaline is still coursing through his veins but he feels fucking exhausted all the same. Defeated but elated, he watches the mom lick and nudge the little lamb, before a voice rings out from behind him.

“Well, well, well, looks like we got a full house in here tonight!”

Joel turns to see Dr. Joyce striding through the aisle, a bright twinkle in her eye as she stops in front of the large stall, already stretching a pair of latex gloves over her hands. 

The corners of his mouth pull up into a small smile as he nods in her direction. “Hey doc, how’s it going?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” she chuckles with warmth, shimmying around the stall door slowly. “You’ve had quite the night from what I can tell. I saw the lights on at this hour and I could only assume it had finally happened.”

Snorting, he crosses his arms over his chest. “That’s one way of putting it.” He nods his chin as Ellie returns with the space heater in hand, “couldn’t have done it without this one’s help of course.” 

Ellie grins and hands the space heater to Joel. “If I’m being honest, it was probably one of the coolest and scariest things I’ve ever seen in my life. Especially when she wasn’t breathing. But it was all Joel, really. He brought her back, I just tried not to get in his way.” 

Rounding Joel’s other side, Dr. Joyce crosses the stall and crouches down and pulls out her stethoscope, winking at Ellie. “Is that so? Do I sense a future vet tech assistant that can help me with house calls?”

“Shit. Are you serious?” The teenager’s eyes nearly bug out of her head as a massive smile stretches across her face. “That would be fucking awesome!”

Joel doesn’t even have the energy to reprimand her for swearing, his mind and body drained as he snorts and shakes his head.

“Hey! Is there room for two more at this welcoming party?!” Another booming voice echoes throughout the large stone barn, similar in its Southern drawl to Joel’s but not as deep. 

Tommy and Maria round the corner with huge smiles, still in their riding clothes, fresh off the night patrol. 

“Just so long as y’all can keep quiet.” Joel grumbles, still sat leaning against the stall wall with his arms crossed, legs kicked out from underneath him. He looks over at the scene in front of him, warmth etched into his features as he watches Dr. Joyce check the lambs vitals while the ewe finally starts to munch on hay again.

“We couldn’t believe it, we had to come right away. Hell, I had half a mind to cut the patrol short when we found out.” Maria nods at Joel with a smirk. She glances over to the little sheep who has started to stand on all fours and nurse from its mom, wobbling on its nimble legs. 

“What’s the verdict Dr. Joyce?” Tommy sidles over to Joel, crouching down beside him and grinning. “All working organs? All ten fingers and ten toes?”

Joel sighs gruffly. “They’re hooves, not toes, genius. Jeez, you sure you’re expecting soon?”

Maria only smirks in response as Tommy mumbles and shoves his older brother in response. 

“Everything’s in order Joel, don’t worry.” Dr. Joyce smiles, taking one ear bud out of her ear as she continues to check the lambs pulse. “Her oxygen levels seem good, despite the rocky start and her lungs are clear of fluids, and she’s warm. You couldn’t have done a better job, really, you should be proud of yourself.”

He tries to hide his beaming smile he really does, but Joel grins. His bright eyes crinkle and his dimple pokes through his right cheek. “Thanks doc. I appreciate ya comin’ over here as soon as you could.”

“Her?” Ellie’s eyes widen as she clasps her hands together. “So it is a girl?!”

“Yup, definitely a girl.”

“Think she deserves a name, don’t you?” Tommy nudges Joel in the arm again.

Joel’s smile falters immediately. He shakes his head and looks down. “No. I don’t name ‘em, besides it’ll only be a couple of days before she’s gotta get tagged and registered in the breeding books too.”

“Oh come on Joel, please? She deserves one. After everything she’s been through…” Ellie’s voice trails off. 

Everything they had been through. She doesn’t need to say it for him to know. 

When she doesn’t keep going he looks up at her. Her eyes pleading, welling up with fragments of the pain and haunted memories that they endured over the last year.

He looks at Tommy and Maria, his eyes then falling on Dr. Joyce as she tends to the lamb. 

“Ellie’s right Joel. I know y’all don’t normally give them names, especially the young ones, but given the circumstances, this little lady oughta have a name.” The vets eyes are soft as she gives Joel a sympathetic smile. 

He’s silent for a moment, shifting his jaw. His gaze drops to the tiny lamb, white as snow, now that she’s been towel dried and cleaned, listening to her tiny bleats as she headbuts her mom for more milk. Instantly, his gaze softens, his big eyes rounding at the newborn.

New life. 

A breath of fresh air into the looming hollowness of the barn. A pulse. An electric current, melding into a comfortable, viscous, energy as Jackson’s population, well four-legged population, increases for another day. 

Sighing, he tilts his head in adoration. Filtering through the vestiges of his memory, he thinks back to the conversation that prompted this whole sheep herding fiasco. Him, Ellie, their tiny fire amongst the vast expanse of snow covered country, with nothing but the moon overhead. The comforting solace provided by its glowing illumination, letting them know they weren’t alone in their travels. 

“Well, she is a bright light, figuratively and literally,” he peeks his head out of the stall to find the moon, beaming down on the tiny settlement, before glancing down at the lamb again. 

“How does Luna sound?”

In that moment, the lamb trots over to Joel on its spindly legs, getting braver by the minutes after its birth. She bleats in his face loudly and headbutts his arm affectionately before circling back to her mom, stumbling over herself in the process.

“Well I’ll be damned, I think she likes it.” Tommy chuckles as Maria comes to stand beside him. 

Ellie snuggles up to Joel, her eyes starting to close as the evening's events catch up to her.  “It’s perfect,” she yawns and nuzzles into his broad shoulder, “our little Luna.”

Luna approaches Joel with more curiosity again, as he stretches his hand out towards her, letting her sniff and lick him. 

Despite everything that happened, the chaos, the panic, and near crisis with his first lamb birth, for the first time in a while, Joel feels whole. Fulfilled. Right where he's supposed to be, in this new world, this new life.

Rooted.

A lopsided smile stretches across his face, as his dimple pokes through his cheek. “Yeah, I suppose it is. Our little light, Luna.”

#joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

Aşk-ı Memnu | JJK

Pairing: non idol! Jungkook x fem! married! Reader

Summary: What is prohibited, it's desired the most. Or in which you tangle yourself in a forbidden love with Jeon Jungkook while being married to an older man. Yet it is also said that forbidden fruits taste the best.

Warnings: fluff, angst, forbidden love, food ingestion, cheating, age gap, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption (during dinner), lying, mentions of death, reader is described to be shorter than Jungkook, (let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 1.8k

~Prompt 3: Saying “I love you” for the first time

~Snowflakes divider by @samspenandsword

~Prompt list by @flightlessangelwings

A/N: This short story was highly inspired by the Turkish novel of the same name "Aşk-ı Memnu" which translates as "Forbidden Love" in English. Let me know what you thought of this controversial story in the comments!

You can listen to the series' music on Spotify to get into ambience as it helped me a lot to write this. Just search it with the same Turkish name. Happy reading everyone!

Love knows no boundaries. Love is untamable, like the sea. Like a flame. It exists, it consumes. It destroys.

It was cold outside, the night was heavy over the city. Snow was falling from the sky yet the house was warm. The clicking of the cutlery against the expensive china plates could be heard along with the flickering flames of the fireplace.

You sat next to your husband, the man clearly enjoying his dinner and you couldn't help but smile softly at his praises for the new cook.

"So, tell me Seokjin. How is your father?"

Asked your husband, a rich business man by the name of Lee Yong-su. Seokjin smiled against his glass of wine, he put it down and looked at your husband, the two men happily engaging in conversation.

"He's quite well, actually. His treatment is going smoothly and we expect a complete recovery by the end of February."

"Give him my regards when you see him, Seokjin."

The young businessman turned to look at you, bowing his head softly at you not minding at all the fact that you were younger than him.

"Of course, Mrs. Lee."

You smiled kindly at him before the conversation between Seokjin and your husband took place once more. You continued to enjoy your dinner, allowing your thoughts to wander for a bit.

The marriage with your husband had been really controversial given the age difference between you both and the fact that he already had two children with his other wife that you knew had passed away.

Nisun was the oldest. A seventeen year old girl who resented you for taking the place of her mother. Munwoo was the youngest, he was twelve and the innocent boy never ceased to claim that if you ever divorced his father, he'd marry you instead for he had always wanted to marry a beautiful woman when he was of age.

You found it cute whenever he mentioned something like that, only smiling at Munwoo before he got distracted with his videogames once more.

But those weren't the only people that lived in the mansion when you married your husband. There was someone else. A person you had met before you became Yong-su's wife.

Jeon Jungkook.

You knew that he was the only son of one of your husband's closest friends that had sadly died in a car accident when Jungkook was barely five years old. Yong-su had taken him under his wing, providing for him and taking care of him as if he were his own son.

Jungkook was also twenty-six, just like you. And that was the first motive so as to why you two clicked so easily. Yet that fact was the beginning of a web of lies and passion that you had never thought you’d be a part of. 

He was also very handsome, a sleeve of tattoos adorned his right arm, his lip and eyebrow were pierced and his hair was rebellious like his soul. Jungkook was a really attractive man and, according to his own phrasing, you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. 

Lust ruled your relationship with the son of your husband’s best friend. Desires of the body, flames of the heart. Feelings were never involved, or at least that was what was planned in the very beginning. 

But to be honest, nothing was ever planned. This mess you were now tangled in started with a glance, continued with a kiss and ended with you in his bed. Sentiment was never supposed to happen. Everything was dominated by a mutual carnal infatuation. 

You weren’t in love with your husband. The marriage had only been a great opportunity for you and your soft revenge on your cruel mother but Yong-su was deeply in love with you. To him, it didn’t matter the nearly twenty years age gap between you both. It didn’t matter that he had been married before. It didn’t matter he already had two children. He loved you, he cherished you, he wanted you almost in a fierceful way. 

“Darling, are you alright? You aren’t usually this quiet during dinner.”

Looking at your right, you met the concerned gaze of your husband, you smiled slightly though not fully. 

“I’m alright, I just have a headache.”

Yong-su frowned, you felt the eyes of everyone on you, even Jungkook’s gaze. It burned you to even know he was looking at you. 

“Don’t worry about me, dearest.”

Silence filled the room after those words left your lips before soft conversations began to arise once more on the table. The children started talking about a new movie that was going to come out next week while your husband and Seokjin talked about business. Jungkook was still looking at you and you were able to read the concern in his dark eyes. 

You smiled at him, ever so delicately and he nodded subtly. Taking in your silent reassurance as he resumed his dinner. 

Butterflies flew in your stomach at his concern. At what you had seen in his eyes. Those hidden emotions behind his gaze. A dark galaxy you loved getting yourself lost in. The place where you found comfort during lonely nights and a refuge when your soul tormented you. Yet the fact that your love was forbidden only made you want it more. It attracted you more. You desired it more. You needed it more. Needed him. As if you were metal and Jungkook was your magnet. Like a forbidden fruit. Prohibited yet delicious.

“Are you alright?”

You knew that voice. Its raspiness did things to you that shouldn’t happen as a married woman. His deep voice always captivated you. You turned around, facing Jungkook. He stood in the kitchen’s doorway, leaning against the frame as his gaze pierced your own with intensity that a shiver ran down your spine.

"Yes, I just took a pill for the headache. Don't worry, Jungkook."

He frowned softly at your last sentence, uncrossing his arms as he walked towards you with his large steps. Your breath hitched in your throat when he stood in front of you a little too close for it to be proper.

"I always worry about you, (y/n)."

You swallowed, not knowing what to say. Nothing came to your mind. There were no words in your mouth to express, no thoughts in your mind to keep you busy.

"You matter to me more than you could imagine."

You looked aside, trying to break free from this chain he held you in. You took a deep breath, eyes focusing on your nearly empty glass of water that rested on the counter.

"Stop it, someone could hear us."

He took another step towards you, eyes never leaving your form as he gazed down at you.

"Uncle Yong-su is in his study with Kim Seokjin,"

His fingers grabbed your chin ever so softly, turning your head so that your eyes met his before he continued in a soft murmur.

"and the children are already upstairs."

His hand cupped your face while his thumb caressed your cheek in delicate touches. His dark eyes took you in; your beauty, your personality. Your essence.

Your hand rested atop his own. Even when the feeling of his skin against your own burned you with desire and adoration, you weren't allowed to show your sentiment freely.

"I don't want to risk it, Jungkook."

He smirked at your whispered words. Daring to take another step until your chests were almost touching. His warm and minty breath fanned your face and you, once more, lost yourself in his enchanting eyes that held your whole world.

"Risk what, (y/n)? Us? Are you that scared of my love for you to be known to the world?"

Your eyes widened at his words. You took a step back in pure instinct, forcing his hand to leave your cheek as you shook your head in silent motions of hidden despair.

"Because I love you, (y/n). I have for a while. And it only keeps growing in my heart."

You took a deep breath, trying to process everything that was leaving his mouth, wrapping your head around the fact that Jungkook was in love with you. If anything, it complicated things even more yet that didn't mean you craved it any less.

"You can't. Jungkook, you can't love me."

His hands were on your shoulders the next second making a soundless gasp leave your lips. His eyes bore into yours like never before that you nearly felt his soul touch your own.

"But I do. And I do not regret it."

You stood in silence, never breaking eye contact with him. Why now? Why did he have to say such a thing now?

"If you do not love me, say it. Say it and nothing left my mouth. Say it and I'll try to stop."

But how could you say that you didn't love him when your heart beats for him and only him? How could you tell such a lie when you loved him more than your life?

"Jungkook, I-"

"Love, are you there?"

The voice of your husband was heard from around the corner. Your eyes widened in fear and Jungkook put a finger over his lips, signalling you to stay quiet as he went to hide behind a wall, opposite from the kitchen's entrance.

You turned around in time to face your husband crossing the doorway with a soft smile on his lips.

"Yes, I just took a pill for my headache."

Yong-su frowned and walked over to you, eyes searching on your own with concern.

"Are you alright? I need you to sign some documents but if you are not feeling right you can do it later."

Your eyes momentarily looked at where Jungkook was hiding before you shook your head with a smile.

"It's alright, I can do it now."

Yong-su nodded, walking out of the kitchen with you behind him. But just as you were about to leave the room, you turned to look back only to spot Jungkook peeking out from around the wall upon hearing your fading footsteps.

With your heart skipping a beat, you sent him a subtle nod. The trace of a smile over your lips before you disappeared behind the wall.

And it was in that moment that he smiled to himself, feeling his heart beating wildly in his chest upon the silent confirmation of your love for him.

It didn't matter if it was prohibited, that it was a sin. That you were betraying your husband with Jungkook. For you were his forbidden fruit he should not even gaze at but your essence was addictive he couldn't think to stop himself. Not now, not ever, because love knows no boundaries. Love is untamable, like the sea. Like a flame. It exists, it consumes. It destroys.

December/15/2023

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

#jungkook #bts #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #love #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #kim seokjin #bts jungkook #forbidden love #Aşk-ı Memnu #aşk ı memnu #reader insert #winter event 2023 #sweetcarrotsandroses97 #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #angst

[luvonstyles]

hii I’m not sure what your rules are for requests of if you have any (you could make it fluff or smut) but I would really love if you could write something with a birthday since my birthday is tomorrow!! of course make it with harry please :)

thank you <3

THE RIGHT START TO A BIRTHDAY.

a/n: happy birthday, babe!! <3 i hope you are having a great day.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, smut.

A quiet sound of contentment left Y/N’s lips as her eyelashes fluttered open, her vision a bit hazy for a moment until she could feel the gentle pucker of lips that were leaving trails of kisses along her face. Her confusion quickly transformed into delight when Harry’s face came into view, a grin forming on her lips. “G’mornin’, lovie.” Harry murmured, pressing a few more delicate kisses to her cheeks. Giggling, Y/N grinned up at him. “Thank you, baby.” Harry nodded, grinning sheepishly as he reached over and picked up a plate full of her favorite breakfast foods, presenting it to her. “Happy birthday, my heart.” He said in a sing-song tone. Y/N giggled softly, cupping his cheeks in the palms of her hands. “You always make my birthdays feel like the most important day of the year.” She admitted, smiling widely. “Oh, I got myself some breakfast too.” He informed her, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Let’s eat, then!” Y/N suggested excitedly.

Snickering, Harry shook his head. In a low and commanding tone, he said “Spread your legs and let me have my breakfast.” This caused Y/N’s cheeks to almost immediately flush, a meek nod the only response she gave as she parted her legs for him. “‘S so beautiful, hm? My pretty little cunt.” Harry cooed when he saw the damp spot on the center of her panties, his thumb teasingly swiping against the spot through her panties. Y/N mewled, already desperate for more of his touch. “Shh, lovie. You’re going to get exactly what you need.” Harry assured her.

Disregarding any former control that he had, Harry practically ripped her panties off, instantly inhaling the scent of her arousal. He could feel himself practically drooling, pressing teasing kisses up and down along her folds, before he teased her clit with a single swipe of his tongue. Y/N cried out, her hands reaching out and her fingers grasping onto his curls. “Yeah? My good girl wants my tongue, hm?” Harry snickered, shaking his head. “So greedy.” He said, but obliged by her wishes and immediately lowered his head back between her thighs.

Tossing her knees over his shoulders, he began to rhythmically flick his tongue against her clit, his movements fast but precise. To add to her pleasure, Harry spat onto her entrance, using his saliva as a lubricant as he slid a finger inside of her. He began to use his tongue and finger in rhythm, proving Y/N with the utmost pleasure.

“Please.” She begged, which caused a cheeky smirk to tug at the corners of Harry’s mouth. “Please what, darlin’?” He teased. “Please let me cum.” She begged. Appearing to contemplate the request, Harry put on his best thinking face before obliging by her request. A muttered “Cum for me, pet.” was all it took for Y/N’s thighs to shake, and for her release to to coat his mouth, fingers, and chin. She came back down from the high of her orgasm with the feeling of Harry’s arms wrapped around her torso, murmuring soft phrases of praise. “Happy birthday, baby. I can’t wait to love you for every birthday for the rest of your life.” Harry murmured.

Y/N couldn’t have had a better start to her birthday.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harrystyles fanfic #harry styles blurb

[with-love-from-hell]

Head-Empty Headcanons

Things they say, think, and do that prove they are a bit air-headed. 

Genre: Headcanons, Comedy

Characters featured: All Obey Me! Characters (yes, even the new ones!)

Whenever Mc is mentioned its unrelated to their gender!

CW: swearing!

A/N: The brain rot is real this morning, and I haven’t done anything super silly in awhile, so here!

Belphegor

The weirdest shit always comes out of his mouth when he’s half awake. 

Will ask the most ridiculous questions when he’s in between naps or when he’s just woken up because his brain is on autopilot, like along the lines of “Do you think pigeons have feelings?” 

Does not look when he crosses the street.

Will literally ask what you said after being annoyed that you asked if he was listening. 

Has drank water while laying down and choked himself. 

Beelzebub

3 balls bopping around his head at all times are Food, Workout, and MC like a game of Pong

Blinks one eye at a time. It’s subtle but he totally does it. 

Has eaten the fortune out of a fortune cookie because he thought that was part of the process of making the fortune come true. 

When told by MC he had to rinse rice before cooking it he asked if he needed to use soap. 

Has eaten whole, raw, potatoes because he thought it would give him protein like eating raw eggs would. 

Asmodeus

He’s pretty; he doesn’t have to be smart.

Once stared frustratingly in the mirror for 15 minutes trying to figure out why the phrase written on his shirt was backwards. 

The first time he dyed his hair, he got mad that it didn’t grow the same color out of his scalp.

Forgets that he owns something and will by numerous duplicates. 

1000% has fallen for MLM scams

Satan

No thought only cat.

You need to watch him like a toddler if you take him to the zoo. He will try to jump into every big cat enclosure. 

Has started fires in his room multiple times because he put candles on top of his books (Seriously dude your room is a fire hazard) but is still clueless as to how it happened.

The first time he saw a racoon he thought it was a rare breed of cat and tried to snuggle it.

Leviathan

Somebody take his screens away. 

Has 100% tried to “Back Space” words when writing physically with pen and paper.

More than once has screamed at a game system for not working when he had just not realized that it was unplugged.

Has definitely run into walls after sitting 2 feet away from his giant TV like a 3 year old. 

Has completely ignored and walked away from people because he is too busy creating a theme music for himself as he’s doing something that he perceives as cool.

Mammon

I think I could never run of ideas for how airheaded this man is, but I’ll go for the abstract ones since there are many that are obvious.

One of those dudes who thinks pee comes out of the vagina. 

Definitely goes down existential rabbit holes because of questions like “Is cereal a soup” or “is a hotdog a sandwich”

Will literally believe anything you tell him if you say it with enough sincerity- even if it’s the most ridiculous thing you could think of. 

100% believes that horror movies like Friday the 13th are based on true events and is convinced that most humans die by serial killers

Lucifer

This man has absolutely done the dumbest shit when he is sleep deprived. 

Will lose things that he is holding in his hands as he’s using them- often it’s his pen or his phone. 

has drank scalding hot coffee because he forgot it was too hot to drink. 

Leaves things in the oven and microwave all the time. Usually Beel finds it and eats it, and he’s none the wiser.

Talks to himself all the time, usually giving reminders to do things or a grocery list, but also will just narrate things. 

 Literally a Golden Retriever.

Diavolo

Holds up his his fingers in an L shape to determine right from left- which never works because he forgets which way an L is supposed to go. 

Will believe pretty much anything you tell him about the human world if you say it with enough conviction.

Constantly doing the most ridiculous things without thinking of the consequences- often times leaving Lucifer or Barbatos to clean up his mess. 

Constantly bothers Mc, Lucifer, and Barbatos when they’re busy- even after just being scolded for being a distraction- because he forgets that they’re doing something and wanted to show them something cool

Barbatos

He’s probably the least ditzy, but even he has his moments.

Walks into the kitchen and forgets why he was going in there. All the time. 

Accidentally goes through all of the Little D’s names before getting the right one- even if he had JUST done the same thing for a different little D

Will step out the door to go somewhere with Lord Diavolo and immediately wonder if he left the Stove on. He will go check, and still wonder if it’s on 5 hours later. 

Mephistopheles

Simp! Simp alert!

Will do anything you tell him if you said “Well, I guess I could go ask Lucifer to do it...” even if its embarrassing or flat-out dangerous lol

Diavolo occupies his brain at all times so he’s often distracted by intense pining for their “friendship” that was totally not a one-way crush. (go listen to “When Somebody Loved Me” from Toy Story 2 lol)

One of those “Um AcTUaLly” bros who is always wrong about the thing they’re correcting you on to an absurd degree. 

Somebody go teach grandpa how to use a computer. 

Simeon

Has definitely given his computer a virus by clicking a popup ad, and also fell for the “Nigerian Prince” emails

“Do you think someone would just go on the internet and tell lies?” 

No seriously he will see some wild conspiracy on Devilgram or Devilbook and be convinced it is real. Lord help him. 

Definitely thinks Boomer memes are funny. Send him a minion, he will laugh his ass off. 

Raphael

Elevator music playing in his brain at all times.

Immediately choses violence as an option every time no matter the circumstances and this is quite literally CANON.

Is always the last to know some secret that isn’t really a secret and is really obvious. 

Will test the sharpness of his spears by jamming them into the ground, and then get mad when he cant yank them back up. 

Luke

Just a poor child trying his best. Someone teach him. 

Probably didn’t know what a chihuahua was when someone first compared him to one but was too embarrassed to admit he didn’t know so he just like. Went with it. Until he found out they are a tiny yippy dog- then he got angy. 

Absolutely believes that babies come from the Stork. 

Thought the “PG” movie rating meant “Pretty Good.”

Solomon

His cooking cant be that bad...can it?

Will throw quite literally anything into a pot when cooking, even if it doesn’t make sense to do so, because he likes to “experiment” 

The first time he sees a fidget spinner he loses his fucking mind. “What is this? It’s spinning! I am in pure bliss!”

Has definitely blown up a classroom at RAD because he snuck in a potion to test out and accidentally dropped it.

Has definitely said some really outdated cringy slang. “Tubular!” “Oh man, so grody!” 

Thirteen

Conspiracy theorist- for sure.

Didn’t believe that Belphie and Beel were twins because they didn’t look alike (she did not know fraternal twins were a thing).

Is convinced that Solomon is an alien. 

Mispronounces words all the time because she rarely talks to others until the exchange program and primarily sees things written (e.g. Fragile as “Fra-gee-lay” and Bologna as “Bow-log-nah”)

Does not test her traps before using them, and gets mad when they don’t work.

#obey me! #obey me #shall we date: obey me #obey me swd #obm #obey me headcanons #obm headcanons #headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obeg me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me raphael #obey me Mephistopheles #obey me thirteen

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

Sending a headcannon and I got carried away:

Our Dragon-Parented Dragonslayers needed to learn modern Fioran (or whatever languages Earthland X777 had) after arriving in the future and Natsu's the one with the biggest grasp of it.

---

These kids were from 400 years in the past when there was a huge dragon-feud going on. If Nirvana and Dragnof are any indication, multiple civilizations fell during that time and with it the loss of several languages. Whatever language they had been taught (which was likely at least one form of dragonic at the time...because dragon parents), it's probably considered extinct in X777.

But thing is I think Natsu may have been the only one to get lessons on how to read and write Fioran.

Gajeel? He got stuck in Phantom Lord, which (to put it nicely) had a sink-or-swim philosophy towards it's members. He probably picked up on a bit on his own, but likely also struggles reading job assignments and won't let anyone know he is (side headcannon: our favorite linguist Levy helped him out once she found out he was struggling).

Wendy? The kid who first got adopted by a runaway prince from another dimension and then by a 400 year old ghost? I don't think either of them know Fioran themselves, much less could teach it. On the bright side, she probably also knows ancient Nirvit.

The Two Sabergoofs? Same case as Gajeel. Rogue's hit with a double whammy since he supposedly hung around Phantom Lord before getting yeeted to Sabertooth's guildmaster. Though this probably leads to a few complications once Sting is guildmaster and has to start filling out paperwork.

So much to everyone's surprise, out of all of them Natsu - who got seven-years worth of supportive family at the orphan daycare - is the one who can read/write in modern language best.

It's not a unique headcannon by any means but one of my favorites. Thoughts?

Y'see this is what im talkin bout, some good ol' analysis stuff.

I had a post aaaaagggeeees ago (if i find it back i may link it) bout like a crack situation where the team got forced to speak their first languages and natsu n wendy got stuck speaking their og ancient fioran languages and no one could understand wtf they were saying (and they couldnt understand each other neither bcus i had it that they were speakin different dialects of ancient fioran but details.). But i am gettin off track.

I always hc that most of the slayers didnt end up in Fiore when they got shot to the future, itd be kinda boring if they all ended up on the same continent. So Gajeel for me landed in Bosco so he learnt Boscan first as his modern language before he made his way to fiore to learn the language there by osmosis. I think Gajeel as a character especially to me with his spying skills and generally personality is super discerning with his desire to know information. So i think he's largely self taught with everything when he was on his own and knows 2 languages fully- Boscan and Fioran- but his fioran is weaker especially when it comes onto the writing part. And he vaguely knows phrases and terms from a bunch of diff languages.

Wendy landed closer to the border of Fiore and Seven before mystogan picked her up. I'd like to think that the language in Edolas and Earthland is largely the same orally (but it'd have a whole different written language) so he managed to teach her how to speak modern fioran but write in modern edolas. Which was a weird disconnect when the team found out down the line lmao. When he left her with cait shelter she picked up that additional language (which is a purely oral language) and is probs the only person left in modern fiore who can speak it (Levy loves her for it)

Sting got yote to Caelum before somehow making his way over to Minstrel then Fiore, he speaks a weird combo package of slangs from all 3 and he's not fully fluent in all of em (fioran is his best) and sometimes when he can't remember a word in one he'll supplement it with a word from another. He's ironically better at the written languages with them than speakin em.

Rogue met Sting in Minstrel briefly (didnt stick around with each other and then ran into each other again in fiore) but Rogue never picked up on Minstrel's language easily so he only picked up on fioran when he eventually made his way over. He knows brief smatterings and terms from other languages from his time hanging out with phantom lord but is only fluent in just the one.

Natsu's the only sucker who landed squarely in Fiore and was picked up by Makarov who had him fluent enough in speaking modern fiore before he got him back to the guild. He didn't get around to starting him with writing so that was a task for the others to teach and get him up to speed (to varying success. His handwriting sucks ass). I also like to think he hung around a decent amount with Levy when he was younger (he liked listening when she read her stories aloud) so he has a weird mixed bag of being able to read and understand a whole bunch of random language bits despite not actively trying to learn em.

Ok byyyyeeeeeeeeeee

#fairy tail #fairy tail headcanon #dragon slayer headcanon #gajeel redfox #wendy marvell #rogue cheney #sting eucliffe #natsu dragneel #hi hylian i got carried away :]

[dduane]

Diane, I am wondering something about writing and you are very wise and very kind.

For context, I've been seeing a therapist for a few months and just saw a psychiatrist Sunday night and they both used the phrase "dissociative daydreaming". It started when I was about 13 and I'm 28 now and it is getting in the way of my life. I'll be having a one-on-one conversation with someone alone in a quiet room and completely miss a few seconds of what they say, and I zone out a lot when eating at restaurants and it creeps people out. The psychiatrist says we are going to work on getting this under control in the next couple months.

The thing is, I like writing fiction and I do a lot of my imagining while I'm in this "zoned out" state. You know, that being a major part of dissociative daydreaming. So I'm wondering, sorry for assuming (assuming makes an ass out of you and me), but if you do not also dissociative daydream, or any other fiction writers here do, how do you think about your stories? Do you just sit down at your desk and say to yourself "I shall write a story now" without leaving your unoccupied body staring at a wall?

First of all: my apologies for having taken so long to get to this... my ask box is so piled up with overdue stuff right now. (sigh) And thanks for the nice words. I don't know about the "wise", and sometimes I screw up the "kind", but I do what I can with what I've got.

Anyway, re: "Do you just sit down at your desk and say to yourself 'I shall write a story now' without leaving your unoccupied body staring at a wall?"

...Yeah, pretty much. Here's how the story-building process usually goes for me.

First I outline. (As detailed here.) The outlining is for me the equivalent of drawing a blueprint, or doing the measure-twice work that comes before taking a saw to the materials you're going to use to build a bookshelf. For this part of the process, as I assemble the underlying framework of the story, I've found it vital to be as completely present, alert and aware as possible. This is where the order of physical action gets laid out, errors of reasoning get caught, blind alleys get erased from the blueprint, useless character transactions get identified and thrown away, and hunches / incomplete ideas get incorporated.

While assembling the outline, if I find my concentration drifting or somehow compromised, I stop work as quickly as possible and put it aside until I can find time to deal with it when I won't be distracted by other stuff. Much experience has taught me that if I get sloppy about this, I may well wind up being really annoyed about it later on... secondary to having missed something vital about character interactions, or screwed up some important sequence of physical action. The writing time lost in fixing careless errors of this kind infuriates me... so I take my time with the outlining.

It's after the framework of the story is in place that the vaguing-out stages of both writing and thinking about the writing come into play. Over many years I've found that the shower, in the morning, is one of the best places for this. Usually when I'm in active writing mode on a project, the first thing I'll do after waking up (while still in bed) will be to look over the writing done the previous day, and—if there's need—check the outline to see what I was planning to do next. Then I hit the showers.

That's where the ideas really start to flow while I'm unfocused: scene descriptions and action sequences in particular. I don't know what it is, but running water really seems to do it for me. (One time I was up at this place for a writing trip, and plotted about six novels one after the other, over a week. Those tubes in the picture dump a liter of hot water per second onto your head. Very, very effective for me.)

...I'm also absolutely horrified to have to admit that one of the very best places for me to be in order to have dialogue arrive is at the kitchen sink, doing dishes. Possibly because there are few other situations in my day to day life where I more desperately want to have my mind be somewhere else. Anywhere else. (But also: running water again...)

In between these two modes of composition lies a hybrid "full-spectrum" writing mode in which I can switch pretty much seamlessly from total immersion in the scene presently unfolding to a more analytical examination of what's going on: a constant realtime adjustment of format issues, timing, pacing, and a lot of other things. When in this mode I can vague out when necessary, inventing new stuff as needed or refining material that was already there, and then snap back into the mode where I'm keeping an eye on paragraph lengths or whether there are too many em-dashes popping up. :)

...Anyway, that''s how it goes for me. The usual caveat applies here: other people's (entirely successful!) processes will not necessarily look anything like this. ...Meanwhile, I absolutely wish you good results in your upcoming brainwork, and the better management of your own process.

#writing #writing process #also #hot water #LOTS OF HOT WATER

[afictionaladventure16]

I'm a sucker for angst 😭 I saw ur Quinceañera post and I wa wondering if you could do another part of "Taking it all in" where Pedro and Daughter!reader are planning for it or Daughter!reader is having the most fun she'd had in a while and then estranged mother comes in and things get angsty (with fluff in the end of it)

Taking It All In (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Pt. IV

Word Count: 3,404

A/N: Some of this I got the idea from One Day At a Time, but I was writing this already when I saw your request! Thank you for requesting it!! Hope you enjoy!!

Previously

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Song: De Nina A Mujer by Janet Dacal

Warnings: Mentions of abandonment and mildly edited fic...

A Quinceanera, it was the last thing you wanted to think about, but it was one of the main things you were looking forward to this year. For years you had imagined your quinceanera, what kind of dress you would have, and the theme too. For years, you were excited for this day, the day you get to begin planning. Yet, it all came crumbling down. Instead of the excitement of the event, it felt more like a distraction from the real situation. 

Over the past three months, your mother had been on a rampage, determined to take your dad to court over custody. After your little run-in, your dad mentioned how he had run into her as well. He never kept anything from you and with the threat she had made that day, he wasn’t going to start. He let you in on everything that was going on and you appreciated him being honest with you, even if sometimes you didn’t want to hear it. 

You didn’t understand your mother's motive, why she suddenly had an interest in your life after all these years. You thought that if it were to ever happen if your mom ever came back into your life, you would be happy. Now, knowing what you know now, you couldn’t help but feel angry. 

Somehow, your mother managed to get supervised visits on the weekends. They were couple-hour visits on Saturdays and Sundays, your dad wasn’t allowed to be in the area during that time, so you opted to have your aunt join. It was either her or the lawyers and you wanted someone you knew to be around. 

At first, the visits were spent in silence, your mother asking questions and you responding in as few words as possible. Then she began to make luxurious promises. A nice vacation with the family as a whole on a cruise, Disneyworld vacation as a family, or even Cancun as a family. It was always ‘as a family’ and you didn’t know if she was including or excluding your dad in the phrase. 

“I liked singing as a kid, did you like singing?” Your mother asked. You glanced at your phone for the fifth time in ten minutes. Only an hour left and you can go home. 

You shrugged, “I was in the school choir in middle school,” you responded. 

She cleared her throat, “So, you’re fourteen, that means we should be planning your quince soon,” she said with a big smile. 

“Already am,” you stated. “Dad began planning a little before I turned fourteen, sometimes I think he’s a bit more excited than I am.” 

Your mother’s face fell for a second, but she was quick to put a smile on her face, “Well, quince planning is no place for a dad. Maybe it should be our thing,” she began. “You know, to try and reconnect?” 

Your tia could sense your uneasiness, “well, it’d be difficult to do, since it’s only a month away,” she commented. 

“Only a month away? It can’t be that soon already,” your mother said as she pondered about it. She looked at her phone, “wow, I guess it is,” she commented. “So, um, that means you probably already sent your invitations out.” 

You gave her a nod, “Sent them out last week.” 

She nods, “That’s great.” 

You sighed, you knew what she was trying to get at. Was it the right thing to invite her? Would that mean you would have to invite her family too? You hadn’t even met your siblings yet, let alone her husband. “Um, did you want to go?” 

She smiled, “What mother wouldn’t want to go?” 

You shrugged, “I mean, I’d have to talk to Dad about it.” 

“Of course,” she smiled, “I just would hate to miss another big event in your life.” 

You gave her another nod, “Honesty, I just don’t know how comfortable I’d be with… you know, your kids being there since I’ve never even met them.”

She scoffed, “But they’re your brother and sister.” 

“Yeah, but, I’ve never met them and I don’t think I’m ready to meet them.” 

She let out a dry chuckle, “They’ve been dying to meet you, Y/N, they’re your brother and sister after all.” 

You sighed, “I know they’re my brother and sister,” you snapped. “I’m just not ready, okay?” You looked over at Javiera, who just gave you a nod. 

She glanced at her watch, “We should get going,” she began. “Y/N, you have a big essay that you need to work on, remember?” You nodded, understanding what she meant. There was no essay, but your mother didn’t need to know that. 

Your mother cleared her throat, “I’ll see you next week?” She said with a smile. 

“Yeah,” you said as you got up from the picnic bench and walked over to the car. 

Your mother looked over at Javiera with pleading eyes. Javiera, even though she didn’t like Gabriela, felt a little sorry for her, “Give her time,” she suggested. 

Gabriela sighed, “How much more time does she need?” 

“More than you can give her,” Javiera muttered. 

“I know you don’t like me.” 

“No shit,” Javiera stopped herself, “I can’t deal with this right now, I’ll see you next week.” Javiera got into the car, she was half expecting you to say something to her but wasn’t surprised when you remained quiet. 

You continued to remain quiet for the duration of the drive, your mind wandering into an abyss that Javiera didn’t want to interrupt. Maybe you needed time to think about everything that had just happened and you were thankful for that time. For some odd reason, car rides were just the best time to just think. But, like all car rides, they come to an end. 

Walking into the apartment, your dad engulfed you in a hug, it was routine at this point. He would bombard you with hugs as soon as you got home from a visit as if you had been deprived of it for the past few hours. 

“How’d it go?” your dad asked as soon as Javiera walked into the apartment.

You gave him a shrug as you tossed your things onto the couch, “Gabriela wants to be invited to the Quince,” your aunt answered for you. 

“What?” Pedro looked over at his sister in disbelief, “What did you tell her?” he looked over at you. 

“I told her I’d talk to you,” you finally responded, taking a seat on the couch.

“Well, what do you think?” Pedro asked as he sat beside you, “Do you want to invite her?” 

You shrugged, “I feel obligated to.” 

He shook his head, “you’re not obligated to invite anyone you’re not comfortable inviting.” 

You sighed, “I know, I just… I don’t know. If I invite her then I feel like she’d be upset because I wouldn’t want her… family to come along.” 

Pedro took in a deep breath, “It’s up to you, Mija. You call the shots when it comes to your Quince.” 

“What do you think?” 

Pedro looked over at his sister, who stood nearby, she gave him a shrug. He then looked back over at you, “I think if she really wants to be a part of your life, she’d be fine with any decision you make. Whether that’s not inviting her or inviting her but not her… family. Whatever you decide to do, I support you.” 

“Even if it’s a dumb decision?” 

He kissed your forehead, “Even if it’s a dumb decision.” 

You didn’t make your decision right away, as a matter of fact, you didn’t make a decision until two weeks before the event. Deciding was hard, but you decided that if she was really wanting to make the effort then she’d respect your decisions. 

“You can come,” you said as you got up from the same picnic bench you had been meeting at over the past few months. 

Her eyes lit up like a kid at a candy store, “Really?” She took a step forward, and you took a step back. 

“But only you,” you continued. 

“W-what?” 

“I’m just not comfortable with the idea of them being there… It’s an important day for me-” 

“And you should want to share it with them,” she pleaded. 

You were beginning to think it was a mistake, “I should if I had known them for a longer period of time… but I don’t. I only know their names and whatever stories you told me about them. I need you to respect my decision.” 

She sighed, “Alright.” 

You dug through your bag, pulling out an invitation. “Here’s the invitation,” you said handing her the invitation. 

She took the invitation, giving you a small smile. “See you next week?” You nodded, before walking back to the car. 

The day of your Quinceñera was everything you could imagine. Your dress was Y/F/C, it wasn’t as big as most girls’ Quinceñera dresses, mostly because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to do anything if it were. You wore a tiara that your dad had specifically picked out. 

You made your grand entrance right after your Quince court did, you had a good friend from school to be your chambelan. Your Tia had teased you about it, but he was only a friend. Shortly after the entrance, some of your family members, including your padrinos (Godparents) which were Oscar and his wife, took the opportunity to say a few words. 

Your dad announced that he would say something after the father-daughter dance, mentioning how he didn’t want to get emotional too early in the night. Even though he had been emotional throughout the day. 

After your tia said a few words, it was time for dinner. You frantically looked around for your mom, you felt horrible that she wasn’t included for a good amount of the reception.

You spotted her at a table off to the side, “You look so beautiful!” she greeted you with a hug. 

“Thank you!” you smiled. “I was thinking, I feel bad you’re being left out of-” 

“Don’t worry about that, Y/N,” she smiled, “I get it, I wasn’t part of the planning committee, so doing things last minute would make things difficult.” 

“Well, not all things are that difficult, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to do like a mother-daughter dance? Dad said he’s willing to give up the spotlight for a few minutes,” you looked over at your dad who was, in his terms, killing it on the dance floor. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his moves. 

She sighed, “That’s sweet,” she wanted to feel happy about it, she really did. “Alright.” 

“Great!” you grinned from ear to ear. “Also, I was thinking, maybe next week we can talk about maybe… um…” you let out a dry chuckle, “Maybe taking the kids to the park or something?” 

Gabriela looked at you in disbelief, “really?” 

“Let’s talk about it next week?” She gave you a nod before you walked off. Why couldn’t she feel happy about this? It was what she wanted, what she begged for, but now it was in her hands and she was having trouble feeling happy with all the guilt she felt. 

“Fuck,” she muttered to herself. 

Pedro, on the other hand, was slowly coming to terms with the situation. He saw how happy you were today and he allowed himself to be happy too. He walked away from the dance floor, looking over at Gabriela, she paced around by the exit. He wondered what she was doing, she had to be on the dance floor in a few minutes. 

He looked around for you, easily spotting you at one of the tables talking to a family member. He let out a sigh, walking over to Gabriela, “Gabriela?” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. 

“Fuck,” she muttered again, as she made her way out of the banquet hall. 

“Gabriela!” Pedro exclaimed, following her out. “Que te pasa?” 

She couldn’t help but chuckle, “You remember the night I told you I was pregnant?” Pedro nodded, “you asked me the same thing.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered. 

He shook his head, “No,” he hissed. “Don’t do this to her.” 

“I’m sorry, Pedro, I really am.” 

“Don’t do this, Gabriela!” He said louder, “Do you have any idea how happy she is right now and you’re just gonna tear that down!” 

“I know, I know!” 

“No, you don’t, because you won’t be the one picking up the pieces!” Gabriela let out a sob, “If you leave, don’t expect a welcoming party.” 

“Pedro, please.” 

“Don’t ‘Pedro, please’ me! You’re tearing my daughter apart, Gabriela. No puedo mirar la asi, (I can’t see her like that) you don’t know how bad she got because of you. You don’t know what I had to do just to see her smile again! I told you I didn’t want to see you do more damage to my little girl and I was naive to think you could have changed.” 

“I deserve a chance to get to know her-” 

“You had your chance Fifteen years ago and you gave it up.” Gabriela wiped away her tears, “Why did you even come back, huh?” 

Gabriela crossed her arms in front of her chest, “My husband, he’s um, he’s running for Governor-” 

“Stop.” 

“But I swear, that wasn’t the only reas-” 

“But it’s the main reason!” Pedro looked at Gabriela with disgust, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“I really wanted to get to know her and to-” 

Pedro shook his head, “It’s a little hard to believe that right now, Gabriela.” Pedro could hear the announcement of the Mother-Daughter dance, “If you want to prove me wrong, you’d walk inside right now and dance with our daughter.” 

“Pedro,” she pleaded. 

“Demostrar que estoy equivocado, Gabriela.” (Prove me wrong). 

She shook her head, “No puedo, Pedro. Necesito tiempo.” (I need time). 

“Gabriela, has tenido tiempo.” (You’ve had time) Pedro watched as Gabriela turned around, pulling out keys from her purse, “Gabriela,” he called out, but she didn’t stop. “Gabriela, Don’t do this!” She got in her car and drove off. 

The announcement had been made five minutes ago, and everyone had gotten off the dance floor so you could have the spotlight. The DJ announced the dance again, and you smiled as you looked around. Your heart dropped when you couldn’t spot her. Was it too good to be true? to think she would ever want to stay a part of your life. The intro of the song slowly began to fade in, and tears began to well up in your eyes. All you wanted was for your mother to finally step up and be a part of your life, but just when you thought you could forgive her she leaves you. 

You spotted your dad walking back into the banquet hall, his heart ached as he saw you standing alone on the dance floor. You looked at him with hopeful eyes, but he shook his head walking over to where you stood in the middle of the dance floor. He noticed tears begin to well up in your eyes, “Hey, hey, hey, I got you,” he whispered as he took your hand and began slowly leading you into the dance. 

He led the dance, slowly swaying from side to side, “Papi, she-” 

“I know, Mija, I know,” he whispered, you leaned your head on his chest as he settled his gently on top of yours. “Don’t worry, Cariño, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said softly. “Let’s just forget about it for the night,” he said in a hopeful manner. 

It was hard to just forget about it, it was your mother. The woman who was so desperate to have you in her life threatened to take full custody of you, and now she was nowhere in sight. You let out a shaky sigh, “You know, you used to dance to this song when you were little,” your dad began to say. The song was close to an end, “telling me about how you wanted to dance with me to this song at your quince,” he let out a dry chuckle. “Now here we are,” he pulled away, taking your hand to give you a twirl, “De Nina a Mujer,” he commented. 

For a moment, you forgot what had just happened, all of the anger and sadness vanished. You remembered the memories you had with your father and even though something was always missing, it was always filled with his efforts in trying to be both parents for you. The song slowly faded to an end and everyone began to clap, your dad pulled you in for an embrace, “Ya no eres un nina,” (You're no longer a little girl) his voice shook, “pero siempre seras mi bebe.” (but you'll always be my baby)He placed a kiss on your forehead. 

The night continued on as planned, your court did an amazing surprise dance and your dad cried a handful of times throughout the other planned events. Finally, your dad took a hold of the mic, and the music slowly faded out as people made their way off the dance floor. 

“I just want to come on here and say a few words,” he began to say. “I’ve been avoiding it because my baby girl is no longer a baby,” his voice shook. “I am extremely proud of everything she has accomplished in her life so far and I am proud to say that I am her father. She makes me proud every single day,” He looked over at you. “Mija, you’re gonna do wonderful things in life, you are my biggest blessing in life and I a grateful for you every single day.” Tears welling up in your eyes, “Soon enough you’ll think you won’t need your old dad anymore, but just know I will be here no matter what. I can’t wait to see what you’ll do in life. Feliz Cumpleaños, Cariño.” 

You let the tears fall from your cheeks, you walked up to your dad and wrapped your arms around him. People began clapping and the music slowly began to fade in again. 

“Bailamos!” your dad yelled into the mic. The Dj played Cupid Shuffle, which made your dad grin from ear to ear, “Come on, Mija! This is our time to show our moves!” you rolled your eyes, “Come on!” he groaned. 

You laughed as you followed your dad's steps throughout the song, other people had joined in too. Soon enough it was a full dance floor, you danced with your friends and danced a few songs with your dad.

"What kind of dance moves are those?" You questioned your dad, as he did a little jump with his butt in the air.

"Am I not twerking?" You and those surrounding you laughed at his attempt, "Am I not doing it right?"

You shook your head, "No! God please, just stop!" And just for a night, you felt at peace. Everything that had happened was in the past or it was tomorrow's problem. Today, you are fifteen and enjoying your day with the people you loved. 

Your Quince didn’t end until past midnight and you knew it was a successful Quince when it went past midnight. You said your goodbyes to your guests and friends. 

You didn’t see your mother over the weekend, nor did you pick up her phone calls. Your dad told you what had happened and what had been said. Part of you felt stupid for even thinking that starting a relationship with your mom was a good idea. 

When Monday arrived, you wanted to just forget about everything, and act like the past few months never existed. Your dad had enough to win the custody battle, the lawyers were confident in the win. 

“Don’t forget tomorrow we’re doing a study group at the library after school,” One of your friends mentioned as you all walked out of the building. 

“I know,” you muttered. “See you guys tomorrow!” you said as you began walking down the sidewalk. 

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice call out.

You stopped in your tracks, your heart beating fast as you turned around, “What are you doing here?” you asked your mother. 

“Can we talk?” 

Pedro Pascal Taglist:   @cilliansangel  @change-the-world-someday  @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @tracysnook @Ilovehotdadsandshit @dzaga890 @marantha @emmasauger @marysucks-blog @pcotato @scrappybear89 @dlwrish @what-ever-man213

#pedro pascal platonic #pedro pascal x daughter!reader #pedro pascal x daughter #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x platonic!reader #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x daughter teen #pedro pascal x daughter angst #pedro pascal x daughter reader #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal dad #pedro pascal daughter #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal daughter reader #pedro pascal daughter!reader #pedro pascal x teen!reader platonic #pedro pascal x teen platonic #pedro pascal x teen reader #pedro pascal x teen #pedro pascal x teen!reader

[ponderingmoonlight]

Since I was bombarded with anon statements about me using AI again, I'll say it here on last time: I see and understand where artist come from, I get the frustration over "artists" claiming AI work as their own, selling those pics and getting quite some fame for it.

But accusing me of stealing because I let an AI software turn me and readers into jjk or demon slayer style pictures is a little insane, don't you think? Especially advicing me to just use pictures on Pinterest or out of the manga. I don't want to hurt or trigger someone, but isn't that exactly what stealing is out of your context as well? Isn't using screenshots of jjk anime or manga "stealing" as well? And don't get me started on using random pics on Pinterest where you simply can't find out who's the original artist anymore. The argument that AI gets feeded countless pics on the internet and consumes artists hard work in the process sounds absolutely depressing and I'd be pissed as well.

But when I thought about it more...When putting your stuff on the internet, you deliver it to basically the whole earth. Damn, even my fics were found on some Russian site translated and without stating I was the one writing it. I get the frustration, I get the hate! But at the same time I feel like you aren't im charge for what happens on the internet anymore. As soon as you publish your stuff on literally ANY site (since all of them are collecting your data like Thanos anyway), it will get feeded into that system. Who knows how many of my countless essays already landed in there and are a part of someone's work? Who knows how many phrases of my fics I would be able to find when searching with ChatGPT? This isn't talking your concerns down or explaining myself, but rather showing that it's literally ANY artist out there getting affected by AI. You could just search for a fic with Gojo and boom, ChatGPT delivers way faster than me.

But why are you still here, then? Because NOTHING compares to original art!

Like I said over and over, I'd love to collab with artists. But much to my understanding, a lot of them work for MONEY and since my content is FREE, I'm simply not able to pay for the sheer presentation. Also, when looking at my blog, you'll see that I'm using like 70% of anime screenshots by now.

Let me take this opportunity to ask: are you even familar with how generating pictures with the help of AI even works? To make it short, the ML algorithms get "trained" with a huge ammount of training data (we are talking about like 1 billion pics here, depending on the AI). Yes, that data is sourced from the internet. Yes, that data will most likely include the content of artists on the internet without consent (which isn't fair). BUT that art doesn't find direct use in the later generated pics. It rather helps training the algorithms in order to "learn" aspects and characteristics of the imagine in correlation to the picture you want to translate into a certrain art style (like in my chase) or based on the described properties that the image should have (e.g. Bing AI). To translate that: You don't type in "blonde girl with blue eyes" and the AI just shows you a stolen picture online that fits into that description but generates its own version of it based on the pictures it got trained with before. Of course, it surely depends on the AI you're using and it is your responsibility as a consumer to think about ethical correctness here. But same goes for the people simply hating on me over the fact that I'm using AI and accusing me of stealing while this is definetely not the chase.

I won't change my blog because of you, I will continue putting a pic here and there into a fic because not only I find it cute from time to time, but the people who request are thankful more than once because I'm able to make "their" fic feel a little more personal. I get this is controversial and that some people won't feel comfortable on this blog because of it, which is sad but life. I can't even count how many times I've got rude messages because the jjk screenshots I've took myself out of the anime are someone else's artwork, because the manga panels are also artwork and I'm stealing them for my own content. I feel like I'm always in the wrong here, so I'll continue what I'm doing and what makes me happy.

Also, let me get this straight: I'm a writer who uses AI generated pics from time to time in order to spice up a cover and you're able to see that in the very first entry on my blog. It's really not that deep over here.

Have a nice day everyone