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mellowwillowy · 7 months

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𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲

Yan! Lawyer Husband x GN Spouse Reader

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

CW: mafia related stuffs (ALL FOR READER...), disturbing ideations. NSFW

You were the subject of envy for everyone, the spouse of the infamous lawyer, Yulian de Alpheus, who possessed wealth, reputation, intelligence, and undying loyalty to you. To people, you were the beautiful dove living in the gilded cage he had given you, luxuries that fulfilled anyone's needs and wishes.

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒈𝒆?

To him, the one who was truly locked in the cage was him. He was and would forever be locked in the gilded cage, forever drowned in his adoration toward you. If he had to live in a world where you did not exist, he would not hesitate to shoot himself to death and find you again.

"Dear, how about we go on a vacation this month?"

His words had you choked on your food. He immediately stood up and pat your back, a handkerchief that you embroidered for him handed to you as he handed you a glass of water, "Apology, did my question catch you off guard dear?"

You shook your head while you regained your composure, "It's just that I was surprised, you had been busy these days so how could you spare me your time for a silly vacation?"

Yulian chuckled as he patted your head, "True, and I plan to work even harder to finish all the mess they had shoved me to work on, I'm sure I could finish it right in time before our estimated vacation."

You frowned to yourself, your husband had always been a hard-working man. It was no surprise judging by the amount of assets he could own at such a fairly young age. While some of it was thanked to his father, you knew those would not remain had he not worked hard to keep and grow.

"Dear, I don't want you to over-exert yourself with this case just for a vacation. If you were worried about me then please pay no mind, I am content with everything but you stressing yourself."

Yulian sat back and started slicing the meat on his plate, "Dear, I did not marry you just to have you live in this house as a prisoner," the way he sliced things was of good etiquette but you knew. You knew how he always looks at the things he sliced as a subject of... low-life. "I want my beloved to live in happiness, a life where you get to have and own anything you want without a single worry," It's almost as though he wished he could use more force with the knife, "A life where you do not wish to end," Yulian used his fork to pick the sliced meat up to your lip, "A life where you wish you could live in for eternity."

You thought to yourself for a moment, drowning in thought before smiling at him, "Yes, a vacation this month sounds nice." You opened your mouth and ate the piece.

"What were you even thinking about to the point you tangle yourself into this mess?" Yulian furrowed his eyebrow, in his office was the leader of a renowned mafia group in the underground world and Yulian sat on the leathered chair with his hand wiping his white gun.

The ringleader's subordinates were clearly displeased with the way Yulian easily belittled the case and him but they knew better than to cause a mess.

"So? What do you need this time?"

Yulian stored the gun back in its respective place, locking the shelf with the key before handing the ringleader's subordinate a folder of files.

"I'll need you to fabricate everything I handed you. I've given you options of people for you to use as a scapegoat as well."

The ringleader took the folder and started reading the files in it, scanning the words that were typed on it.

"And I expect you to finish it all by this week. I'll be taking a vacation for myself by the end of the month so I'll finish the case in a few trials. I'd like you to find a way around the judge and jury as well. The more the better, understood?"

Yulian was an infamous lawyer. A lawyer who would validate any way to make his client proclaimed 'Not Guilty'. As much as he hated having to drag his name around the underground world, he had no choice but to work together with them. Why?

"Fine, I'll inform you everything this weekend." The ringleader left the room with his subordinates following behind him meekly. The moment they had walked out of his building and entered the car, one of them posed a question.

"Why did you let that shrimp belittle you, boss? It's not like he is the only lawyer we could have our hand with."

The ringleader did not look at his subordinate as he was still analyzing the content of the files. Even so, he was still attentive enough to answer them back, "Well, if you know exactly how strong my influence is, why do you think I allow him to boss over my men?"

The man gulped as his hand held the steering wheel tightly. Why would a measly bug be able to hold power over his boss?

"... He somehow got his hands into our mud. In simpler terms, he blackmailed me."

His right-hand man sighed, "Yulian is nothing but a coward, Kaspar. A coward."

What difference did it make to him? The fact that the two of them blackmailed people to survive while the ideations were biased to each side was nothing but hypocrisy.

"And yet he is the coward that dared to step into the underground world just to protect his spouse..." Kaspar winced at the word 'spouse', "he did all of that just for the love of his life. Is that supposed to be considered foolish or not...?"

The men fell silent until one of them proposed a question, "Then why not use his spouse against him?"

The basement that you did not know even existed. You knew there was a bunker down your house but you were never aware of the existence of the basement.

You were asleep so technically you couldn't have heard anything. No, the room was made to be soundproof, no one could hear what was going on in the room.

But you heard it anyway. You heard it faintly, the sounds of people screaming. It wasn't clear, almost below a whisper but it kept you awake. You looked to your side and found your husband absent from the bed again.

"Is he working again?"

You stood up and slipped your feet into the slippers before walking out of your shared bedroom. The hall was lit up by the warm white lights, the light that always comforts you no matter what. You walked toward his office which was located on the first floor, giving the grand door a knock before entering it.

"Dear?"

No one was inside the room. The room was laced with the smell of coffee, the only thing that he probably could love aside from you. You walked to his desk and read some of the files on it. The words on the paper were beyond your comprehension so you stopped reading it, glancing at the cup of coffee, you feel the cup with your hand. It's cold and full. Weird.

You took a look around his office, bookshelves on the side while a framed portrait of you and him hung on the other side.

He must have really loved this portrait, refusing to change it with a new one.

"Dear?"

You jumped at his voice, where did he come out from?

"Dear, where did you come from?"

"Ah, I was in the washroom. What brings you here? Did something wake you up?" Yulian asked you as he approached you while drying his hand with his handkerchief.

You took a closer look at it, it's not the same handkerchief you gave him. Weird. He had always been insistent on only using the handkerchief you embroidered for him.

"Dear?"

"Ah," you snapped out of your thought, "it's just that... I felt lonely. How long are you going to stay up again tonight dear?"

Yulian thought to himself as his eye shot toward the corner of the room, "Please, don't wait for me. I won't be finishing my work in any time so I hope you would use those time to retreat yourself to bed." Yulian pat your cheek before giving your cheek a peck, his emerald eyes had always drowned you in a ripple of the lovesick sea.

His hand snaked its way to your waist as he led you back to your shared bedroom, opening the door for you and urging you to lay on the comfortable white bed. He placed the blanket on top of you before sitting next to you, humming a lullaby while easing you down.

"My little Lily of the Valley is a curious soul hm? Your husband told you to sleep and you naughtily sneaked out of your room..." He playfully reprimanded you while you tried to drift yourself back to sleep. Hearing him teasing you like this was weird, but at least in a good way. What boosted his confidence?

"Someone like you should not wander around in the mercy of nighttime, even if it was in our own house," his hand caressed your hair while his eyes stared into your half-lidded ones, "my lily-of-the-valley should not wander around in the darkness anymore..."

Did you hear him right? Come to think of it, what woke you up earlier?

"Good night, my love."

"Good night, bastard."

A thud and the man who was tied to the chair plopped down, lifeless. The other men could only tremble in horror as they waited for their turn. Perhaps death would be the only slightest bit of virtue that he could offer, a mercy at his hands that was covered in bloodstains.

Just as he approached the other men, the alarm rang. Someone had entered his office. Yulian turned on the screen to the camera and saw you walking toward his desk, observing everything that was scattered on it.

He was glad that he didn't put anything 'suspicious' on it even if you wouldn't understand it. He didn't want to risk it.

Yulian went to the sink and washed his hands before motioning for someone to come out from the darkness. The members of the mafia walked out and waited for his order.

"Ah right, relay this message to your boss. Not only do these bastards will have to face the consequences of trying to touch my beloved, you guys too, will have to face it."

The men shuddered in fear as they thought of what he could do to them. The greatest mercy they could have would be that their boss would be the one who punished them and not the lawyer himself.

"Remember," Yulian walked toward them, hand taking out the handkerchief you embroidered for him, "I work for Kaspar so that this kind of thing won't happen. If this happens again, I'd personally make you guys crawl through the tunnels of prison for eternity."

His emerald orbs almost lit up into a burning fire as his jaw tightened in anger. He made his way toward the door before taking a look at the handkerchief.

He shouldn't use it for something so filthy.

He slid it back into his pocket and used another plain handkerchief instead.

"In short, he is the man who would not hesitate to kill his own children, his own blood and flesh, or his family just to save and love his beloved Lily of the Valley."

Kaspar sighed as he read the report. The scapegoats that he offered were his men who were on duty to protect his spouse.

"He is the man who had lived for eternity just to find and love his beloved again and again."

-- log end

Afternotes:

I didn't expect the fic to be this short (says the one who got lazy mid-way and cut half of the story...) anyway, I thought to myself, rather than let this rot in the draft, wouldn't it be better to post it even if it was only half completed without any proofread yet?

I'm really happy my first LIfE Project event features my favorite son, Yulian first! The next one might be Eleanor!

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#oc #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #reader insert #x reader #yandere headcanons #LIfE Project #Yulian the Corruption

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emma-needs-attention · 4 months

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I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.

And it makes me feel terrible.

I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.

And it made me feel terrible.

I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.

If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?

I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.

I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?

But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?

I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?

As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.

But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,” at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.

I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.

For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?

I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.

Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.

Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.

I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.

#trans #transfem #transgender #lgbtq #comics #essay #art #cw dysphoria

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raginglesbian2006 · 3 months

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what is your vision on Alastor with a Male Reader who is the opposite of him? Rarely smiles, isn't very chatty and is kinda rough? Maybe, since Alastor loves dancing and singing, Reader or feels shy about it and doesn't like the way he dances and sings or doesn't hate it and watches Alastor dance and sing

ooh, this is a fun ask, lets go

Alastor with a male reader who's the complete opposite of him

So you joined the Hazbin Hotel out of genuine curiosity

You had died fairly young, almost in your late twenties. You have never figured out why you ended up in hell

So it is safe to say, that when you heard of the Hazbin Hotel, you were eager to join, albeit a little skeptical

Of course, it came with your fair share of anxiety when you knocked on the doors of the hotel and were greeted with the ever-smiling radio demon

It spooked your little heart TO THE CORE

Ah well, fast forward a few weeks later and you were adjusting well

Angel Dust was quite protective of you, claiming you to be his younger brother

Niffty initially took to you since she thought you were a "bad boy" but hey, at least she considers you as a friend now

Charlie and Vaggie have been sweet to you and so have Husk and Sir Pentious

Of course, you'd have trouble trying to bond with Alastor

Alastor was loud, boisterous, and loved to scare the living shit out of people whereas you were quiet, reserved, and soft-spoken

Alastor didn't even pay mind to you that much. To him, you were insignificant

All that changed when he tasted your food though. You cook a mean jambalaya. (You were surprised to find Alastor's plate clean when you just turned around for one second)

After that, the radio demon hung around you from time to time and you started growing comfortable with him as well

You were not a fan of him pulling you along to dance on random occasions when jazz played through the radios

Still, you tried your best to keep up with him. You weren't into all the swing dancing so you resolved to just watch him do all the work lol

You aren't that chatty of a person so you just listen to Alastor blab about anything and everything. He once told you that you were a good listener and patted your head

He gave you a personalized radio one day. He bragged about how he came up with the immaculate design but you were too flustered to notice

So it seemed was the rest of the hotel

The big bad radio demon gave you a gift??? Are we talking about the same radio demon here?

It didn't stop there. You were bombarded with gifts every other day. Sometimes it was books, flowers, tea cup sets, or a full-on attire (He gave you a coat that looked just like his, except with the colors reversed)

You asked Alastor about his...frequent gift-giving and he very bluntly stated, "Why, my dear, I am trying to court you after all. "

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He took you out on a date after you recovered from your slight panic attack

You realize you don't mind being the radio demon's boyfriend

He even started being respectful of your quiet nature. He quite likes the peace anyway

Vox is foaming at the mouth and plotting to kill you as we speak

A/N: This turned out a little different than I'd hoped but I hope you enjoy it!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x male reader

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kuromitos · 27 days

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I had this story idea when I'm stumbled upon this baby daddy! Jason todd imagine/blurb/smut thing. (Idk how to describe it actually. (-_-)/~~~)

So here my idea...

Jason and reader are together for a year or so and she slowly getting frustrated/concerned with how self destructive Jason is (not taking care of himself, getting more reckless during patrol etc.)

She considered the idea of leaving him, but dick and Bruce made her reconsider by explaining that Gotham needs them all to be like this to protect the citizens and reminding her how much jason love her, he wouldn't leave her behind like that. He'll always come back to her. So she decides to stay and suck it up. The thought still lingered in the back of her head.

The thought came back in full force when she staring at a positive pregnancy test in her hand at 3am in the morning, waiting for jason to come back home. (Later than he promised her)

She told Bruce and dick immediately when she found out, freaking out and screaming, saying stuff like "I can't have a baby here! Not in this city!" And "It's too dangerous! How can we live with a baby when he risking his life every night!?!"

The overwhelming thoughts of having his child and immediately putting them in danger is too much for the reader , nobody can calm her down. Dick tries to help by throwing out ideas for her, but she shuts them down. So she decides right then and there that she breaks up with jason and leaves Gotham to raise the baby some place safe.

Dick immediately tries to talk her out of it, but Bruce interrupts him by saying "that the best choice here." He even helped her out by finding (and paying for) her a nice quiet house in a small town in another state and a couple of thousand dollars to keep her settled for awhile til she has everything figured out.

So when jason comes back home, he notices that all her belongings are gone and a note saying she left and won't come back. Crying and heart aching over losing his love...

A couple of years have passed, and the reader has settled down pretty fairly in the town and is enjoying the quiet life with her daughter that's a striking resemblance to Jason that it brings a tear to her eyes sometimes. But she doesn't regret moving away from Gotham cause she knows that her little family of two is safe and sound....

Til she sees a familiar red motorcycle pulling up in her driveway.

Do you guys think that is an interesting story idea for him or not?? Let me know..

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd imagine #dick grayson #bruce wayne #baby daddy!jason

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joelsgreys · 1 year

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loved her first

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: It's been two and a half years since you and Joel left your baby daughter in Bill and Frank's care; when a surprise thunderstorm strands the two of you in Lincoln for the night, you unexpectedly witness Joel bond with her.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. hints at Frank's deteriorating health condition, he is not bound to a wheelchair quite yet; glimpses of girldad!Joel, babygirl name reveal, angst, mention of Sarah. time jump to 2023, takes place a few months prior to Ellie coming into their lives.

word count 5.5k

A/N: um...this turned out to be more angsty than planned.

April, 2023

You watched her as she twirled around in front of the flower bushes, a small smile tugging lightly at the corners of your mouth.

Frank had mentioned before that she absolutely adored flowers; he’d also told you about how she loved being outdoors and how she would gladly, happily, abandon all of her dolls and other toys in exchange for frolicking outside. You’d had a difficult time believing him on that, but there you were, sitting just a few feet away, witnessing first hand with your very own eyes that it was actually true. She seemed to be having the time of her life spinning around and around in front of the array of colorful roses, petunias, and begonias that Bill and Frank had planted around the house right after the winter season had come and gone. It was so incredibly innocent, so endearingly pure, a beautiful sight that you already knew you would be constantly replaying on a loop in your memory for the rest of your life—memories of her were all you had. It wasn’t enough for you, though, not even fucking close; the memories of your daughter you took home were what kept you from losing your sanity, but they were nothing compared to what you actually wanted, which was to be her mother.

Because you were her mother.

You held back a small sigh, your gaze still locked on every part of her.

She wore the sweetest, springtime dress that surely must have come from the boutique—light sky blue with an intricate eyelet embroidery, a sash made from the same exact fabric tied around her waist into an adorably perfect bow at the back of it. A pair of darling, strappy white ballet flats adorned her tiny feet, and although Frank had put her into a soft, knitted white cardigan to help keep her warm against a sudden and unexpected chilly afternoon breeze that swept through the town, the child had sneakily shrugged herself out of it when she noticed he wasn’t paying attention. Noticing the dark, gloomy clouds that began to slowly but surely make their way over the neighborhood, you stood up from the table and walked over to the spot on the front lawn, right beside the porch, where she had discarded her cardigan.

Picking it up, you lightly dusted it off and made sure it was clean. You then called out to her, gently. “Hey.” You smiled as she stopped in her tracks mid-spin, looking over at you with curiosity. You beckoned her over with your hand. “Come here, sweet girl.”

She skipped over to you, and you instinctively lowered yourself to her eye level as you spoke to her.

“The sun is gone.” You pointed up towards the skies. “That means it’s time for you to put this on so you don’t get cold. Okay?”

She wrinkled her little nose, but agreed, “Okay.” She held her arms up and out to you, as if to tell you to put it on for her.

You helped her back into it, though you left it unbuttoned so as not to cover up her pretty dress. “There we go. Don’t take it off again, okay? At least not while we’re outside.” You noticed a slight look of mischief cross her features and playfully pointed your index finger at her. “I am being so serious, young lady. Promise me that you won’t take it off?”

“I won’t,” she swore. Though she spoke fairly clearly now, she still had hints of toddler pronunciation; she could enunciate several words but she was still learning to properly talk. “Promise I won’t take it off.”

You reached out, briefly touching her soft cheek. “That’s a good girl,” You murmured, letting your thumb sweet across her satin skin. Every single part of you longed for even more contact with her, you yearned with every fucking fiber in your entire being to take her into your arms and hold her close; however, there was a very fine line that was not to be crossed, much less when Bill and Frank were sitting just a few feet away. You gave her cheek a light, teasing pinch and finally found it in you to withdraw your hand away from her face.

She grinned at you and a deep, prominent dimple appeared in her left cheek. You’d first noticed it during your visit on her first birthday.

There had always been something new for you to notice during each visit; a new tooth, an additional inch to her height, the way her face was no longer as round and pudgy as it had been when she was an infant. This time around, it was her hair that had caught your attention. It fell in long, dark brown waves to just about the middle of her back.

Her voice broke into your train of thought. “Can I go play now?”

You nodded and rose to your feet. “Of course, sweet girl. Just be very careful, alright?”

“I will.” She bobbed her head up and down at you and then went right back to her twirling, letting out an adorable giggle at the way the skirt of her dress swayed along with her movement.

You made your way back over to the table and took your seat. Picking up your glass of red wine, you took a quick sip before glancing over at Frank and remarking, “Her hair’s gotten really long.” You took another sip and then set your glass down, abandoning it in favor of the white pearl that hung from the silver chain around your neck. Holding it gingerly in your hand, you thought back to the day Joel had given it to you a little over two years ago. Presenting you with your daughter’s birthstone to carry with you had to have been one of the most loving, incredible things that he’d ever done for you. It was your most prized and cherished possession and although he didn’t like you wearing it outside of the apartment, it’d been a year since the last time you had taken it off. Anyone who tried to jump you for it would get a blade lodged into their skull. “Has she had her first haircut yet?”

“Nope. She refuses to let me anywhere near her with a pair of shears. As soon as she sees them in my hand, she runs,” Frank explained. He offered you a small, fatigued smile. He’d briefly mentioned to you the night before he hadn’t been feeling all too well over the last few days, but he still insisted that you and Joel still make the trip to Lincoln for lunch. “She calls it her princess hair—she said she wants to grow it as long as Rapunzel’s.”

You hummed. “Long hair suits her,” You told him after a minute. “Doesn’t it, Joel?”

You were met with no response and turned to glance at Joel.

He sat beside you at the table, sipping silently on his glass of wine; he hadn’t seemed to have heard you, and for once, it wasn’t because the hearing in his right ear was failing him. Joel hadn’t heard you because he was too distracted. His eyes were fixed intently on the toddler, and even when you reached out and touched his arm in an attempt to get his attention, his gaze remained latched onto her. He looked on with a mixture of different, conflicting emotions—of them all, it was sadness that took center stage. Joel often tried to keep his own feelings under wraps, for your sake, more than anything. He was your partner and he was your protector, he was your shoulder to lean on and the glue that, despite the circumstances, held everything together somehow.

He kept it all from crumbling down. For you, always for you.

You appreciated Joel trying to hold strong for you, but you wished he wouldn’t, not when you knew he was hurting too—hurting over Sarah and hurting over the daughter that was right there in front of him, but whose life he was missing out on. She was growing quickly, changing so fucking much each and every time he saw her, and he could hardly stand that he wasn’t around to witness it. Glimpses of her and her life were all that you and Joel were given, and you know that killed him as much as it killed you.

“Gracie!” Bill said her name in a scolding tone. He’d been sitting in his chair with his back to her, but he knew exactly what she was up to; he had developed something of a sixth sense when it came to her. “You just had lunch, you’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t cut that out! You’d better come and sit your little butt down right now or it’s a timeout for you, missy!”

She stopped for a second, smirked at his back, and then continued to twirl around.

Joel snorted into his wine, amused by her rebelliousness.

“Honey, come on. Be good and listen to daddy.” Frank glanced tiredly over his shoulder. “You don’t want to make yourself dizzy, do you?”

Gracie stopped and let out a teeny, frustrated huff; just seconds later, a white butterfly garnered her attention and she took off across the front lawn, chasing after it.

“Jesus,” Joel muttered, shaking his head. He set his wine glass down on the table and leaned back into his chair. “Does she ever get tired? I’m exhausted just from watchin’ her run around.”

“She’s been so energetic lately,” Frank said. He picked up his fork and pushed his vegetables around on his plate; you’d noticed that he had hardly eaten any of his meal. “Sometimes we can hardly keep up with her. But the bright side of letting her run around is that when bedtime comes around, she’s just about all tuckered out. Isn’t she, Bill?”

Bill scoffed. “If we’re lucky. The kid’s like the damn Energizer Bunny.”

You giggled. Looking over at Gracie, you noticed that she was in one of the bushes and your smile faded slightly. “Oh, um, she’s—” You stopped and simply nodded your head over in her direction, worried that she would get into the roses and accidentally prick herself with a thorn.

Bill looked over his shoulder. He sighed, “She’s digging in the flowers again, Frank.”

“Oh Gracie, honey please don’t pick the flowers—”

But it was too late.

She stepped back from the bush, clutching a tiny handful of Frank’s beloved white begonias. She then ran over to her parents; she first handed a flower to Frank and then one to Bill, who, despite trying his best to keep a stern face, cracked the tiniest of smiles as he accepted it from her.

“It’s so hard to put her in time out when she does things like this,” Frank chuckled, shaking his head. He smoothed her hair back from her face, lovingly tucking it behind her ear. “You’re just the most innocent little troublemaker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Gracie gave him a tiny nod, and he let his hand drop from her hair as she turned around and walked around the table towards you. Falling into step beside your chair, she held up a flower for you.

Your entire body radiated with a pleasant warmth as you took it from her. Taking the side of her face into the palm of your hand, you leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’m going to keep this forever and ever.” And you would. You planned on pressing it into a book the moment you arrived back in the QZ.

She smiled at you and then she let her gaze flicker curiously over to Joel. You could see her debating it over in her mind—besides the polite little hello that Frank would push her to say whenever you two came over, Gracie rarely ever interacted with him. She wasn’t afraid of him, but even at the tender age of two, she could sense the man’s quiet and serious nature and she knew to keep her distance. It was something of an unspoken, mutual agreement between the two of them; Joel always kept his distance from her too.

After a minute, she finally plucked up some courage and squeezed past you. She went up to the side of Joel’s chair and placed her tiny hand on his bare forearm, giving it a gentle pat as if to call for his attention.

You could almost feel the way he momentarily froze, stiffening beneath her touch.

“Gracie, don’t—” Bill started to say, however Frank held a hand up to stop him.

“Wait, Bill,” he said, quietly. “Let her.”

“Here,” Gracie uttered softly, holding out the last begonia to him.

Joel’s heart had all but leapt up into his throat. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he lifted a hand and accepted it. When he spoke, he sounded almost breathless. “Thank you.”

“It’s pretty,” she told him, shyly nodding at the flower now in his hand.

“Very pretty,” he agreed. He paused briefly, then touched it to the tip of it to her nose. “Just like you.”

Gracie beamed at him.

Just like you and your momma, he wanted to tell her. Of course, he knew better than to say such a thing out loud in front of Bill and Frank.

“Gracie, honey, what do you say when someone says something nice to you?” Frank prompted her from across the table.

She looked at him, then bashfully turned back to Joel. “Thank you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and seconds later came the crashing sound of thunder.

Startled by the loud noise, Gracie let out a small yelp and found herself in between Joel’s legs, tugging desperately at his denim shirt. Before his mind and body could even make the connection, he picked her up and hoisted her into his lap and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, a small whimper escaping her.

Bill and Frank exchanged a look of complete shock with one another.

Even you watched on with your lips parted in absolute bewilderment.

You’d only ever seen her in his arms once—when she’d been a newborn.

“It’s alright darlin’,” Joel soothed her, lightly patting her back. “It’s nothin’ but a little bit of thunder. It’s tellin’ us that the rain is comin’ soon, and you know what that means?”

Reluctantly, Gracie pulled her face out of his neck and looked up at him with her dark brown eyes—the very same dark brown eyes she’d inherited from him. “What?”

“More flowers,” he whispered to her, giving her a small grin.

“Really?” she squeaked excitedly.

“Oh, speaking of the rain, here come those April showers.” Frank held out his hand, having felt the first drop. Before he could even utter the warning for everyone to move inside, it suddenly began to pour; the rain came down hard and fast, as if someone up in the clouds had turned on a garden hose. “Everyone in the house!”

Bill helped him out of his chair, slipping an arm around his back. You noticed him struggle alone to help Frank and quickly hurried around the table, taking his other arm, and the both of you helped him up the lawn towards the house.

Joel stood up with Gracie still in his arms; he hurried towards the house behind the rest of you, using his hand to shield her from the rain as best as he could manage, though she ended up getting soaked, just like everyone else.

Once inside, he set her down on her feet. Another round of thunder struck, rattling the walls of the house.

Gasping, Gracie threw her arms around Joel’s leg.

Bill raised an eyebrow, pushing his drenched hair away from his face. “I’ve never seen her get this close to you before.”

“She’s just spooked, that’s all.” Joel cleared his throat awkwardly and reached down, carefully peeling her off of him. He placed his hand on her back and gently nudged her towards him. “Go to daddy.”

“Well, that’s a nice lunch ruined,” Frank sighed heavily. “Gracie, let’s get you upstairs and changed into dry clothes.” He reached down to pick her up, but struggled lifting her into his arms, a problem that you had never seen him have before; a bizarre expression crossed his face and he turned to Bill. “Help me carry her upstairs to her room?”

Bill nodded, picking her up. “Come on, kiddo.”

Crestfallen, Frank watched him as he carried her up the staircase.

“Frank? Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask, placing a hand on his arm.

He nodded, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine. I think I just need some rest.” He noticed the skeptical expression on your face and before you could ask him again, he changed the subject. “You two are more than welcome to stay and wait for the storm to pass before heading out.”

Several hours later, and the torrential downpour continued on with no signs of stopping any time soon.

“We’ll be fine,” You assured Frank as you began looking in your pack for your windbreaker. You found it in the top zipper, and pulled it out; although it would hardly do anything to shield you from the cold and heavy rainfall, it would have to do. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been out and about in a storm like this.”

“Nonsense,” he said, taking the jacket out of your hands. After taking a long nap earlier that evening, he appeared to be in better spirits. He still appeared tired, but he seemed to be moving around with more ease, an indication that he had gained a bit of his strength back. “You two can spend the night down here in the guest bedroom.”

“That’s very kind, Frank. But Bill wouldn’t like that.”

“I already talked him into it. He’s not too happy, but as usual, he’ll get over it.” Frank saw you about to protest and he held up a hand. “Can you just make this easy and graciously accept the offer please?”

You chuckled. You had known him for a few years now and you knew the man was as stubborn as stubborn could be. “Alright, alright. We’ll stay the night.”

“Good.” Frank smiled and handed you your jacket back. “The guest bedroom is down the hall, second door on the left. Make yourselves right at home. If you need anything, just let me know, alright?”

Joel nodded, taking your hand in his. “We appreciate this a whole lot, Frank. Thank you.”

“Of course. You two get some sleep, alright?” He bid the two of you a final goodnight before disappearing upstairs.

With your hand still in his, Joel led the way down the hallway towards the bedroom. He opened the door and flipped on the lights; the room was on the smaller side, but it was still decently spacious, at least for you it was, especially when compared it to the tiny bedroom you and Joel shared with Tess in the QZ. Frank had furnished it with gorgeous antique furniture that you were almost certain he’d refurbished on his own. What really caught your eye, however, was the bed in the middle of the room; it was a large, queen sized bed decorated with a soft, red and gold duvet and matching pillows.

“I’m so used to that old, ripped mattress we have back at home,” You remarked with a small laugh.

Joel squeezed your hand. He was thrilled to have the chance to sleep in such a comfortable looking bed, but more importantly, he found a sense of relief that for the first time in a long time, you would be able to lay in clean sheets and rest your head on a soft pillow. “Looks like we’ll both be gettin’ a good night’s sleep for once.”

Grinning, you tilted your head up towards his, your lips meeting his in a kiss. “Guess being stormed in has its perks,” You murmured against his mouth. You dropped his hand and stepped away from him, pulling your pack off your shoulders and placing it onto the bed. Unzipping it at the top, you opened it up and started rummaging around inside of it, hoping that you had a spare t-shirt that you could sleep in. As Joel started doing the same, you couldn’t help but remark, “Gracie seems to have taken a sudden liking to you.”

He quickly shook his head. “I don’t think so—”

“Joel, she gave you a flower.”

“She gave everyone a flower,” he reminded you. “Not just me.”

“What about the way she just jumped into your arms?”

He scoffed. “The thunder startled her and I was sitting closest to her. She would have jumped into the fuckin’ Boogeyman’s arms if he had been closest to her.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculousness. “Okay, what about the fact that she wanted to sit next to you at the dinner table tonight? Or how she decided to introduce you to all of her dolls one by one?”

Joel paused from digging into his pack, his jaw clenching slightly as he mulled over his thoughts in hid mind. “Do you think Gracie senses somethin’ about me?” he asked you quietly after a minute or two of silence.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Why are you asking me that? Do you think she senses something about you?”

“I’d sure as hell hope not. Wouldn’t make Bill and Frank too happy. In fact, it would move me even higher up Bill’s shit list. I can tell that he wasn’t all too happy with the way she was clingin’ to me earlier.” Joel sighed and finally looked up, turning to you. “She looks so much like us, you know. The older she gets, the more I can actually see it. She’s equal parts you, equal parts me. Makes me worry about her noticin’ it someday.”

“Joel, she’s a toddler for Christ’s sake. It’ll be years before that could even happen. And sure she looks a lot like us now, but as children get older their features start to change and—” You stopped, realizing Joel had stopped listening to you.

His eyes were fixed on something over your shoulder, his lips parted slightly.

“Joel, what are you—?” You turned around.

Gracie stood there at the door of the bedroom, which the two of you had left open. She was barefoot, wearing a light pink nightdress; she held her hands behind her back as she simply looked at you and Joel.

“Gracie? Sweetheart, what are you doing out of bed? How on earth did you get down here all by yourself?” Your heart squeezed in your chest when you realized that she could have easily fallen down the stairs and gotten hurt.

“Think she’s got somethin’ there, baby,” Joel noticed. He walked over to her and lowered himself down to one knee in front of her. Although he was sure Bill wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave one of his guns or other weapons lying around unsecured, part of him couldn’t help but worry about what she had in her hands. He held out his hand. “Can I see what you’ve got there, little darlin’?”

She nodded, almost eagerly, and showed him the object she’d been holding behind her back—a children’s book.

You let out a small breath of relief. “Oh thank god.”

Joel took it from her. “Goodnight, Moon,” he read the cover out loud, feeling his heart sink deep into the pits of his stomach. Looking over his shoulder at you, he let out a sharp exhale, as if some unseen force had just knocked all the wind out of his lungs.

Concerned, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Joel? Are you okay?”

Though clearly he wasn’t, he nodded and turned back to Gracie.

“Read me the story?” she asked him shyly, shuffling from foot to foot.

“Frank already read her a bedtime story,” You explained to him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “He said he only allows her one a night.”

“Well, that’s a stupid fuckin’ rule,” Joel muttered, though he had been loud enough for you to hear.

“Joel!” You snapped, swatting at him with your other hand. “Don’t say that word in front of her!”

Joel almost laughed. “She’s two and a half years old.”

“Yeah, and probably parrot at this age,” You pointed out. “Please, just mind your mouth around her? We don’t need her picking up your rich vocabulary.”

“Bedtime story? Please?” Gracie chirped hopefully, interrupting the two of you.

Joel let out a small scoff. “You expect me to say no to that sweet little face? Not a chance.” He turned back to her. “Alright, I’ll read it to you. But you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep right after. Promise?”

She nodded excitedly. “Promise!”

Your stomach churned. “Joel, are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t want Bill and Frank getting upset with us—”

“It’s just a bedtime story,” he said. Holding the book in one hand, he rose to his feet and then scooped her up into his arms. He walked out of the bedroom and started up the staircase with you following close behind. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, he asked, “Which one’s hers?”

You hesitated before answering, “Second door on the right. Joel, I’m not sure about this.”

“You act like we’re committin’ a fuckin’ crime.”

“First of all stop cursing around her and secondly, we may as well be committing a crime!” You hissed, lowering your voice. “I don’t want to break any boundaries. If Bill gets pissed enough, he could potentially never let us see her again!”

Joel shook his head. “Baby, for the last time, it’s just a fuck—it’s just bedtime story,” he quickly caught himself before another curse word could escape him. “Can you just relax? We ain’t doin’ anythin’ wrong.”

You’d never seen this side of Joel before. Usually, it was him trying to be the voice of reason, it had always been Joel telling you to use your common sense and make the right decisions, and here he was, being so stupidly stubborn.

He opened the door to Gracie’s bedroom and flipped on the lights. It looked like any ordinary little girl’s bedroom—a canopy bed, matching white furniture, a corner strewn with all kinds of toys and a bookshelf packed to the brim with fairytales in another. What surprised you was how the plain white walls had been brought to life with hand painted, large scale wildflowers that surely had to have been done by Frank.

“Daddy’s flowers,” she said, pointing her finger.

“He paints the prettiest flowers, doesn’t he?” You prompted her.

She nodded her head. “Mhm.”

“C’mon.” Joel walked over towards her bed, perching her on his hip as he reached out with his free hand to pull her covers back; he then gingerly laid her down and pulled them up to her chest, tucking her in. “You warm enough, babygirl?”

Gracie nodded. “Yes.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Teddy!”

“Teddy?” Confused, he furrowed an eyebrow and then glanced down at the stuffed brown teddy bear beside his boot. “Oh, Teddy. How did he get down here, darlin’? He’s supposed to be up here with you.” He picked the bear up, placing it right beside her. “That’s better.”

Anxiously, you dropped down into the white wicker chair beside her bed as Joel kneeled on the opposite side. His dark eyes glazed over the book in his hand, and even from where you sat, you could see the sadness flash across his face, subtle, but detectable. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he opened it and thumbed to the first page. Clearing his throat, he began reading to her. “In the great green room, there was a telephone. And a red balloon. And a picture of a cow jumpin’ over the moon…”

Gracie lingered on every word, her big doe eyes wide with fascination in the most endearing way.

You finally managed to relax and leaned back into the chair, watching the scene before you with a delicate smile on your face. Your hand instinctively went to your necklace, and you rolled the pearl between your thumb and your index finger as you drank in the sight of Joel reading to your daughter.

His daughter.

“Goodnight moon, goodnight cow jumpin’ over the moon…”

Gracie yawned and began blinking furiously.

You could tell she was trying her hardest to stay awake to the very end, but Joel’s deep voice was effortlessly lulling her to sleep.

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.” By the time Joel read the last sentence, her eyes had fluttered closed.

“And she’s out.” You lowered your voice so you wouldn’t wake her.

Joel closed the book and placed it on her nightstand. He stared at her and reached out, lightly touching his index finger to her cheek. “If you would’ve asked me two and a half years ago if I thought I’d be tuckin’ her into bed and readin’ her a bedtime story someday, I’d say you’d lost your damn fuckin’ mind.”

You laughed softly and nodded. “Oh, I know.”

“You think she’s happy here?”

Your smile faded slightly. “Of course she’s happy here. Wearing pretty dresses, picking flowers, chasing butterflies across the front yard...”

“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question,” Joel muttered, rising to his feet.

You stood up from the chair and walked over to him. “Bill and Frank are doing a great job at raising her under the circumstances. She’s happy, she’s healthy—and they love her so much, Joel.”

“Too bad she’ll never know that we loved her first,” he murmured.

“We did love her first.” You reached for one of his hands and took it in your own, lacing your fingers together with his. “But this is the way things have to be and we both know that.”

Joel let out a hesitant sigh. “That book she brought me to read to her,” he started to say, his voice breaking slightly, “That book was the first book that I ever read to Sarah when she was a little girl.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, your heart aching for him. “Joel...” You stopped and swallowed the thick, emotional lump that had risen in your throat. You said nothing else and reached up with your opposite hand, cradling his cheek in your palm.

“She was two years old, just like Gracie is now.” His voice wavered again and it was taking every ounce of strength he had inside of him not to crumble in front of you. He placed his hand over yours on his face. “You know that dimple in her left cheek?”

You simply nodded.

“Sarah had that exact same dimple,” Joel whispered. “Same side, same place too. And the way Gracie acts, she reminds me so much of her when she was that age. The way she smiles, the way she giggles, it all reminds me of Sarah.”

It almost shocked you, the way Joel was mentioning Sarah—the last time he had talked about her was that night in the apartment almost three years ago, when you had brought her up during an argument and it had only added fuel to the fire. You remembered being heavily pregnant with Gracie then, and Joel had confessed that he would probably never be ready to talk to you about the daughter that he’d lost. To hear him even utter her name to you again came completely out of left field.

“Maybe your sweet little butterfly sent you something to remember her by,” You told him, nodding over at the sleeping child.

Joel closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his head further into the palm of your hand. After a while, he finally opened them again and broke the silence. “Do you remember the day we left her here?”

“How can I not? It was hardest day of my entire fucking life.”

“You said that comin’ to see her, it wouldn’t be enough. That it would never be enough.” He paused, remembering, “I said it would never be enough for me either.”

“And?”

“We were right. This ain’t enough,” he admitted. “And every time that we leave here without her, it hurts just as much as it did on day one.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” You blinked back the warm tears that had sprung to your eyes.

After spending a while watching Gracie as she slept, you and Joel decided it was time to head downstairs back to the guest bedroom to try and get some rest. Each of you took a turn to kiss her goodnight before shutting off the lights and quietly slipping out of her bedroom, closing the door behind you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #fic: tdtrt

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violainebriat · 1 month

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It's a bit weird typing out a full post here on tumblr. I used to be one of these artists that mostly focused on posting only images, the least amount of opinions/thoughts I could share, the better. Today, the art world online feels weird, not only because of AI, but also the algorithms on every platform and the general way our craft is getting replaced for close to 0 dollars. This website was a huge instrument in kickstarting my career as a professional artist, it was an inspiring place were artists shared their art and where we could make friends with anyone in the world, in any industries. It was pretty much the place that paved the way as a social media website outside of Facebook, where you could search art through tags etc. Anyhow, Tumblr still has a place in my heart even if all artists moved away from it after the infamous nsfw ban (mostly to Instagram and twitter). And now we're all playing a game of whack-a-mole trying to figure out if the social media platform we're using is going to sell their user content to AI / deep learning (looking at you reddit, going into stocks). On the Tumblr side, Matt Mullenweg's interviews and thoughts on the platform shows he's down to use AI, and I guess it could help create posts faster but then again, you have to click through multiple menus to protect your art (and writing) from being scraped. It's really kind of sad to have to be on the defensive with posting art/writing online. It doesn't even reflect my personal philosophy on sharing content. I've always been a bit of a "punk" thinking if people want to bootleg my work, it's like free advertisement and a testament to people liking what I created, so I've never really watermarked anything and posted fairly high-res version of my work. I don't even think my art is big enough to warrant the defensiveness of glazing/nightshading it, but the thought of it going through a program to be grinded into a data mush to be only excreted out as the ghost of its former self is honestly sort of deadening.

Finally, the most defeating trend is the quantity of nonsense and low-quality content that's being fed to the internet, made a million times easier with the use of AI. I truly feel like we're living what Neil Postman saw happening over 40 years ago in "amusing ourselves to death"(the brightness of this man's mind is still unrivaled in my eyes).

I guess this is my big rant to tell y'all now I'm gonna be posting crunchy art because Nightshade and Glaze basically make your crispy art look like a low-res JPEG, and I feel like an idiot for doing it but I'm considering it an act of low effort resistance against data scraping. If I can help "poison" data scrapping by wasting 5 minutes of my life to spit out a crunchy jpeg before posting, listen, it's not such a bad price to pay. Anyhow check out my new sticker coming to my secret shop really soon, and how he looks before and after getting glazed haha....

#ai protection #my art #violaine briat

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jerreeeeeee · 9 days

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Balance fic recs

some of my favorite balance fics. various ages, popularities, and lengths. i’ve been wanting to do a rec list for a while!

caramel by nevereverever

The first time Taako is left alone, it isn't pretty. But their lives are stuck in a loop and people come back and die again and again and he wonders if there will ever be a time when he doesn't have to fear being left alone.

2.7k, Taako & Lup Lup dies one cycle and then, years later, she dies again. But she always comes back. Hurt/comfort of the best kind.

Warmth by noxic

"It was a well-known fact among the residents of the Starblaster that Lup, Barry, and Taako slept in the same bed more often than not. It was one of those things that they just did without really talking about it."

2.1k, Barry & Lup & Taako The BLT fic of all time. Quality platonic adult sleepovers.

Taako the Matchmaker by @fantasysamsclub

In which Taako tries to set up his sister. Events take place during Stolen Century.

11.1k, Blupjeans & Taako Taako tries to set up blupjeans. Miscommunication ensues. Very sweet and funny.

red fishing line by @anistarrose

A routine performance of Sizzle it Up goes nightmarishly wrong, and at Lup’s bedside, Taako feels helpless. And when a red-robed guest appears before him, Taako doesn’t know how or what to feel at all.

3k, Barry & Lup & Taako Also the BLT fic of all time. Excellent subtle Taako characterization, and my favorite depiction of the familiarity-but-not of being voidfished. Warning for major character death.

Sunny-Side Up by @barry-j-blupjeans

And the world? The world loved Taako. For once in his gods-damned life, people loved him. They didn’t care about all the flaws, they didn’t care where he came from or who he was before. They loved his food and they loved him. No one would ever quite be at Taako’s level and that was something he thrived on. There would never be anyone who could measure up. Taako deserved this happiness. He worked for it. He wasted his fucking life away for it.

5.7k, Taako A wonderful character study, revolving around the role food plays in Taako's life. Fairly minor but impactful characters like Sazed and Taako's aunt are utilized in a very meaningful way. So well-written and warm. Warning for brief suicidal ideation.

On the Deck of the Starblaster by @papergardener

“What the… what are you all doing? We have work to do!” It’s a justified reaction, Lucretia thinks, to finding your entire crew literally lazing about on deck not an hour into this new cycle. “This one's on me,” Taako says. “It’s a new trend I like to call: taking a fucking break.” Cycle Nintey-Five. Everyone’s maybe not doing so good and could use a little warmth.

6.5k, Lucretia & Taako Near the end of the century, Lucretia is feeling rough. Taako pulls her out of her funk and initiates a much needed rest. Fantastic characterization, of Lucretia as a whole, and the loyal, warm side of Taako. Warning for mentions of a suicide attempt and suicidal ideation.

leaving, as an injustice by @anistarrose

When Mavis is eight, she starts finding her Dad asleep on the couch in the morning. Sometimes, he’s even all the way out on their tiny patio, with his head slumped onto a pillow atop the chess table, and bags beneath his eyes. In one of their following games, he tells her about tactical retreats.

4.7k, Mavis & Merle A study of Mavis and her relationship to Merle. Incredibly insightful into criminally underrated characters. Excellent Merle characterization.

Permission by vaguenotion

She’d been doing this on and off for the last hour, as if daring the men to catch up to them. Daring them to fight her. Every time seemed like a final stand. Here is where I will meet them, her shoulders said, hiked up around her ears. Here is where I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done. But then Taako would grab her hand, and she would turn and see the bruising on his throat, the blood drying on his brow, the tear in his shirt. And she would grip his hand in hers and together they would keep running.

12.6k, Taako & Lup My favorite depiction of the twins as children, both in character and realistic. Beautifully atmospheric, with so many small details that make the setting feel so real. Warning for assault and harm to children.

Come Hell or High Water by @nillial

“Taako,” Hurley asks, “where’s your magic umbrella?” Taako looks behind him. He had tossed the Umbrastaff in the path of a neighboring vehicle, which was beginning to catch up to them. He sees them now, far in the distance, and he sees his Umbrastaff, too, lying dangerously close to its wheels. As if on cue, he watches the tires crush it to pieces. “Whoops,” he says. - Lup is trapped. And then she isn’t. --- In which Taako breaks his umbrella during the Petals to the Metal race, unknowingly freeing Lup, who is almost immediately captured by Kravitz. After becoming a member of the Raven Queen's retinue with Kravitz as her trainer, she has two missions: 1) find her family, and 2) ruin Kravitz's afterlife. A story about enemies becoming friends and lost families finding their way back to one another.

197k (currently), Lup & Kravitz Incredible characterization. I love the way Lup is written. Hilarious shenanigans, sweet friendship-building, and terribly sad sometimes, because it dives deep into the reality of Lup existing in a world that's forgotten her.

Very cold water on a very hot day by @keplercryptids

Sometimes a family is a nerd who can't swim and the crunchy-haired watersport inventor who teaches him how. Surfer lingo required.

3.1k, Barry & Taako Deep dive into the beach year. Excellently in character, well-written dialogue, and a beautiful depiction of their growing friendship.

Children of Atlas by @papergardener

They’ve survived the apocalypse and now as far as they know, they’re the only ones left. Perhaps it was inevitable that they’d consider… repopulation. Lucretia writes up a weekly schedule to try and address that. Absolutely no one is happy with this.

76k (currently), IPRE crew The premise for this one is incredibly offputting, but I'm so glad I gave it a chance. The characterization and quality of writing is absolutely wonderful. I also love the attention to detail of the realistic difficulty of just surviving. Fantastically atmospheric, this fic dives deep into the uncertainty and fear of the first cycle, when the crew are all strangers, and the love that turns them into a family. Warning for extensive discussion of sexual assault.

Emissary Davenport by DragonWrites

A series of stories where Captain Davenport is secretly an emissary of Garl Glittergold, Gnomish god of pranks. And when you're a serious-minded captain on a mission to save all of reality, having a cheerful trickster god as your unexpected patron can get a little strange...

300k, Davenport A series of four works set in an AU where Davenport is an emissary to the leader of the gnomish pantheon. My absolute favorite depiction of Davenport, ever. The first three works are explorations of Davenport as a character and the relationships between people and gods in a DnD world. The last, Lost Gods, is the best fanfiction I've ever read. I can't express how good it is. The attention to detail among myriad plot threads, the building of themes, the characterization across just about every single character in Balance, all come together to create 223k words of a genuine masterpiece.

#apparently theres some kind of comment thing going on and people were making fic rec lists so i wanted to throw my hat in the ring #bc a few of these are very underrated #yes theyre all gen. i don't care for shipping. sorry #mine #taz #taz balance #the adventure zone #taz: b #taz fanfic #taz balance fic #fic rec

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exhaslo · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 4- Miguel x reader (Public Sex)

Sometimes you questioned what you did to deserve a loving boyfriend like Miguel. He was everything you ever dreamed of and more. You met by chance. You worked at a local coffee shop right across from Alchemax, which is where he worked. He stopped in once in a blue moon at first, but when you kept trying to get to know him, he became your regular. He only appeared when you were working and only wanted to have his order taken by you.

You thought it only happened in movies, but it was real. Eventually, you grew the courage to ask him out and he said yes. One thing led to the next and you and Miguel had officially been dating for about six months now. Miguel was perfect. Although, you did get the feeling like he wasn't telling you something. You tried to brush the thought away, but every time you saw Spiderman...You wondered...His built, he voice; it all seemed like Miguel.

"And there I go daydreaming again. Shit, I grabbed the caramel instead of chocolate. Shit." You cussed under your breathe as you tried to return to work.

It was, yet, another busy day at your job. Lunch had just begun and everyone was trying to cram in a snack or a drink. Hurrying to remake the drink you had messed up on, you heard a familiar voice clear his throat. Your lips curled into a smile as you turned around and saw Miguel at the counter. He stared at you with such loving eyes.

As you finished the drink you were making, you began to work on Miguel's. You added an extra shot of espresso, knowing how tired the man can get after work. The amount of dates the two of you went on that had Miguel nearly falling from exhaustion were too many to count. His job was straining. You wished you could help him more than just an extra shot. Miguel always said that having you by his side was enough. Although, you could feel his pent up stress every time the two of you had sex.

The man had stamina! He always held back, trying his best to be gentle with you, but you knew he wanted to go rougher. To let out his stress. You just had no idea how to approach him on the subject.

"You look tired already. They got you working other's shit?" Miguel's hand grazed yours, wishing to hold it, "You should take a nap."

"Wish I could, but no one else will do the job," He muttered lowly.

"(Y/N)! We got a big order!" Your coworker yelled out.

Miguel tighten his grip on your hand for just a moment. He did not want to let you go just yet. It brought a smile to your face. Letting him know that you were to text him later, you returned to work.

Miguel stayed for a bit longer, watching you slave away to the swarm of customers. You did not deserve the treatment some of these assholes gave you. You deserved better. Miguel wanted to take you away from here. He had the money to pay for your expenses. He had the money for you to live comfortably at his place. He just felt like he was going to rush you if he made the suggestion. Exhaling lowly, Miguel took one last look of you before leaving the coffee shop.

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

You let out a stiffing yawn as your finally clocked out for the day. Unfortunally, you had to pack in a few extra hours due to someone not showing up. It was later than you were comfortable with. The sun was already setting and Miguel had went home for the day. Normally, he would walk with you if you ever had a late shift, but you hated to bother him so much. You worried that he might get tired of you asking him repeatedly. Your cheeks huffed out, hating the thought.

"What to make for dinner?" You mutter as you walked home.

It was a fairly quiet night. A little too quiet. Despite living in the upper side of Nueva York, it still felt unsafe sometimes. You kept telling yourself that it could always be worse. You could be in the lower city. Hurrying across the street, you let out a soft sigh of relief as you joined a small crowd. Some streets were busier than others. It made you feel safe.

"You look lonely, darling. Need someone to keep you company?"

Aaaaaand there it was. The occasional drunk or pervert. Keeping your head held high, you ignored the man. Hearing another voice, you tensed as a different man now approached you. What happened to the crowd you were just in? You had begun to shake as another man joined in. Your hands slowly reached into your purse for your pepper spray. Miguel had convinced you to get something to protect yourself. You never thought you'd had to use it though.

"What are you-" Right as one of the men went to grab your hand, you heard a yelp.

Your body flinched as the other two tried to run away. All you saw was webbing fire towards their backs, dragging them past you. It was safe now. Spiderman was here. If only you could tell that to your racing heart. It was hard to breathe. Spiderman stood before you, wrapping his arms around your body. Your breathing hitched as you started to cry.

"It's okay now, mija (darling). Just breathe," He whispered. He sounded so much like Miguel. "Take deep breathes, no one is going to hurt you."

"M-Miguel," You sobbed quietly.

Your ears perked up as you heard Spiderman sigh. Feeling yourself being pulled into the alley, you tensed up once more. Spiderman's hand cupped your cheek, wiping your tears away as his mask disappeared. There he was. Your loving boyfriend. Miguel's eyes stared directly into yours as he pulled you in for another hug. You returned the gesture, crying into his chest. After you calmed down, you huffed your cheeks out towards Miguel.

"I knew you were hiding something!"

"This isn't something I can easily tell anyone," Miguel told you, stroking your cheek once more.

"So this is another reason why you're so tired," Leaning your head against the palm of his hand, you noticed his red eyes sparkle brighter than normal, "You know...I think I need to properly reward my savior."

"(Y/n), you know I'll always be here for you," Miguel whispered, his hands already against your ass, "But...I think I like the idea of a reward."

"Mhm, why don't we-"

Miguel interrupted you by abruptly slamming his lips against yours. His hands squeezed your ass once more before lifting you against the wall. Your eyes widen, almost wanting to pop out of your head, as you tried to squeeze a word out. Miguel wasn't seriously planning on having sex right here and right now?! You guys were in an alleyway of a busy street! People were passing by! Anyone could just turn their head and see you and him fucking.

"Mi-"

"¿Oh? ¿Ya estás mojado porque te besé aquí? Qué tan sucio. (Oh? You're already wet from me kissing you here? How dirty.)" He said with a smug grin on his face. Your face burned red,

"S-Says the one who-"

Miguel stole another kiss from you, wanting to relish in the moment of your embarrassment. He bulge rutting against your soaked fabric under your skirt. You could deny it all you want, but the thought of someone catching you having sex with Spiderman was exciting. Miguel was still being careful though. If anyone were to see the two of you, he did not want them to see your beautiful body. He was going to tease you through your clothes as much as possible.

Miguel pressed his hips against yours, keeping you up against the wall. He brought his hands up to your shirt, unbuttoning your uniform. You wanted to protest, but you were covering your own mouth from your moans. As Miguel worked on your top, his lower half was grinding against you roughly. You could feel your body burn, wanting himto fuck you already.

"So beautiful," Miguel's pupils were focused sololy on your body.

He cut your bra down the middle, savoring the way your breasts poked out. You stiffed another moan as Miguel started to suck on one of your breasts. His fangs grazing your nipple ever so slightly. All of this friction and toying with was making your mind hazy. You were unable to suppress your moans as you reached your high.

Miguel licked his lips, groaning as your panties soaked his suit. He freed his cock, needing to be inside you. He released your abused nipple, attacking your neck as he slid your panties to the side. The hickeys he was going to leave on you. Making sure that you knew who you belonged too. A soft groan escaped his lips as he rubbed his cock against your wet cunt.

"M-Mig," You breathed out, "Y-You don't have to hold back, b-but maybe not here?" You tried to reason with him once more.

Miguel's breathing grew heavy as he tuned you out. All he heard was permission to let loose. Pressing the tip of his cock into your folds, Miguel inhaled at the sounds of your moans. Your gummy walls sucking him in faster than he was giving you. You always knew how to trest him right. How to make him feel good.

"Careful, mija. Someone will hear you," Miguel said before thrusting into you.

Once more, you tried to cover your mouth, but it was futile. Miguel was thrusting into you roughly. As if he couldn't get enough. As if it wasn't enough. Miguel told you to bite his shoulder, to which you did. He held your ass up as he gave you another good slap of his dick.

You shuddered as you felt another orgasm about to break you. Anyone could just look down the alley and see the two of you fucking. See that Spiderman was givinf you his cock and no one else. The thought brought you to your orgasm. Miguel was your perfect boyfriend. Your perfect superhero.

"Look at you, don't care if anyone hears or sees us, huh?"

Miguel cussed lowly as you gushed around him. That beautiful white ring that covered his cock. Now to return the favor. Holding your head, Miguel pressed you against the wall, rutting deeper into you. He moaned in your ear as he coated your walls white. Miguel let you catch your breathe, before swinging up to the top of the building.

"We're not done yet, mija. I want to let the whole city know that you belong to me. Make sure no one tries to touch you again,"

You whimpered lowly as he had you lean against the building. The view of the city before you as Miguel entered your throbbing hole once you.

"I'll take good care of you from now on." Miguel kissed the top of your head before giving you another charade of thrusts. You mewled in response, staring down at the apartment windows,

"Migueeeeeeel!"

Needless to say, you didn't go back to work the next day. Miguel made sure of that.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #kinktober #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader

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delululand · 6 months

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txt ideal type (and what are they like in a relationship?)

don't take it too seriously, these are just my observations based on analysis of their words, interviews and behavior in general

p.s. i lived in Korea for a few months and it gave me some impressions too

soobin

he often said that he like cute type of beauty and he don’t like too sexy type like yeonjun hahaha

and even if it’s not 100% true, i think he really prefer more cute than sexy girl kind of innocent vibe, aegyo and all like that, but more sociable than he

he natural shy, introvert and doesn't look like someone who would be active in relationships? he himself said that he doesn’t like it when he has to choose or decide something, so I think he would like a sweet, but despite this, a girl who can be active and take initiative? oh guys i’m sorry I just immediately imagine that type of girls in Korea, they look veeery very cute, but they rule their boyfriends with an iron hand hahaha not like a bad way but their boys listen to them well

overall he seems like someone who is easy to get along with but not so easy to get close to? like yeah, he'll be nice, but you won't be best friends right away. so I really see him in the friends-lovers trope, maybe even after a few years

yeonjun

oh that guy it’s opposite

I think he would, on the contrary, like a very bright, noticeable, socially active girl with sexy vibe

he’s himself very sociable and sometimes he can be a natural flirt? like he doesn't do it intentionally, but he literally communicates this way so I think he would like a girl who could accept it? I was in such a relationship and I really see him in something similar, like he doesn’t have the goal of offending or hurting his girlfriend with his behavior, but this happens every time and there are only two options, he’ll date a girl who will don't be jealous or it will hurt them both

however, he is very gentle in relationships, very caring and I think he would really do a lot for his partner

I would say he is one of the most caring members, he is always worried about their health, even that situation in one of the to do episodes when Kai fell from laughing from his chair and while everyone was laughing, yeonjun was the only one who stood up and holding kay’s head helping him rise up from the floor with the words “hey your head, head, be careful. everything is fine?"

beomgyu

ohhh guys i know he often has a reputation as a clown, but behind this he actually hides a lot

firstly we know that he is an introvert and all the members said that he usually sits at home alone and is not very active outside of filming and even in last live he said how much he likes be home and hate go outside

secondly, if you pay attention to how he seriously talks about relationships, about love, about partnership it’s always 🥺😭 boy is sooo soft and gentle plus how he treats taehyung…

this may sound obvious, but I think he would like a gentle, caring girl who would not let him doubt himself and their relationship

for him, it’s quite difficult for me to single out a specific type of girl or something like that, he would like a fairly ordinary (???) girl like not too sexy, not too cute, just someone with whom he had a real understanding, whom he could trust and confide

I thought for a long time whether have i including nsfw things and how you can see it’s not there, but I CAN’T be silent how much he has dirty mind pervert gamer boyfriend vibe (and THAT photo with anitta….)

so I think one of the important things in a relationship for him would be sex and matching with his partner in this question? because I'm sure he would like to try a lot...

taehyun

this guy has two distinct sides

sometimes he is super sweet, cute, he lets beomgyu do literally everything to him and can show affection himself

and sometimes he's very serious and collected, like he keeps everything under control and all that. he has a very manly vibe at this moment like with what voice and face he usually says 아빠 왔다 (daddy came) and even this phrase itself…. (I also study psychology and we could go over mean this phrase, but today we won’t)

I think in real life the second side is more inherent to him, but with close people, including in relationships, he is more open, so the first side appears more often

he didn't talk much about his preferences in girls, but he talks pretty serious about relationships in general so I think he’s not type to like one-night stands. I think he's a very reliable guy in a relationship, he's responsible I think he's the kind of guy who seems pretty cold and reserved in public but super cute when you're only together

in one of the old videos, all the guys except him answered that they would ask to go out their crash, can showing affection and say "i love you”, but he said “i’m just a coward, not a loser” and yes, it’s all what you have to know hahaha

idk is this still relevant for him, but it may well be, so I think that he would also be comfortable with a relationship that would grow from friendship so that he doesn’t have to confess first and everything happens naturally

huening kai

i don’t know he’s just so cute, romantic and gentle

he has mentioned more than once that he likes girls with short hair and because of this I’m a little vague about the image of a girl he would like i don’t know why, for me his ideal type is pretty obvious in character, but not in appearance

he is literally the king of untouchable among all the group members, even soobin said that it was very difficult to make friends with him and he literally overpowered him for several months until kai let him closer to him

soobin also mentioned that from time to time he tried to introduce him to his friends and other people, but Kai did not make friends with any of them. we can’t know why exactly this is happening, perhaps they were not interesting to him, perhaps he is embarrassed to communicate with strangers, perhaps he has high standards for friendship and many other reasons, but we can draw one conclusion, it is really difficult to get close to him

I think he would have liked a girl who was a little more persistent? not intrusive, but one that can be okay with the fact that he won’t open quickly

It's also known that he has some issues with accepting his appearance and would benefit from someone who knows how to support, praise at the right time and generally be gentle with him, this guy is literally the softest marshmallow pls love him😭

p.s. I would also be very interested to hear your opinion on this matter, maybe you have something to add?

#txt #txt soobin #txt yeonjun #txt taehyun #txt beomgyu #txt huening kai #txt hard hours #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt smut #txt imagines #txt hard thoughts #txt kai #txt reactions #txt fanfic #txt ff #txt astrology #txt thoughts

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away-ward · 16 days

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i cannot for the life of me make a decision about this, so do you have any headcanons on opinions on what banks would've been like if she had gone to high school ?? what tropes or clichés she would've been closest to embodying ?? because we know em was a nerd, that winter struggled for the obvious reasons but ultimately was fine in hs and fairly normal, rika was decently popular but far from the cheerleader level... but banks, i can't place what she would've been like if she'd gone to high school. we know she's very smart, but i can't see her as someone holed up in a library. then, we can also probably deduce that if she had gone to high school, damon would've been crazy protective but i still can't really make a set decision on much else regarding how banks' storyline/personality would've gone if she did indeed attend Thunder Bay prep or some other high school, minus these small details.

i do think she & emory would've got on like a house on fire if she attended TBP as they would've been in the same grade and probably had similar opinions on high school hierarchy and the horsemen and general thunder bay weirdness and extravagancy. they would've dissed people so thoroughly and easily with their quips and banter, for sure.

Ohh I have thought about this.

It can go so many ways, because as same with Emory, the debate is "was she naturally someone different and the circumstances made her this way? Or is it that she survived the circumstances because this is who she is naturally?"

Did Banks do so well in Gabriel's house because that's who she is, or did being in that house make her that way. In Hideaway, she mentions that she never cut her long hair because it was the last part of "Nikova." Additionally, her struggle with Damon is wanting to be her own person and to experience things other teenagers - normal teenagers - experience. But if she were a normal teenager, would she still value those experiences, or would they be mundane and expected?

I chose to think High School AU Banks would fall somewhere in the middle. She'd still be a bit of a tom-boy, and a bit of a rebel. In my AUs, she still lives with Lucinda, but Damon wants her close, so Gabriel pays for her to attend TBP. She's smart, but not without effort. She's not afraid to get involved throw down if she sees something she doesn't like. She's careful, though, and never throws the first punch, so she can always claim self-defense. It's helpful that she's a bit of a sarcastic smart ass and naturally skilled at goading people.

In school, she'd appear to be generally nonchalant about stuff, but she actually has a lot of opinions. It comes as a surprise to the teachers, who were not expecting Damon Torrance's younger sister to be so... outspoken. And argumentative.

Having a bit more freedom, and hopefully a healthy relationship with her brother, she’d probably be known for fighting with Damon in the halls over how protective he is. Like, he can’t even let her project partner talk to her without going all big brother on her.

Seriously, get a life, dude. Maybe if you had as much confidence talking to your little dancer friend as you do telling me what to do, you’d actually have a girlfriend. Newsflash, bro, there are certain things I can’t and won’t do for you.

I don’t see her wanting to participate in any extracurricular activities, but with a school like Thunder Bay Prep, it would probably be expected. I can’t see her wanting to be on a team, so Girl’s Basketball probably isn’t a good match…

Oh. You know, with her being a bit of a sleuth in Hideaway and tailing Kai to get his routine, she’d probably make a good Yearbook photographer. Or maybe working on their school paper. Maybe something along those lines that keeps her out of the spotlight. Though, I don't know what Banks would want to do growing up. Maybe she does go into student government, wanting to make changes that actually make sense and benefit the students, instead of planting a tree as the senior gift for the fifth year in a row (do these people even know what they could do with this much money, or do they only know how to add when it's involving cases of beer and tits?). Maybe she does it because she's tired of seeing Chloe get everything and wanted to challenge her, and then sort of accidentally ended up class president.

Actually, I like that...Emory makes fun of her for it all the time.

Speaking of Emory, they are best friends. Both come from more humble backgrounds, which would naturally make them targets for bullies, but not this time. Because the whole school knows wherever Emory goes, Banks is close by. And wherever Banks is, Damon is close by. And wherever Damon is, the Horsemen are close by. Not to mention, Will is a horseman, and he’s always close to wherever Emory is…

Not that Banks and Em need them. They're pretty good with the tongue lashings, themselves.

Without a doubt, Banks goes to every single one of Emmy’s activities to show support. She hangs out when Emmy’s working on her projects, and helps when she needs a hand. They both have a crush on a Horseman, but they only talk (read: tease each other) about that when they can guarantee no one can hear them.

I headcanon Banks, Emmy, and Elle are a pretty solid trio. Emmy's smart and artsy, Elle's a soft-hearted romantic, always talking about dating but never taking her own advice, and Banks plays the rebel without a cause who loves her two friends.

Anyway, have some pics that would definitely be in Banks' friend's (so Emmy and Elle) camera roll.

that last one's from Banks of will and emmy. (i've never seen love, rosie, so I don't know context. but I know in a willemmy high school au that has yet to be written, this scene will happen)

Let me know what you think! Or if my headcanons helped inspire some of yours. This was really fun, thanks for the ask.

#asked and answered 270 #asked and answered #devil's night series #devil's night series stuff #devils night #nikova banks #ko's headcanons

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goldsainz · 8 months

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HOME SWEET HOME — one shot.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

2K CELEBRATION. MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @mikasa140904 @darleneslane

summary: carlos finds a home in your house.

request: "May I please req ✒️ with the prompt ❛ here we are, home sweet home. ❜ with Carlos please"

warnings: very, very short.

NOTE: i wrote this in under 20 minutes, so i hope it’s good😭

[ word count: 565 ]

You’re not sure when, but over time, your home became Carlos’s too.

You had been dating for some time, but not enough to move in together. Especially since Carlos was rarely in one place for too long, always moving because his job demanded it of him.

Your house in the Spanish outskirts was perfect. It was homely, and was a great place for Carlos to live calmly. If anything happened, a drive to the city was always available, but mostly, it didn’t feel foreign to him. Whenever he was exhausted by the bustle the city provided, he knew he could find comfort in your Villa.

It was no surprise that for the summer he decided you should spend some time together; and what better place than your house.

With over-packed bags and a promise of relaxation, Carlos was more than happy to make the fairly long drive to your home. He paid no mind to the fact that it would probably drain him or that he wasn’t excited to drive, but he was excited to where he would go. That was more than enough for him.

“Amor, we’re here.” He said, gently moving your sleeping form so that you would wake up.

“Hm?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to adjust to the light.

“We’re here.” He repeated, a soft smile forming at how you yawned and stretched your limbs, probably cramped from the weird position you had to adapt to in the car.

“Oh, I didn’t realise.” You says with a laugh, looking over to Carlos as he takes his glasses off and opens the door to fetch your bags.

You grab your handbag from the backseat and get out of the car. You make a move to help your boyfriend, but he brushes you off, muttering something about how he can handle it.

“Tienes las llaves?” Carlos asks, his hands patting his own pockets trying to find the keys. You have the keys?

You fumble through your bag and after a couple seconds, you lift the keys. You step forward and place them in the keyhole, when the door opens you push it and step aside so Carlos can enter and place the bags down on the floor.

“Here we are, home sweet home.” Your boyfriend exhales, throwing himself on the living room’s couch. He doesn't seem to pay any mind to the fact that he called your house hom, or that you find the phrase comforting.

You're more than glad that he found a home in youtube house, in a space that was once lonely and only yours, now is shared with the person you love.

“Yeah, home sweet home.” You mumble, moving to where he is laid to lean down and peck him on the lips.

Carlos quickly takes the opportunity to turn an innocent kiss into something more heated, more passionate. And you let him. But when he moves to take you down on the couch with him, you stop him.

“I love you,” You say against his lips, “But I desperately need to shower.”

He groans and reluctantly lets you go. As you step back from the couch, you smirk at his spread out form, grabbing the doorside to the bedroom.

“You’re coming or what?” At your words he almost sprints towards you and you're sure you've never seen Carlos move quite as fast in his life.

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recuira · 7 months

Text

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four

chapter five | fights. fondness. fury.

his pov;

I followed close behind Y/N, almost like a lost puppy. She led the way while I walked after her, holding numerous bags full of random vegetables, grains, and dairy products. I felt bad but Y/N insisted on using the money I lent her to pay for the groceries. I told her I'd be happy to cover this but she gave me a firm 'no' and told me that a dinner guest shouldn't have to pay for their meal. It was inhumane- improper, she said. I smiled. I loved how persistent she could be.

As we turned the corner, she reached deep into the pocket of her backpack and pulled out a rusted key. The sight of her home appeared in the distance. I've never been inside. I've only ever seen what it looked like from an outside perspective. I was thrilled to finally be a part of Y/N's personal life. I was always separate from this part but now, I was finally being let in.

Her home appeared closer within seconds which took me as a shock. She lived closer than I had originally realized. Clearing my throat, I scooped the bags into my arms, hugging them against my chest. I rested my chin atop the quart of milk and looked down at the girl as she struggled to jam the key inside the lock. "Anything I need to watch out for?" I asked, taking a step closer to her.

Shaking her head, she was finally able to unlock the door. "No, just be nice. Use manners."

"Do I not already?" I asked, taken aback.

"Use them more often."

I nodded my head, clenching my jaw.

Y/N looked up at me, somehow being able to sense how nervous I was. I gulped and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Relax, Buggers," She hummed as she nudged me with her elbow. A warm smile wafted over my face and I shrugged my shoulders back, listening to her simple yet helpful words of advice. "Just be yourself."

"I've never had anyone tell me that before."

"Why?"

Just before I could answer, the door was pushed open and Y/N's mother appeared, smiling at the both of us. I stayed still as my friend walked ahead of me, slipping her shoes off beside the open door. I remained frozen, wielding the bags of groceries close to me. Why was I so scared? Why was I not moving?

"Is he not going to come in?" Her mother whispered to Y/N.

"Buggy, come inside."

With those words, I snapped out of my horrified trance and listened to her, walking in. The door was shut behind me and I took a second to admire everything around me.

To the left of me was the kitchen. A small counter wrapped around, two barstools sitting underneath it. A bowl of fruit sat atop. The kitchen was tiny with two burners, one of which held a tea kettle. The refrigerator was marked with scratches and what seemed to be dents. I frowned. I wonder what happened.

To my right was a staircase leading upstairs, to what I'm presuming was Y/N's bedroom and an extra room now that her mother moved downstairs. In front of me was a large wooden table with two matching chairs and then past that, a couch lined with assorted blankets. Built into the stone wall was a fireplace that was burning brightly, the flames crackling. I'm glad she could have a furnace or some type of heat to keep her warm at night. Especially during these times, hypothermia was fairly common. I was thankful it wouldn't be an issue for her.

After examining my surroundings, my eyes trailed back to the lovely woman next to me who started to grab items from my arms. I apologized and set the rest of the bags on the countertop, helping both her and her mother to unload them.

"How much was all of this?" Her mother asked as she grabbed a bag of tomatoes, staring closely at them.

"Not much."

"Did he pay?" She met my gaze for a second then looked back down.

"No, I did."

"Why didn't he pay?"

"Mom-" Y/N nudged her mother's shoulder, shaking her head. "Don't say anything like that. It's rude."

She held her hands up in defense. "My apologies." Her eyes rolled.

I decided to let them be and ventured into the living room. I took a seat on the couch, resting my arm atop the back of it. I leaned back and admired the crackling flames. More bickering was heard from behind me and I cringed. Poor girl.

"Is he gonna help make dinner?" I heard her mother whisper after she questioned if my nose was real or not. I grimaced.

"You can ask him yourself! Talk to him. I'm going to go get changed. I'll be right back," Y/N announced. As I turned my head, I watched the young girl walk up the staircase. Her mother was staring at me, forcing a smile.

"Come help me."

I gave a firm nod, pressed my hands to my thighs, and pushed myself up and off of the couch. I headed into the kitchen and smiled down at her. "What can I help with?"

"Chop those tomatoes and the onions."

"Okay," I said with a smile. I grabbed a knife from the small rack and slipped my gloves off, stuffing them into the left pocket of my coat. I wielded the knife and started to slice the tomatoes. "Diced? Chopped?"

"Diced, please."

An uncomfortable silence fell and I raised my head in hopes of seeing Y/N walking down the stairs but she remained invisible. I gulped and turned my head to face her mother who was measuring a few cups of water. I cleared my throat. "Thank you for inviting me over for dinner."

"I've heard a lot about you. I wanted to see if you lived up to the expectations."

"What has been said?"

"Only good things."

I smiled. I'm glad Y/N thought so highly of me. "She's said good things about you, too."

Her mom let out a gutty chuckle. "Yeah! That's funny. She hates me."

"No, she doesn't. She loves you."

"She sure has a hefty way of showing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Ya know how kids are. Disrespectful, defiant. She's no different."

I frowned. "How is she disrespectful?"

"Talks illy of her father. A man who aspired to be more and she shames him for that. I'll never understand it."

I scooped the tomatoes into a small bowl and then started to chop the onions, constantly blinking so I wouldn't cry. The smell burned my nose and eyes. I wanted to give my opinion on the matter but due to my dinner invitation, I didn't deem it to be seen fit. I stayed quiet and listened to her complaints. When Y/N finally appeared, it felt like a breath of fresh air to see her angelic self walk down the stairway. I found myself to be entranced with her beauty.

She changed into a sundress, the fabric matching her eyes. I smiled at the sight, biting my bottom lip. I was so distracted by her goddess look that I didn't feel the blade of the knife cut into my finger. With my clouded mind, I was also unable to use my devil fruit ability to stop the blade from cutting me. As soon as I felt it, I jumped back and dropped the knife. My blood pooled on the white cutting board and I winced, grabbing a towel from the stove to wrap around my wound. Y/N noticed this and hurried towards me, frowning. "What happened?"

I blinked and shook my head. "I just cut my finger, that's all. I'm okay."

"You're not okay, you're bleeding."

"Yeah, but-"

"Follow me, come here." She led me over to the other side of the counter and sat me down on a barstool. She disappeared into a small closet before reappearing with a small wooden box. I held my finger, feeling a pulse beat through my hand. Her mom watched with a troubled expression. I ignored her look and turned to gaze up at Y/N who was finally taller than me. I smirked.

She dug through the box and pulled out a bandage.

"Thank you, nurse," I whispered while she wrapped the bandage around my finger after disinfecting it with alcohol. "It feels a lot better."

"Don't mention it,'' She said softly. "Be careful next time."

"No promises." I winked.

As she turned around, I noticed that the dress was sheer. I don't know if she realized that but I didn't want to sound like a pervert by telling her. But I felt like a pervert by not telling her. I chewed on my lower lip and looked down at my finger.

Part of me wished she kissed my finger, but I knew I was asking too much.

Rising from the seat, I resumed cutting vegetables while the girl set the table. She pulled a barstool over and slid it next to one of the chairs. I watched her momentarily before scooping the remaining sliced peppers and garlic into the small bowl. I carried it over to her mother. "Here you go."

"Thank you," She patted my hand and then started to sift them into the pot of chicken stock. I backed up and leaned back against the counter, folding my arms over my chest. "What should I call you? Y/N's mom?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Evelyn."

"Nice to meet you, Evelyn."

I caught Y/N looking over at me. I met her gaze and smiled as she mouthed a quick 'thank you'.

I whispered 'you're welcome' in return, winking at her.

-=-

her pov;

It was a nice sight to see my mother and Buggy getting along so far. My mother was a troubling woman. While I loved her, she always had ulterior motives. She never did anything out of the kindness of her own heart. So while watching her interact with my new friend, I tried my best to predict what would happen. But there were too many possibilities. Too many endless outcomes. All I could do was wait because if I asked her, I'd be chewed out instantly.

I reached into the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of red wine. Popping the cork out, I poured three glasses and set them next to each of the three plates. I wasn't going to drink but I knew my mother would. I looked up at Buggy. Was he going to? The extra glass was just for show. I was called numerous names by my mother for not drinking alcohol. I didn't want to hear any of it tonight. I wanted things to go perfectly- no, beyond perfect. Things needed to be overly perfect, if that was possible.

But as the night furthered, I realized that my hope was nothing more than a silly dream.

When dinner was finally being eaten, the three of us gathered around the table. Buggy sipped on his glass of wine while my mother downed hers and then grabbed mine. "You're not gonna drink it," She insisted as she took a swig. "She hates alcohol," She said as she looked at Buggy.

"I know." He swallowed and slid the glass away from him.

I slowly began to eat. It’s been so long since I’ve sat down with my mother and shared a meal. And even longer since she cooked. Most of the time we ate separately. The only time we shared together were with stupid arguments.

“How’s the food, Buggy?” My mother asked.

The clown smiled and nodded his head. “Very good.”

“Y/N?” She tilted her gaze toward me.

“Good, thank you.”

“So, Buggy, I heard you used to be a pirate. Tell me about that.”

“Uhm.” He dropped his fork and finished chewing before washing the food down with wine. He cleared his throat and sat up. “What would you like to know?”

“How much money did it make you?”

I rolled my eyes and dropped my head into my hand.

“Well, obviously you can imagine it was quite a lot. I was quite wealthy and fortunate but of course, it wasn’t the best way to make money. I regret it now but-“

“Are you still rich?”

“Mom, talk about something else-“ I interrupted before she interrupted me.

“Stop. I’m just making conversation.”

I sighed and grabbed the wine bottle from beside her. I poured myself a glass and hesitantly, I took a sip. I grimaced at the taste but forced it down. I could tell tonight wasn’t going to go smoothly.

“I do have a bit saved, yeah. But not nearly as much as I used to.” The pirate took another bite.

“How much do you have saved?” My mom dropped her fork and rested her chin on her hands.

“A couple million berries, give or take.”

“Is that going to my daughter when you get married?”

I gasped, laughing. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s a simple question, is it not? If you two are going to get married, then you need my blessing.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re not even dating, what makes you think we’re going to get married?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I took another bite of the meal. "What is with these questions? Is it only about money for you?"

"We have no money, Y/N. I've been telling you it's best to marry young and marry wealthy."

"Are you kidding me?"

-=-

his pov;

The tension was growing fast. And so was my discomfort.

When the idea of marriage came up, I felt hot.

It was a dream of mine but there was no way I was going to. At least not yet. Y/N looked so uncomfortable with the thought of it, as well. I wanted to interrupt and hopefully ease the situation but before I knew it, they both were yelling at each other.

I frowned, sinking into my seat.

But the thing that worried me the most was how much Y/N was drinking. When I first realized how many glasses she repeatedly poured herself, I grew concerned. Before I could reach over, grab her wrist, and tell her to stop, the argument got more heated. Both women were drunkenly yelling at one another, pointing out each other's flaws and dismays.

"You're nothing but disrespectful toward me, do you know that? Constantly talking back, saying you know what's best for me, shitting on your father who risked his life for us! You're horrible to me, Y/N. I try to be a good mother to you, and this is what I get in return. Blatant disrespect?" Evelyn spat as she pushed herself up from her seat at the table. She stormed into the kitchen and leaned down, sorting through the liquor cabinet. While she wasn't looking, I grabbed the girl's wrist and urged her to stop.

"Hey, don't fuel this. Let's just go. You can stay with me again tonight-" I tried to whisper but she ripped herself from my grip and followed after her mother in the kitchen, continuing to add fuel to the wildfire. Sighing, my head fell into my hands and I felt the urge to scream but I remained quiet, forcing myself to sit still. I wanted to defend Y/N, however, this wasn't my battle. She needed to conquer this on her own.

"He left us! How is he risking his life? He willingly ditched his family for some stupid, probably made-up treasure! Do you find it odd that he never wrote to you? Or me? He completely abandoned us! And you call him a hero," The girl's face went red with anger. She threw her hands up in the air to exaggerate her point. She then shook her head. "It's pathetic. I knew I shouldn't have invited Buggy over."

"What?"

"Do you know how horrible it is to ask someone for their money? Or to insinuate that you want it? He's a good friend of mine. I don't care about his money. I never asked for anything. He offered it to me out of the kindness of his heart."

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"Take a guess."

Slap!

Before I could process anything, Y/N was clutching her cheek, crying.

The escalation of this situation was beyond anything I could process. One moment we were getting along, sharing a nice meal, and now, Y/N was on the floor, crying as she cursed her mother, wishing her to be dead like her father.

Within seconds, both women left. Y/N ran to her bedroom and Evelyn left through the front door.

I sat alone at the table, clutching my thighs as I stayed completely still. I attempted to process what had just happened but I failed to do so.

Y/N had every right to despise her father. He left her when she was an infant for the One Piece, which sure, could simply be a huge hoax. A woman without a father is tragic. She needed a proper male role model in her life. However, due to her father's immature dreams, she was left alone. And Evelyn? While present, she was still very absent in her life. My heart ached for her. Someone so sweet and kind shed too many tears for people who could care less about her.

I didn't want to immediately run upstairs to her aid. She needed space, from what I understood.

I took a few minutes to clean up from dinner then I proceeded up the narrow staircase. I knocked on the door which consisted of a weeping woman behind it. A muffled 'come in' allowed my entrance.

I pushed the door open and closed it behind me.

The poor girl lay on her bed, clutching herself in a tight ball as she wept, her body shaking the bed. I approached her, kneeling on the bed. My hand found her back and I stroked it. I succeeded in ignoring the sheerness of her dress, my eyes locking on the back of her head.

"Are you alright?"

A stupid question, I know. She was crying. Of course, she wasn't okay. But I felt responsible to ask it.

She remained silent, the sounds of her sobs hurting both my heart and my ears. I wanted to be deaf. To hear someone as enchanting as her cry was worse than a life sentence.

"Do you want me to leave?"

With those words, she twisted her body and faced me. Her makeup streaked down her wet face. I gave her a sincere smile. She was still so pretty. I reached to grab her hurt cheek. I wiped her tears, making sure to be extremely gentle.

"I'll be quiet. Talk to me when you feel ready."

Her swollen eyes closed and she gave a half-nod.

I remained quiet, caressing her soft skin. I admired her, thanking God her eyes were closed so she wouldn't think my staring was creepy. A few loose strands of hair stuck to her teary face to which I wiped them away.

I let out a soft sigh and laid back, my head propped on a stuffed animal of a turtle. I smirked to myself. Her room was cozy. Her bed was soft and the sheets were silk. A window took up half of a wall which had translucent pink curtains hanging down from a pole. A lantern sat on her bedside table, a wooden dresser in front of us. If I were her, I'd never leave. I loved all of the pink decorations. It was cute.

I was about to check on her again but before I could, she sat up and crawled closer to me, her wet face burying into the crook where my neck and right shoulder met. I let out an inaudible gasp, a shiver running down my spine as I could feel her hot breath against my skin. My arm swept underneath her and I pulled her closer to me, my hand rubbing her back. I slipped my hand below the hem of her dress so I could rub her bare back. She didn't protest. I smiled.

Her hand found my chest as she clutched my striped vest. I spread my legs to get comfortable. Her own wrapped around my waist. I was shocked with how close and personal she was becoming but did I mind? Not. One. Bit.

My free hand caressed her soft hair, combing my fingers through it. The sweet scent of her strong shampoo floated past my nose. Coconut and vanilla.

I opened my mouth, moments from speaking but before I had the opportunity to, a kiss was placed against my neck. My eyes widened and I pushed her off of me. Her tired eyes met mine for a moment. I looked at her, confused. But she smiled at me and leaned back in, this time placing a kiss against my lips. When she pulled back, a soft red tint rested on her mouth. "What?" She whispered, her eyes trailing to admire my mouth.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know," She murmured and kissed me again. She repeated this, each kiss longer and more passionate than the previous one. My hands now remained glued at my sides. I was scared to use them, not knowing what I planned on doing with them. But when her hand grabbed my own and she brought my injured finger up to her soft, plump lips, I swallowed, feeling my body heat up. She kissed my finger, humming. "I wanted to do this earlier, but…"

"Y/N, what's going on?"

"Hm? Nothing," She murmured and kissed me again. She guided my hand up to grab at her chest. She gripped my hand upon her right breast then dropped her hand. "I'm not doing anything," She repeated.

My body only continued to grow hot.

What was she doing? Why was she doing this?

She wasn't the type of girl to just sleep around. She had respect for herself, which I heavily admired. So why was she doing this?

Her kisses grew more frequent and before I knew it, she was completely on top of me. Her thighs straddled my hips as she forced me back against the bed. I pulled the stuffed turtle out from beneath my heart and tossed it somewhere across the room. I moaned into her mouth as she kissed me harder, this time with her tongue.

I shivered, my hand stuck on her breast, delicately scrunching my fingers. She wasn't wearing a bra.

My breath hitched as my finger grazed over her nipple. She whined at this, a sound that was a symphony to my ears.

"Buggy," She moaned against my mouth. "Take my dress off."

And that's when it hit me.

This wasn't her.

This wasn't Y/N.

As much as I've been craving this since the moment my eyes landed on a goddess like herself, I couldn't do it. Not when she was drunk and an emotional wreck.

"I can't," I whispered against her mouth, my hand dropping from her breast. Her hovering mouth pulled away and she gave me a skeptical look, her eyebrows furrowing together. I frowned. I could tell she was upset. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean 'you can't'?" Y/N asked, clearly offended and taken aback. She looked down at the erection beneath my pants. She giggled, "You clearly can. And want to."

"Do you?"

"What?" She laughed, her eyes rolling. "I insinuated this, no?"

"You're drunk," I said flatly. "I don't want to do this. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you." I grabbed a pillow from behind me and used it to cover my hips. "I want to do this when you're sober. Not when you're intoxicated and upset."

She scoffed. "Are you kidding me?"

"I don't want to upset you-"

"Well, you have." The girl crawled off of me and her arms folded over her chest. Her lips were stained red from my own. Normally, I would find the sight to be riveting but now, I was ashamed that I let it travel this far. "I want you to leave," She whispered.

"Y/N, come on, I don't want you to end up regretting this."

"No, you're right. I would end up regretting this."

I frowned. "Can we just talk tomorrow? About all of this?" I reached to take her hand in mine but she declined the offer by slapping it away.

"I want you to go."

"But-"

"I thought you liked me. I felt like we had a connection. I understood you, you understood me. And when I finally get the courage to show you how I feel, you just push me away," Her lower lip quivered as her eyes watered with tears.

"I do like you. I always have. I just want you to be sober, to be confident in what you're doing."

"And what makes you think I'm not sober?"

"You're slurring your words and your breath smells of alcohol," I admitted.

"Whatever," Y/N mumbled as she crawled off of the bed and stood on her feet. "I just wanted to give this night a good end. But my fault, I guess. I read into things too much."

I stayed quiet. I knew she didn't mean what she was saying.

"You're horrible, ya know that? You give me so many mixed signals by calling me cute, buying me things, and spoiling me with money. What do you want from me? I throw myself onto you and you push me away? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm going to go."

"Good! Go! The quicker, the better. I was sick of looking at you anyway." Her words cut deeper than any knife or blade ever could. But I knew she didn't mean any of it. It was the alcohol. I knew how she felt when her mother pulled this stunt with her. It wasn't a good feeling.

"Have a good night, Y/N." I smiled as I climbed off of the bed. I approached her despite her discomfort and pressed a kiss against her forehead. I then backed away, approaching the door. Part of me hoped she would beg me to stay but she remained quiet. Just as I left her bedroom, the door behind me slammed shut. While I was unhappy with her reaction, I was satisfied with the outcome. I'd much rather her despise me than take advantage of her when she was drunk by having sex with her. I knew she would regret it. She wasn't the type of girl to drink, let alone have sex with a guy while doing so.

As I walked downstairs, I realized she might forget about this in the morning. Or she wouldn't. I just didn't want her to hate me because of this. I was only looking out for her best interest.

I left her home and adjusted my coat, closing the door behind me. Evelyn leaned against the outside of the house, her foot propped up with a lit cigarette in her right hand. She looked at me and smiled. "Trouble in paradise?" She chuckled, taking a puff.

I adjusted the sleeves of my coat and looked over my shoulder. If it weren't for her, none of this would've happened. I developed a new hatred for Y/N's mother. "If I give her any more of what I have, I'm making sure you get jackshit," I snapped.

"We'll see about that. Like mother, like daughter."

"She is nothing like you."

"You're a no-good pirate. I see that. I just need her to realize that."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. I reached over, grabbed the cigarette from her lips, and threw it on the ground. I squished it below my foot and then stepped forward. "The first step to conquering addiction is admitting you have one."

"Go home, clown."

It took everything in me not to say my true feelings to her, but that was Y/N's mother. I wasn't going to insult her mom.

It was best to leave before things escalated further.

I had such high hopes for tonight but alas, nothing was made a reality. As I started down the street, I wondered if I made a mistake by not continuing further with Y/N. I wanted to, I really did. I wanted nothing more than to share a moment of intimacy with her. But the red wine clouded her judgment. She had a huge fight with her mother. Evelyn even hit her. There was no way she was thinking clearly.

And if our relationship is affected because of this, then so be it.

I'd rather that than take something precious from her.

Than to corrupt someone as pure as she.

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