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#but i just started and have no idea where i'm going
dduane · 3 days
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I just received a copy of a book I've been very much looking forward to by a favorite author, but the quality of the book itself is... not great. Cheap paper, weak binding, even a weird illustration of the main character on the cover that I'm having trouble believing the author approved. Obviously, I don't want to leave a bad review on Amazon or GoodReads or anywhere, as I'm 100% certain the content is as excellent as her other work. But how can I best let the publisher (Baen) know I'm disappointed without threatening to never buy her books again? Because, well, if this is the only option, I'm gonna keep buying them even in my disappointment.
Well, the first thing I thought when I read this was "Wow, I'm really glad I don't have anything in print from Baen at the moment except a couple of anthologized short stories." :)
As for the rest of it, let's take it point by point.
Adding a cut here, because this will run a bit long. Caution: contains auctorial bitching and moaning, painful illustrations of cases in point, and brief advice on how to complain most effectively. (Also links to paintings of cats.)
Cheap paper: This has been an accurate complaint since well before COVID—and it's often been worse since, with supply chain issues also being involved. That said: one way publishers routinely save money on printing books, especially the bigger ones, is by going for thinner/cheaper paper. I remember one of our UK editors going on at great length and with huge annoyance—during one of those late-night convention-bar bitch sessions—over how the only way they could get some really good books published (because Upstairs insisted on reducing the per-copy production costs) was by reducing the paper quality to the point where you could nearly read through it. Sacrificing decent text size(s) also became part of this. Nobody in editorial was happy about the result: but there wasn't much they could do.
Bad bindings: Similar problem. Sewn bindings used to be a thing in paperbacks... but not any more: not for a good while, now. These days, it's all glue. Even hardcovers are showing up glued rather than sewn. Don't get me started. :/ (This is why I so treasure some of the oldest paperbacks I've acquired, which are actually sewn.)
Crap covers: I've had my share of these—though my share of some really good ones, too. And one of the endless frustrations of traditional publishing is that the writer routinely has little or even no influence over what the cover will look like... let alone how much will be spent on it, or (an often-related issue) how good the execution will be.
There are of course exceptions. If you're working at the, well, @neil-gaiman -esque level or similar in publishing, a lot more attention is going to be paid to your thoughts. You may even be able to get "cover veto" written into your contracts, so that if you disapprove, changes will get made. But without actual contractual stipulations, the writer has zero legal recourse or way to withhold approval. (And I bet even Neil has some horror stories.)
The normal workflow looks like this. After a book's purchased, its editor and the art director discuss what it's about and what the cover should look like. The art director then hires an artist and tells them what to do. After that, the artist executes their vision and gets paid. It is incredibly rare for a writer to have any significant input into this process. And as to whether or not they approve of the final result, well... the publisher mostly just shrugs and goes back to eyeing the bottom line, muttering "Who told them they get a vote?"
Now, I've been seriously lucky to occasionally be an exception in this regard. In particular, my editors at Harcourt (when Jane Yolen and Michael Stearns were editing Harcourt's Magic Carpet YA imprint) would ask me what I thought would be a good idea for the next Young Wizards cover, and I'd think about it a bit and send them back a paragraph or so about some core scene. They'd then talk to their art director, and after that send their notes and mine to Cliff Nielsen (who started doing the covers for the hardcover and mass-market paperback editions of the series in the mid-90s) or to Greg Swearingen (who was the artist on the digest-format editions). And the results, by and large, were pretty good. ...I also think affectionately of the UK artist Mick Posen, who insisted on seeing pictures of our cats before painting the covers for the Hodder editions of The Book of Night with Moon and On Her Majesty's Wizardly Service (the UK title for To Visit The Queen).
But this kind of treatment is a courtesy—not even vaguely suggested in the books' contracts, and very much the exception to the rule. And for every writer who's midlist, there are times when the luck runs out. For example: one time I wrote a book that was an AU-Earth-near-future fantasy police procedural, thematically pretty dark—dealing with issues of abuse of megacorporate power, institutionalized bigotry, and (explicitly) attempted genocide. And the cover, done by an artist who's a good friend and some of whose fabulous art hangs in our house, came out looking like this. It was... let's just say "not ideally representative."
So I was glad, when my local workflow allowed it, to recover the current, revised version of the book with something at least a little more apropos. But the original cover's not the artist's fault. He did what the art director told him... as a cover artist must do to get paid, and (ideally) to get hired again. At present, that's how the system works.
...So. You've got a badly-built and -presented book on your hands. How best to make your feelings known in some way that might make a difference down the line? (As you make it plain that you'll keep buying this author's books this way if you must.)
First of all: when (as part of my psych nursing training) we were taught how to complain most effectively, we were told that the first and most basic rule of the art is this:
Only Complain To Someone Who Can Actually Do Something About Your Problem
So I salute your desire not to waste your time taking the issue to the reviews on Amazon, or the pages of Goodreads... because they can't do anything. The odds that anyone from production at Baen is reading the comments there strike me as... well, not infinitesimally small, not being hit-by-a-meteorite-while-in-the-shopping-center-parking-lot small... but really low.
So: write to corporate.
In your place I would go online and rummage around a bit to find out who's on record as the publisher at Baen. I would then write them a letter on paper. And I would lay out the problem pretty much as you laid it out up at the top.
The tone I think I'd choose would be the more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger approach. I'd say, "I write to comment about your recently published book by [X Writer], whose work I love. I have to say, though, that I don't think the cover on [X Book] is terribly representative of the quality of the prose inside. And also, the construction and production quality of the book itself was a disappointment to me because [here spell out why].
"I'd really like to see [X. Writer's] books succeed with you, and I'd like to buy more of them without wondering whether I was going to be disappointed again. But if this is typical of how they're being produced, I'd also be concerned that the state of these books is setting up a situation in which the author's sales will be damaged, and you would stop publishing them... which would really be a shame. Whereas on the other hand, better production quality could keep previous purchasers coming back and buying, not only more books by this author, but books by others whom you publish."
This phrasing, as you'll have seen, walks a bit wide around the issue of your further purchases, while directing attention toward the bottom line... which will routinely be what the publisher's looking at from day to day. And—being, one has to hope, in possession of the wider picture as regards what's going on with their production costs—maybe they can actually do something about it.
Anyway, nothing ventured, nothing gained, yeah? It's worth a try. All you can do is hope for the best.
And finally: please know that I admire your commitment to the author: whoever she is, she's lucky to have you. It's a terrific thing to have readers who'll willing to spend the time to hunt you down, and who're willing not to judge a book by its cover. :)
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daenysx · 2 days
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imagine giving james a skincare sesh where reader is seated comfortably (on his lap ehm) and he lets her put all sorts of moisturizers, face masks and even lip balm on him and he secretly LOVES it and after they eat homemade cookies and watch their comfort show
thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun writing this, it's my skincare routine applied to james. i guess that means he's literally my boyfriend now (support my delusions please <3333) you can send me requests for james!
james potter x fem!reader, fluff
"are you ready?" you say, grinning. you carried most of your skincare essentials to living room, ready to give your tired boyfriend a nice spa day.
"yes." james walks out of the bathroom. "i washed my face."
"with the cleansing jel?"
"yes, baby." he sits on the couch next to you. you place yourself on his lap expertly, his face looks dry and clean. you lean to give him a kiss on his cheek, james settles down on couch with his back to pillows.
"okay." you say, clapping your hands. you're excited to give him a nice treating, he deserves all the best. you've never understood how boys have clear and smooth skin naturally, james certainly doesn't use as many products as you do, but he lets you do anything you want to him. skincare is like a therapy for you, quality minutes you spend on yourself. it's relaxing, taking care of your body without a single thought in your mind, you want james to experience it, too.
"let me just pull your hair back first." you say quietly, using tiny hairclips to secure his curls.
"why are you whispering?" he asks, whispering.
"i wanna create a relaxing ambience for you." you answer. "whispering is a part of it."
"oh." he teases. "okay."
you take your face toner in your hand, pouring some of it on a cotton pad. "close your eyes, jamie." you say, start applying it on his skin.
james relaxes into the pillow, his hands keep you balanced on his thighs. he likes how excited you get to take care of him, he likes being spoiled by you. your fingers are gentle on his face, almost invisible.
"now i'm gonna put on a face mask, handsome." you say, tearing the package of the mask. "it can feel a bit cold."
"that's okay." he mumbles. you place the mask on his skin carefully, adjusting the sides to cover his entire face. "what does this do?"
"um," you read the package. "it's for hydration mostly, and it has vitamin c in it."
"cool." he has no idea what vitamin c does for skin.
"we're gonna wait for 15 minutes." you say. "can i massage your hands while we wait?"
this must be some kind of special heaven for james. he gives you his hands blindly, you put on hand cream on the back of his hands and start rubbing it nicely on his skin.
james sometimes complains about how rough his hands feel, he washes them a lot and always neglects applying moisturizer. the cream feels good, like he has the skin of a baby now. you're being really sweet on him, he likes the way his muscles loosen up under your fingers.
"you're an angel." he says, a deep sound coming from his throat when you press a tight spot between his thumb and forefinger. "my fucking angel."
you smile, giving the same care to his other hand. james feels his hands go numb when you're finished. you clean the remnants of the cream on your hands before taking the mask off his face. "there you go." you put the used mask aside. "feels good?"
"i feel like a baby."
you laugh. "you're gonna be like a baby when i'm done."
it's a nice promise, james likes it very much. "i'm gonna apply some under eye cream now." you whisper. "you have no dark circles, i'm so jealous."
"it's because i actually have a sleeping schedule, lovely girl." he smiles. "something you lack, you know."
"hmm."
you massage his face a little bit before applying some moisturizer. you don't think any more products are needed for james, his skin is already perfect and the mask takes care of a lot of things. you want his face to be relaxed, so you keep your fingers on his cheeks. he smiles a lot, there are little lines on the corners of his lips and eyes that start forming. you can't help yourself, you kiss his lips softly. he immediately reacts but you pull yourself back, focusing on your work.
"what's the point of relaxing if i'm not gonna get a kiss?" james frowns.
"you'll get your kisses." you promise. "when i'm done."
applying moisturizer is so easy, his skin is glowing now. you make sure you cover every little spot on his face. "it smells good." he says. you nod even though his eyes are closed. "it really does." you say.
"and now," you put the cream away. "lip mask."
"lip mask?" james opens his eyes. "how will i kiss you if i have something on my lips?"
you laugh at his dramatics. "it never stopped you before. you always ruin my lipstick, remember?"
"not the same thing."
"come on, be a good boy for once." you tease. james parts his lips in shock. "once? this is a vile accusation."
you stop him, putting on a tiny bit of lip mask on his lips. he presses his lips together clumsily. "it tastes nice. is that strawberry?"
"you're not supposed to eat it!" you laugh. "leave some of it at least."
"mm, okay." he says. you fix his hair, and put a kiss on his cheek. you hand him the remote before leaving his lap. "i'm gonna bring you some cookies, can you pick a show?"
james nods, watches you clean up the mess through sleepy eyes. his skin has never felt this soft, he wants to pinch his own cheeks. he opens up the show you both like as he waits for you.
you come back with a plate full of cookies. james pulls you into his lap again. "i'm gonna eat just one." he says smugly. "i can't ruin my lip mask and i don't want crumbs on my face."
you laugh. "you're getting really good at this skincare thing."
"thanks to my angel." he says, he kisses your cheek three times. "i love you so much."
"i love you, too, baby." you say, your hand in his curls. "i can do it anytime you want."
"good, because i don't think i can go on without this anymore." he says like it's so obvious. "now, i remember i was promised kisses."
you settle down on his lap. "i don't wanna ruin your lip mask."
"it's not ruining, babe." he disagrees. "i'm willingly sharing my lip mask with you."
you laugh until your chest hurts.
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willowedspirits · 1 day
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Hollow Knight Linked Universe AU! I've finally finished it!
If you don't know much about Hollow Knight, a lot of the technicalities might not make sense, and I would encourage you to look into the game. Or you could just enjoy the chain as bugs and see them off on their buggy adventures!
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I've made this AU trying to keep as close as I can to Hollow Knight's story, but some creative liberties were of course taken.
My main idea is that the infection is the equivalent to Dark Link's (who does exist in this) infected monsters and it's up to them to try and slow/stop the infection. My first thought was to have the infection start to spread outside of Hallownest, and the chain needs to go and stop it, but I'm still going back and forth on it.
I'm still open to changing concepts if I find something that works better, but after literal months of working on this on and off I'm happy with how this has turned out!
Rambling about character details below!
Small note: I've set this AU at roughly the start of the infection, when Radiance was starting to take over Hallownest.
Time
Is not from Hallownest. He traveled to Hallownest from a distant land, where he met Malon and settled down with her.
He encountered Radiance upon entering Hallownest, but was protected by a god that had already laid claim to him, Fierce Deity, who protects him from the Radiance's infection.
He and Malon live in the Howling Cliffs.
His wing and antenna injury are from Radiance when she tried to infect him.
He is not able to fly because of the injury, and now fights with a heavy nail.
His wings used to be green, but after encountering the Fierce Deity, they slowly started to change in color until they were blue.
I'm not sure if I would do anything with the eyes on his wings, I was trying to make a connection to Majora in that, but I'm still debating whether to add it.
Twilight
Is a part of the Traitor Mantis tribe that lives in the Queen's Garden.
He met a Sibling (Midna) that escaped from the Abyss. They gave him the ability to harness Void.
Still working on the detail for how exactly they give him this ability, but my rough idea is that perhaps both of them were attacked by and infected villager, and they saved him by giving up their Void essence.
He's grown up wanting to be infected by the Radiance. He was taught the Radiance was a god that gave bugs great strength, but after seeing what the infection really does, he starts to have second thoughts.
The cloak he is wearing is new. The one he wore before was damaged. I'm still debating on when exactly he gets it, but I think it's something he makes after he leaves the traitor village.
Warriors
He is the head knight of the Hive and oversees whoever enters their territory.
His scarf is a gift from the princess of the Hive given to him when he leaves to join the group.
Since he is a bee, he is connected to the Hive via the hivemind. He uses this to check in on his home whenever he can.
This also makes it very dangerous if he gets infected, since it would quickly spread to the other bee's.
I kept his nail the same as Hive Knight's, but it's open to change.
Four
(I'm still very iffy on Four's story concept, but here's what I have so far)
Lives in Green Path.
He has a passion for weapon smithing, and planned on moving to the capital of Hallownest (City of Tears).
But he accidently stumbled on a weak Unn, and agreed to help protect her while she recovered.
When she did recover, she blessed him with a power that allows him to split into 4 parts of himself using his SOUL.
He can split while in the physical world, but will always be split while in the Dream realm. This also makes it difficult for Radiance to infect him.
Wind
Lives in the Kingdom's Edge and works as a guide across the acid lakes. Most of the travelers are those who are seeking to fight in the Colosseum of Fools.
This is how he found the Colosseum, and regularly attends (but not participate in) some of the fights, which is how he meets Tetra.
He is just learning to fly, but is picking it up really fast.
I wanted to keep the lobster apart of his design... But there are no lobsters in Hollow Knight... Then I remembered this was an AU and I can do what I want with it. So lets just pretend that Lobsters are seen as these awesome ancient beings that he wishes to see one day.
Wild
He was a guardian of the Beast's Den before he became infected, leaving the Den to reside somewhere in Deep Nest.
He is cured by the Dream Nail when the group meets him, and the last to join.
His shell is cracked and damaged because of the infection. The cracks have healed over time, but will never go away.
He has trouble with his memory due to being infected for so long before being cured. He is slowly regaining his memory, but there are still a lot of pieces missing.
His infection spread through to his arm, but is hidden under his cloak.
He uses his nails almost as throwing needles.
Legend
Is a shop owner in Hallownest's capital. He sells all kinds of items from all across Hallownest, small things he's found that could be valuable.
He's managed to make his way into the upper class of the capital due to his shop. His cloak is a modified version of the upper-class wardrobe. He dyed and added the hood himself.
Has a great sense of exploration, and has been all over Hallownest, but still has some places he needs to check off.
His jewelry are all gifts from Ravio.
My original concept for his design was to give him 4 arms. I was thinking of the Collector when designing him, and thought it fit. But after working on finalizing the design, I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it. I still love the concept though.
Hyrule
(Again, I don't have a clear story concept for him but I have some notes)
Lives in the Ancient Basin.
Has learned how to use SOUL, and is in hiding from the residents of the Soul Sanctum because of it.
He has access to spells and is able to heal himself using SOUL.
I originally gave him a cloak, but couldn't decide if he looked better with or without it. So he does have it, but only sometimes.
Sky
Is the wielder of the Dream Nail, which can be used to cure infected bugs by purging the Radiance from their dream's.
Has wanted to learn to fight with a nail since he was little, and would practice his skills.
He learned about the Dream Nail after some of the moth tribe became infected. He left shortly after he learned this infection was spreading through Hallownest, with the goal of stopping it.
He isn't the only one that can use the Dream Nail, but is the one dubbed the "owner" of it.
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And that's what I've got!
I didn't go much into Dark Link here, but would be happy to show some concepts I have for him as well if anybody is curious. I'm making him almost like a living version of the Radiance's infection, and is able to spread it from bug to bug without needing to access their dreams. This is mainly why I'm torn on having them leave Hallownest. If Dark Link could spread the infection to farther lands, or to keep him inside Hallownest and just spread it faster there.
I thought that using the Dream Nail was a good equivalent to the Master Sword here, so I just mashed them together, and a lot of the motivations for the chain trying to stop the infection is "I'm seeing this awful thing happen to these bugs that I don't want to see happen to others," with some small variations here and there.
I've been working on this for so long, I just want to share by bug boys. I would love to gush and ramble about them some more. I have stuff I want to do with this AU.
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AITA for "using" a cucumber and putting it back in the fridge?
(🥒👌 to find later)
Please, I know it sounds nuts but hear me out. I feel awful and I need to know just how bad this is. Also, I intentionally left as much as possible vague as I am a minor and I do not want this to get removed for being too explicit. But the story will not make sense if I don't include certain things, please understand.
So I (16M) grew up in and currently still live in the bible belt, with extremely conservative evangelical parents. As a taste of what it's like, we have church 3 times a week, and church camp every summer. We are only allowed to access Netflix through a stupid content filter app and we can only use a restricted smart phone that is regularly checked at random by our parents. We get an hour and a half of computer usage every other day, and the internet on the computer is heavily filtered also. The only reason I have access to Tumblr and am able to post this now is because my best friend's older brother gave me his old android for my birthday a few years ago. His family is much more open minded, and I'm very close with them. I also think they have always felt a little bad for me with my family being the way they are.
I'm also gay. Obviously, my family does not know, and I intend to keep it that way. I won't go too deep into it, but it will suffice to say I struggled a lot when I was younger over this. The good thing is that in the last few years, I've been able to accept myself more and come to terms with what my own feelings about religion and faith really are. I came out to my best friend and his brother a little over a year ago, and they've been very supportive. I have yet to tell any of my other friends.
Recently, I've been trying out alcohol since my friends found a hookup. Something I have discovered is that I tend to get lewd feelings when I drink, which has nearly caused a few embarrassing moments around friends. Coincidentally, I have also been experimenting with... certain things. Being a minor, I obviously can't enter any of the adult stores around me, nor would I feel comfortable asking any of my friends to drive me there if I could. I also can't order anything online because my bank account is connected to my parents, and I don't have a shipping address I'm comfortable using for those items either. So instead, I use household objects that belong to me and can be sanitized easily. You might see where this is going.
Yesterday evening, I came home from best friend's house with a full bottle of wine in my backpack. We and a few other friends had already been sipping on a few beers that afternoon, and I still felt a little buzzed. After my family went to sleep, despite already having a little alcohol in my system, I proceeded to get wasted on this bottle of wine in my room. I don't have the clearest memory of all of this, but at some point, I got hungry and lewd-feeling. Went into the kitchen and, through some kind of thought process I can only imagine now, came back into my room with a cucumber. From the title of the post, you can hazard a guess as to what happened to this cucumber. Once I was done, I drukedly and quickly washed it in the bathroom sink and threw it back into the fridge. I went to sleep.
I started freaking out as soon as I woke up this morning. There were four cucumbers in the fridge, I was pretty positive at least two were going to be used for dinner tonight, and I had no idea which cucumber I did the deed with. To make matters worse, my mom was inviting the pastor of our church and his family over for dinner. I have practically no money currently, no license or vehicle, and no friends with vehicles free to pick up new cucumbers for me (and no reasonable explanation as to why I needed them to spot me for four cucumbers specifically). I also have no believable reason to give for why we shouldn't have cucumbers added in the salad mix. My mom knows I love them, and they haven't gone bad. Can't say I ate them because who the hell eats four raw cucumbers? And she'll interrogate both my brother and I until she gets a satisfying answer if I just throw them out. I didn't know what the hell to do about this and I was close to having a panic attack, so... I took a nap.
Evening came. Guests came over, dinner happened. We had porkchops with macaroni and side salads. Cucumbers were in the salad, and I along with pastor's family and my own, ate it like nothing was wrong. My parents, the pastor and his wife had an engaging conversation about politics, religion, and some mild church gossip after dinner. My little brother continued to read his book, and I had a very awkward and one-sided conversation about Young Sheldon with the pastor's daughter. Then they left. And I went to my room to mentally implode.
To say I'm horrified is a major understatement. I don't think anyone is going to get sick because I scrubbed all of the cucumbers with soap multiple times and cleaned the vegetable drawer with bleach when I woke up this morning. I guess I also don't know that the violated cucumber was one of the ones that was used for dinner tonight, but then it's only a matter of days until we have salad again, or if mom cuts one up for water. I've rattled my brain for any way I could get some new cucumbers without telling anyone the details of the event, but I have nothing. Don't even have the money, anyway. Gave up the last bit of cash I had for the damn wine yesterday, and I have $0.43 in total on my debit card.
Admittedly, there is a very small part of me that doesn't even really care if they have eaten or end up eating the damn thing. I can't stand my family. My parents are invasive, controlling and neurotic, and don't give a shit about how I'm doing in so far as it pertains to god and the church. I'm a little more sympathetic to my brother as he's been stuck in this hell with me, but at 13 he's already begun to regurgitate way more religious dogma than I ever did at his age. And I know for a fact that they would want nothing to do with me if they found out I was gay. They'd probably kick me out on the street and spit on me if I had to guess. But even still, this is only a small part of how I feel. What I did was still so gross, and no amount of animosity I have for them can change how mortifed I am. I do have at least a semblance of a conscience.
So...AITA for all of this? WIBTA if I did nothing about the other two cucumbers? Please help.
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Okay, so, I need to talk about the relationship between Persona 5's ending and Persona 5 royal's ending, because I think it isn't discussed enough how one puts into question the themes of the other and in doing so it elevates everything that came before.
Spoilers are coming, you've been warned.
The main thing that's given me an outlet to think about this is a few quotes from the Phantom Thieves when they're in the Velvet Room after being Thanos-snapped by Yaldabaoth. Specifically these quotes:
Ann: "I... I never want anyone to have to go through what I did!"
Yusuke: "Just as art is meant to break boundaries, people should be saved even if they frown upon it. I won't allow the justice I believe in to be shaken any further!"
Ryuji: "We're doin' this to make sure people don't go through the same crap we did. It doesn't matter if they think we're just or not. We gotta do what we believe in!"
Futaba: "I can't let people suffer like this, even if I don't know them personally"
They mention some core ideas: 1. They want to prevent people's suffering because of the suffering they've felt. 2. They must do this regardless of if people want it, because they think it's the right thing to do. 3. Their justice is worth fighting for by virtue of being what they believe in.
Does this seem familiar? Maybe makes you think of a certain therapist who shows up in Royal?
I think Takuto Maruki serves a decent amount of purposes narratively and thematically, but one of the most genius things about him is that he serves as a foil to both the Phantom Thieves and Akechi, and in being that foil, he is, deep down, following the principles that the Phantom Thieves fought for - In the end, it was largely Joker who inspired him to fight for his reality.
Maruki fights for a reality where suffering straight up doesn't exist, because he doesn't want anyone to feel the suffering he's had to endure. Maruki wants the Phantom Thieves and Akechi to never feel suffering anymore, regardless of their stance on the matter. He is "saving" them regardless of their wishes, and will fight them to keep the reality he wants. He thinks the world is unfair, so his "justice" is to make a perfect world for everyone - and that's what makes it worth fighting for, because that's what he believes.
Maruki's rationale to fight against the Phantom Thieves and Akechi is (partly) the same reasoning that the Phantom Thieves use to regain their motivation to fight the Holy Grail/Yaldabaoth.
So, narratively, Maruki serves as a mirror that's telling things not to be told for the Phantom Thieves to look into and to see the ugly parts of their own way of acting. Can they really fight Maruki, knowing that he is just acting how they did?
I see people sometimes refusing Maruki's reality because it "wouldn't actually work" or "it's imperfect". But as far as I'm aware, it's imperfect because it hasn't been completed yet - I think the game is a lot more interesting under the pretense that Maruki truly has the power to erase all suffering, once his reality is complete, past the deadline. I also see the argument, and even the game uses it, that Maruki's world "isn't reality". But did we listen well to Morgana's speech before he disappeared in the Yaldabaoth arc? The world itself is made up of cognition, reality is born from the points of view of everyone. Maruki *can* change reality, and the real question of the game is not about the logistics or "ontological dignity" of his reality, but rather - Do you want a world where all your wishes are granted and no suffering exists?
In the end, the game shows the Phantom Thieves that "sticking to their justice" will make them fight against people with similar ideals as theirs. It's funny, in a way, how Akechi was the one fully willing to fight Maruki from the start. His rebellion has always been more individualistic in nature than the Phantom Thieves' - he wanted revenge for himself, then redemption for himself and now he wants a reality where he isn't under anyone's control anymore. To him, Shido's country, Yaldabaoth's ruin and Maruki's world are all the same - Maruki just has a nicer, more therapy-speaky way of presenting his proposal, and sees people as his equals rather than as insolent masses, but his goal is the same. They're all worlds that shackle you for the "greater good". And in the end, Maruki, and Royal, force the P5 gang to become more like Akechi - to value their individuality in the face of the public's "justice".
To fight for what you believe in you will face people with the same determination as you. They will be your equals in many, many ways. In the end, you can only stick to your guns and hope that what you believe in is worth more than what they believe in.
I have a lot more to write about these topics but I'll leave it there. Maybe about the relationship between Maruki's reality and individuality next? That could be fun ^^
Btw - Special thanks to @thedaythatwas for inspiring me to write up stuff about Persona 5 Royal!
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starcurtain · 3 days
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My favorite brand of Ratiorine is definitely:
"They both experienced immediate attraction upon seeing the other and are (silently) interested in the possibility of pursuing a relationship, regardless of their differences and the difficulties of their situations."
But also:
"Despite being two of the most hyper-competent people in the universe, they are absolutely idiot4idiot when it comes to romance or discussing their feelings, and they are about to make their complete inability to express themselves and court like normal people into everybody's problem."
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cherryredstars · 1 day
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Hi cherry!
I've been trying to send you this and overthinking about it for a while because I'm very shy to ask, and the thought of you ignoring it eats me up..
Could you please write about dadbod Miguel in his wedding night with fem reader; trying to fit his fat dick in her, but it just won't, and she's very shy about it?
You can end it however you like bc I don't have any idea tbh
Thanks! ♥︎
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fingering, Penetrative Sex
A/N: Here you are, love!
Unedited
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The silk and lace are long forgotten.
It’s a layered pile of pure white, an obscure amount of money reduced to pesky fabric on a hotel floor. It’s vastly unimportant in the face of Miguel’s flaming touch on your skin, engulfing every inch of exposed flesh.
Your body arches, soft gasps spilling from your lips as he trails kisses along your neck, his hands finding the wetness between your thighs. He fits perfectly against you: his head resting comfortably in the space where your neck and shoulder meet, the pudge of his stomach resting against your own, his fingers just thick enough to press over your clit entirely and stretch your entrance, his hand holding yours and causing your matching rings to clink together.
The only thing that won’t fit is his dick.
You whimper as he continues to stretch you out, fighting through the past few orgasms. But no matter how wet you are or how many fingers he squeezes into your warm heat, he finds that it’s not nearly enough. Every attempt he makes at slipping into you, he’s met with a persistent resistance that refuses to give before he can fit himself fully inside.
“M-Miggy,” you hiccup, squeezing his hand tight, “It’s not gonna-”
Miguel grunts, trying to thrust forward, only to apologize hurriedly when you sob at the pain. Your walls clamp sharply around him, warning that there is no where else to go. It causes him to hiss, eyes closing in bliss before he pulls back slightly and back in. You let out a watery moan, your other hand coming to his back.
“It’s okay, mi vida,” Miguel murmurs into your skin, leaning down to kiss at the tears running down your flaming cheeks. “I promise I’ll still make it feel good.”
You choke on your next hiccup as he slowly thrusts into you as far as he can go, stretching you wide and adjusting your position to be flush with the rest of his body.
“Not gonna stop me from showing how much I love m’wife.”
At the reassurance and the pleasurable thrusting, you find all your worries start to disappear. Everything begins to fade, and you’re reminded of why you married this man. You love him. You love him, you love him, you love him.
And you fit together in all the ways that matter.
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nina-ya · 1 day
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Hey! I love the 3 times you tried to confess and the time it finally works. The story you did for Sanji. I'm interested in how it would go with Zoro. Please and thank you 😁
Three Times You Tried to Confess to Zoro and The One Time That You Did
A/N: HIIII i had so much fun writing this i hope you love this just as much as i do!! And thank you @tetzoro for letting me bounce my ideas off of you!! Pairing: Zoro x reader CW: Mild onigashima spoilers in the last two chunks. WC: 1.8k
You had spent the entire day psyching yourself up to confess to Zoro. Another serene day at sea had finally come and it seemed that nothing could ruin this moment. You were sitting in the crows nest, accompanying Zoro as he worked out.
As he completed another set, Zoro paused to catch his breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. He looked at you, curiosity evident in his features. “You’ve been awfully quiet today.,” he remarked.
You smiled nervously, feeling the butterflies in your stomach start to flutter. “Yeah, just thinking,” you replied, the nervousness accidentally peeking in your tone. 
Zoro nodded, picking up his water bottle taking a swig from it. He placed the water bottle down before asking, “What’s on your mind?” 
You took a deep breath as you tried to steady your heart. Now was your chance. This was your moment to say what’s on your mind. “I uh…” you trailed off, words evading you. He was staring at you at this point, wondering what you had to say. You decided to just rip off the bandage and say it. “Zoro I l-”
The hatch to the crows nest swung open and Sanji's head popped up, that beaming smile on his face interrupting your words. “There you are!” he exclaimed, climbing up with a tray in his hands. He waltzed over to you, flashing that charming smile of his before declaring, “I made a special treat for you. Thought you might like something that’s just as sweet as you are.”
You glanced at the tray, which held an intricately made dessert, made specially for you. You took the treat off the tray, thanking him. “Oh, thank you, Sanji. That’s very kind of you.” 
Sanji’s smile widened and you swear you could see heart eyes forming by the second. “Anything for you, my dear,” he said with a wink. 
You felt your face heat up; not from the behavior from Sanji, rather from the frustration of your confession being interrupted. You still smiled at him, hiding your displeasure. Before you could say anything, though, you noticed Zoro’s expression darken. He scowled at Sanji, his fists balling up.
“Oi, curly-brow,” Zoro growled, “we were in the middle of something.” Sanji straightened up, his eyes narrowing. “Is that so, marimo? I didn’t notice anything important.”
Zoro took a step forward. “Yeah, well if you weren’t always butting in where you’re not wanted–”
Sanji bristled, taking a step closer to Zoro. “And maybe if you-”
The tension in the room escalated rapidly as the two began to bicker and go head on. You quietly backed out of the crows nest, leaving the two to their argument. You’d find another moment, you told yourself. One where you could have Zoro’s undivided attention, without the interference of well-meaning crewmates.
- - - You had been waiting for the right moment to confess your feelings to Zoro. The shared moments, the silent understandings, the ephemeral glances had all accumulated to this built up courage. Now seemed more perfect than ever– the waters were calm, there were no signs of danger approaching the ship, and you’re sitting right next to the man who you hope to call your lover.
“Zoro,” you began, your voice quiet, but steady. He turned his head slightly, acknowledging you with a grunt with his gaze focused on the gorgeous orange golds of the sunset that painted the sky as the sun made its descent. You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts and more importantly, your courage. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
You glanced down at the deck below, eyes following the patterns of the wood with your eyes as you attempted to remain calm. The words you had rehearsed so many times in the mirror seemed to just turn into mush, and your throat suddenly felt dry. You glanced back at Zoro, only to see him still looking at the sunset.
“I…I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now,” you continued, your voice carrying a tremor. “It’s just that… spending all this time with you, I’ve come to realize how much you mean to me.”
You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, and your eyes darted around, refusing to focus on him in fear of possible rejection. Your heart was running a marathon, and the anticipation nearly killed you. You had imagined this moment so many times, but now that was happening, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anxiety and you could only hope that he felt the same.
“I… I think I lo–”
A soft sound interrupted your words. You paused, not daring to look up to confirm your suspicions. That sound can’t possibly be… You looked up and saw Zoro sitting beside you, his head tilted slightly forward, eyes shut and a peaceful expression on his face as he snored. Your heart filled with an immense disappointment that his need for sleep had stolen your moment, but you couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of relief knowing that the pressure of the confession was momentarily lifted off of your shoulders for another day. - - - Zoro lay unconscious, his body battered and bruised from the fight with King. Chopper was working frantically, his small hives moving quickly to stabilize Zoro’s injuries. You were right there by his side, your heart heavy with worry. 
You couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down your face as you watched chopper tend to him. His face was pale and his breaths came in shallow uneven rasps. The sight tore at your heart.  “Zoro,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “You have to pull through. You always do. You’re the strongest person I know, and I need you to keep being that strong.’
Chopper glanced up at you, his eyes filled with concern, “He’s tough. He’ll make it. He’s just got a lot of internal injuries that I need to focus on,” he muttered in concentration.
You reached out and gently took Zoro’s hand, your own fingers trembling. “Zoro, I love you,” you said, your voice cracking. “And I need to say that to you while you’re awake and can hear me, so you better pull through, goddammit.”
Chopper’s hands faltered for just a moment, his eyes widening in surprise. He looked up at you as he said, “W-well, it’s about time you admitted it.” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle through the tears at Chopper's comment. “Was it really that obvious?” you asked, your tears dripping off your chin and falling onto yours and Zoro's clasped hand.
“Yes, it was.” Chopper started. “It’s also obvious how he loves you too. So I’m going to focus now so that I can get him conscious for you.”
You nodded at Chopper, and you shifted so you were by Zoro's head. You leaned down, resting your forehead against his as you declared in a whisper, “I love you, Zoro.” Your tears mixed with the sweat, blood and grime on his skin as you continued, “I should have told you sooner. I should have told you a thousand times. But I’ll tell you now, and I will tell you again when you wake up, and I will tell it to you until it is my dying words.” - - - The days following Kaido's defeat were filled with joy and celebration by everybody on Wano. Everybody except for you. Your heart was filled with anxiousness as you waited day by day, hoping that Zoro would wake up. You had taken on the task to spend most of the last couple of days by Zoro and Luffy’s side. This was just your excuse to be close to Zoro so you would be right there the moment he woke up.
You noticed a slight movement. Zoro’s fingers twitched, and his eyelids fluttered. You leaned forward, your heart racing. “Zoro?” 
His eye slowly opened, a groan escaping his lips as he adjusted to the light. He blinked a few times before his gaze settled on you. “Hey,” he croaked, his voice hoarse from days of disuse.
Tears welled up in your eyes as relief flooded you. “You’re awake,” you whispered, a smile breaking across your face.
He tried to sit up, but you gently pushed him back down. “Take it easy, you’ve been through a lot.” you said softly. Zoro’s head turned and his focus landed on Luffy, who was still unconscious besides him. “Luffy?” he asked, his concern evident. “He’s still resting,” you replied. “Chopper says he’ll be fine. You both just need some time to heal.” Zoro nodded, his gaze returning to you. “You stayed here?”
“Of course,” you said, your voice trembling. “I couldn’t leave you. Not after everything.”
There was a moment of silence, and Zoro shifted slightly to get more comfortable. “You look exhausted,” he said. “Have you been getting any rest?”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Not really. I was too worried about you.”
A smirk tugged at Zoro’s Lips. “You know you don’t have to worry about me so much. I’m tougher than I look.”
You gave him a half hearted smile, running your fingers through his hair. “I know. But it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”
Zoro's gaze softened, and he reached out, taking your hand in his. Your heart pounded at the gesture, and you took a deep breath, feeling the words rise to your lips. “Zoro, I…” He looked at you, raising an eyebrow as your demeanor suddenly shifted at your own words. It was then that you finally ripped off the band-aid. “I love you, Zoro,” you blurted out, unable to contain it any longer. “I love you so much, and I should have told you a long time ago when I first realized it. But now I just need you to know how much you mean to me and how much I care about you.”
For a moment, Zoro was silent, his eye searching yours. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, the kind of smile that you could only hope to pull out of him more in the future. “You took your time,” he said, his tone teasing yet tender. 
You laughed through your tears, the sound a combination of relief and joy. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
Zoro's grip on your hand tightened, his eye never leaving yours. “I love you too,” he declared. “I always have. I just… didn’t know how to say it.”
You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Well, now we both know.”
A content sigh escaped his lips, and that teasing edge made an appearance once again as he said “you missed, by the way.”
You looked at him confused for a moment before you realized he meant the kiss. You chuckled and leaned in, brushing your lips against his as you whispered, “I love you so much.” His eye fluttered closed as he kissed you back, his lips soft and warm against yours. In that moment, you knew that your heart had chosen the right man to be the love of your life.
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megalony · 2 days
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I Need To Help You- Part 2
This is a follow up to my Eddie Diaz imagine, thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part. I hope you will all like this one.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana
@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits
Part 1
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Summary: (Y/n) hasn't been feeling well lately, and when she gets worse while Eddie is at work, Chris has to call him to come home and help.
Enjoy.
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"How far along were you, roughly?"
Leaning forward, (Y/n) crumpled her chest over until it was almost touching her thighs with her arms bound around her middle and her forehead tipped down on her knees. A groan tumbled past her lips and she rode out the tremors that started to rise back through her system again.
Why was nobody listening to her? Why was everyone presuming she was lying to them? Could nobody see this from her point of view? This was the third person to come into their room and start asking the same questions they had answered the first time around when they got here.
"I don't know! Why aren't you l-listening to me?" Uncurling one hand from her stomach, (Y/n) reached behind her and clamped her hand down around Eddie's wrist when he held onto her shoulder. He sat down just behind her on the bed and leaned forward to kiss the back of her neck.
"Do you think we would of had no antenatal care if we knew she was pregnant? Or that we'd have a home birth with no midwife and no fucking help? Until she gave birth we didn't know she was pregnant."
They would have gone to antenatal check ups and had scans and gotten themselves prepared for this if they knew. They wouldn't leave everything until the day (Y/n) gave birth and hope for the best. This wasn't their idea of a joke and it was far from a practical situation.
"W-where is she?" (Y/n) lifted her head up just enough to do a sweep around the room. She felt like she had blacked out when they brought her through the emergency room and into this room. She hadn't realised Hen had left the room until a few minutes later when she suddenly didn't hear her baby's cries anymore. And that had been near enough half an hour ago since they arrived and their daughter still wasn't back yet.
Hen had rode in the back of the ambulance with (Y/n) and Eddie while Chimney drove the ambulance. Bobby had taken the truck back to the station with Buck and Chris who were heading back to Eddie's house now so Buck could watch Chris until tomorrow. And Bobby had done a quick hand over with the B shift and was now on his way here to check how they were all getting on.
"She's gone to get weighed and checked over, then we'll bring her back to you. Your exam looked fine, nothing retained and the bleeding stopped before you arrived which is good. I'm going to give you some pain relief and a few things to level out your system and combat the shock."
"I wanna go home."
(Y/n) couldn't help the whine that burned at the back of her throat and she turned her head to the side to bury her face in Eddie's neck. Her arm looped around the back of his neck and she pushed herself into his chest until he practically pulled her into his lap.
(Y/n) didn't want to stay here. She had been checked out and their daughter was being looked after. But now she wanted to go home. (Y/n) wanted to get some morphine and go home and curl up with Eddie, Chris and their sudden, new addition.
"We can't go home yet-"
"Eddie, please, please." Tears continued to burn down her face as she clutched at Eddie tighter as if gripping onto him for dear life would make him change his mind.
"No, mi amor you've just had a baby, we're staying here. You're gonna be fine, I'm not leaving you here alone." He smoothed his hand up and down her arm, gently swaying them from side to side. He couldn't take her home no matter how desperately he wanted to, but Eddie wasn't going to run off and leave (Y/n) here on her own. He was staying with her until he could take her and their baby back home safe and sound.
"We would like to keep you in overnight for observation and to make sure baby can take her first feed properly, you both need a bit of TLC."
(Y/n) didn't answer. She knew she wasn't being asked, she was being told and she could understand keeping the baby here for a while. She had been a surprise, there could be any number of complications wrong with her and she needed to be watched so they could ensure she would be okay to go home. But (Y/n) didn't want to stay.
"I'll go fetch a nurse to give you the shots and set you up with some fluids." The doctor smiled at them weakly before she turned and headed out the room, leaving the door open when she passed someone outside.
"How are we doing?" Bobby rapped his knuckles on the door and poked his head round, grinning softly when Eddie waved him inside.
He was family, with Eddie's family being back in Texas and his relationship with his own dad being strained, Bobby was almost a surrogate father to him and most of the team. He didn't have to stand and lurk in doorways waiting for permission to come in. Bobby walked over and sat down in the chair on the right side of the bed. And he leaned across to rest his hand comfortingly on (Y/n)'s knee.
"I feel sick." (Y/n) grumbled quietly as she shifted around on the bed. She crossed her legs beneath her and slumped her back up against Eddie's chest, smiling weakly when Eddie's arms curled around her waist. He rubbed his hands soothingly over her aching stomach and pressed his lips to the top of her head with a small smile.
"I can imagine… right, now I've brought some of the paperwork with me to finish up while I stay with you and make sure you're both alright." Bobby didn't want to bombard either of them if they were in too much shock to think and go over things right now. But he suspected that they would want something to take their minds off of things and it would keep them all occupied.
Bobby knew (Y/n) didn't do well in hospitals. He had restrained (Y/n) with Eddie on more than one occasion when she tried to discharge herself from the hospital even though she had been in bad condition. And either way right now, Bobby wasn't going anywhere so he could fill some other forms in if they weren't up to it yet.
He was staying until (Y/n) was checked onto a ward and the baby was given the all clear. Then he would have to make a few calls and sort some cover shifts since Eddie would now be going on leave.
Eddie nodded and ran a hand over his jaw and chin before he went back to keeping his arms tight around (Y/n), holding her into his chest. He began swaying them from left to right as he watched Bobby.
Bobby rummaged around in his pocket for a pen and set all the papers he brought with him down on the little pull across table. He could fill out the incident report on his own when he was back at the station, but he needed to write a few things down now and get ready for Eddie's time off.
There was protocols to follow whenever a family member was taken to hospital or treated out on a call, and (Y/n) was family. And they had to write up what happened on their calls to prove they gave the right treatment, just in case anyone tried to sue.
"You didn't know you were pregnant, right? I just need to be sure."
"No… I thought I was having a prolapse." (Y/n) huffed and glanced down at her hands as she spoke. But keeping her eyes open felt too hard and she was too exhausted to be embarrassed.
She let her eyes close and snuggled down against Eddie's chest, clinging to his arms that were wrapped around her chest and waist. She needed whatever comfort she could get right now and her body was still shaking and spasming in his arms.
She didn't suspect she might be even one month pregnant. She had been waiting just over a month or so for her latest period to happen but she was usually random and late so it wasn't a big deal. Clearly, what she thought was a short period had been spotting during the pregnancy. (Y/n) would have told Eddie if she suspected anything. They had talked, briefly, about starting a family and if she thought that was happening she would have told him.
When the pains got worse (Y/n) thought she was having a prolapse or having some kind of blockage or a hernia. A baby didn't cross her mind at all.
"Okay," Bobby's voice was soft and he briefly gave (Y/n)'s knee a squeeze while he jotted a few more notes down.
This was mainly to cover themselves and so he could get Eddie some emergency annual leave approved. They were supposed to give four weeks notice for any leave they wanted but Eddie couldn't have done that in this situation and he undoubtedly needed time to be home with his family right now.
(Y/n) reached down to grab Eddie's hand and started to mess around with his fingers. She swirled the wedding ring around a few times and traved the pad of her finger up and down his hand with a feather-like touch.
"I don't think the Chief will have a problem with you're early leave. I've approved you for two weeks, if you need any more than that just let me know. I'll pinch someone from another station to cover your shifts."
Bobby hastily wrote a little paragraph, trying to keep his hand steady as possible. It didn't have to be long-winded, his incident report would be long enough and contain all the details. But he needed a brief summary and once Eddie signed off on it, he would be on annual leave as of now.
"I'm sure Maddie will help you get your maternity leave from work, but if you need me to do anything in that regard, I'd be happy to."
A quiet groan left (Y/n)'s lips as she pushed further back into Eddie, feeling tears tracing down the bridge of her nose at the thought of work.
She was supposed to be on shift at dispatch in the morning. She hadn't even told Maddie what had happened or had chance to get hold of Sue and explain that she wouldn't be on shift for the next few months. How was she going to explain this?
'Sorry I can't come into work, I've had a baby?'
No one was going to believe her. They would think she was crazy or had tried to hide the pregnancy. Maddie wasn't going to believe this and (Y/n) had a feeling Buck would have rung her by now anyway to give the gossip and explain what their little sister had gone and done.
"They'll fire me." She mewled, letting the tears splash down her face as she smothered her face into Eddie's arm and curled her knees up to her aching stomach that was on fire.
"No they won't, mi amor."
"How could I not h-have known?"
Tears continued to stream down (Y/n)'s face and the trembling in her system got worse. Eddie pulled his lower lip between his teeth as his cheek brushed against the top of her head. He held her tighter, trying his best to comfort her as he hushed her quietly.
"It happens, baby. Sue will understand, I'll talk to her, don't worry." Eddie had always gotten along with Sue down at dispatch and he knew she was the understanding type.
She would immediately understand because she knew (Y/n) and had seen her every week when she was at work. She had clearly seen that (Y/n) didn't look pregnant and that she hadn't told anyone or acted like she was and she would see that this wasn't some great scheme. Sue would understand their predicament and approve (Y/n)'s leave and try to help where she could.
Bobby put his paperwork away before he reached out and rubbed (Y/n)'s arm affectionately.
"I'll speak to Sue in the morning, I can get the doctor to fax her a report from tonight and your medical history. That will show you haven't received any antenatal care and Sue will need to approve you for maternity leave, it won't be an issue."
(Y/n) managed to open her eyes that were still watering when she looked across at Bobby. He would do that for them? He would speak to the doctor and Sue and try to sort this so they didn't have to worry? Affection flooded her eyes and she tried to smile his way, despite how her head was fogging over and she just knew once she was given that morphine, she would be out like a light.
She only wished they could have done this pregnancy ordeal in the usual fashion.
Things would have been so much easier if they'd of only known about the baby beforehand. Why did (Y/n)'s body have to be different and conceal this little fact- this little life- from her like a surprise present she wasn't supposed to know about?
Why couldn't she have known before now? Eight months of nothing and then all of a sudden, she was landed with a baby in her arms.
***
"Okay?" Eddie's lips attached to the side of (Y/n)'s head and his hands found her arms, giving a gentle squeeze as he walked up behind her. His chest merged against her back and he smiled softly against her skin when she let herself lean back into him.
"It feels like a dream." Her head tilted back on his shoulder but her eyes wouldn't drift away from the newborn in her arms.
It was too strange to be real.
They were about to walk into their home with a baby. (Y/n) still couldn't believe this weight in her arms was her own little girl; her own version of her and Eddie. This was their baby that they were bringing home.
She wasn't going to be back at work for a few months now. She was going to be home looking after Chris and Bella. No more sleep-filled nights. No more time to themselves when Chris was at school and they were off work. Everything was going to be revolving around the kids now, they were going to be looking after a newborn, not just a nine year old.
A worried smile pulled at her lips when Eddie wormed his arms around her, keeping one arm glued to her waist while the other hand carefully rested over Bella who was snuggled into (Y/n)'s arms.
The further they walked up the path, the more trepidation (Y/n) could feel swirling in her stomach, taking over her body. Were they ready for this? What if (Y/n) couldn't do this? What if she wasn't going to be a good mother to a newborn? Chris was different, she had been in his life since he was almost five years old and for the last four years she had taken on the role as his mum.
She had looked after Chris since he was little more than a toddler. She'd never been around when he was born or had much experience with looking after newborns.
This was all foreign territory to her.
"Eddie, we don't have anything ready for her-"
"I'll sort it, I promise, mi amor. Let's just get inside first." He knew (Y/n) had been through enough, he didn't want her to stand around and panic any longer. He would sort everything, Bobby had already given him two weeks off and Buck had today off. Buck would be more than happy to stay with (Y/n) and Chris so Eddie could head out and get everything they would need for Bella.
She stepped back into Eddie, eyes wide when the front door opened before she could even ask Eddie for his key.
Chris was stood on the other side of the door, a bright smile on his face, so wide that he could barely keep his eyes open. And before he uttered one word, Chris pushed forward and barracaded his arms around (Y/n)'s waist with his face meshed into her stomach just beneath her arms. His hands scrunched up in Eddie's waist and he giggled before he tilted his head back and carefully peeked at the bundle in her arms.
He had briefly seen Bella yesterday, but not for long.
After the whole debacle, Chris barely slept, he and Buck had spent most of the night watching movies in the lounge, both too hyped to go to sleep. Then Buck had taken Chris down to see (Y/n) and his new little sister before they both came back home for the rest of the day. Chris hadn't slept much last night either, too excited that his parents and new sibling would be coming back home in the morning. And Chris had been telling everyone he could that his mum had had a surprise baby, and now, finally, they were all going to be back home.
"You're home!"
"We are, now can you let us in?" Eddie quipped back with a smirk plastered across his face and he reached out to ruffle Chris's wild curls that clearly hadn't seen a brush this morning.
Chris whined quietly but he obliged and shuffled back, still keeping his arms about both parents so it looked like he was dragging them in the house.
"There you are, how are you feeling?"
A smile fluttered over (Y/n)'s lips when her brother came into her sights. He reeled an arm around her waist, pulling her out of Eddie's embrace and into his own. Careful not to nudge or squish the newborn in her arms. He grinned down at Bella, brushing his thumb across her cheek. She had been awake and wriggling around yesterday when Buck held her for the first time and he was so proud, just like he was when Jee had been born.
"Rough," (Y/n) mumbled back, but her smile was enough to tell her brother she wasn't upset or distraught. She was coping as well as she could be right now.
She leaned around Buck when a movement caught her eye and her lips quirked up when she noticed her sister hurrying out the kitchen towards them. (Y/n) hadn't talked to Maddie yet, but she knew Buck had told her what had happened. No one had spoken to their parents yet though, (Y/n) wasn't ready to brave that phone call just yet.
"Hi!" Maddie reached out and wrapped (Y/n) up in a tender hug, keeping an air of space between them to be careful of the newborn who was just beginning to stir.
"Now do you believe me?"
"No, no I don't think so." A bright grin spread across Maddie's face and she cooed down at the little girl before stretching her arms down, silently begging for a cuddle of her first niece. "I still can't get over this."
She had seen her sister no more than five days ago and Maddie didn't have the slightest inkling that she had been pregnant. (Y/n) didn't look, feel or act as if she might have been close to giving birth and Maddie couldn't imagine the trauma this had created. Being in so much pain and not understanding why. Giving birth on her own with her son frightened in the next room and her family on their way to help her.
It was a relief to everyone that (Y/n) and the baby were both okay, so many things could have gone wrong that night.
"We have a surprise." Chris grinned up at Eddie and wrapped his arms around his dad's waist before he looked over at Buck. "Can we show them now?" He had waited all morning for them to come home and now they were here, Chris didn't want to wait any longer to show them what the three of them had been up to all day yesterday.
"Go ahead."
Chris grabbed (Y/n)'s hand and started tugging until she relented and slowly followed him down the hall. She felt Eddie's hands on her waist and his lips against the back of her head as they headed down the hall, being dragged along by Chris. Buck was close behind with Maddie beside him and Bella asleep in her arms.
"What are you doing?" Eddie mumbled softly when he noticed Chris aim for the study rather than his or even their bedroom.
Chris began laughing, swaying his and (Y/n)'s entwined hands back and forth while he slowly opened the door to the study and dragged them inside. A loud 'surprise' flew past his lips and he stood, practically vibrating like a rocket about to launch in the middle of the room.
(Y/n) couldn't breathe. All the air disappeared from her lungs and her free hand moved to grab Eddie's wrist, but she could feel him right behind her. His chest tensed and pushed out into her back and his fingers dug into her hips when he looked around the room.
How had they done this in the space of one day?
"You- Jesus, Buck." His words were affectionate, coming out in a breathless huff as he looked over his shoulder. Eyes wide, jaw dropped, shoulders sagging down.
"Now we couldn't get everything sorted, and we weren't sure what colour scheme you'd want, but Chris picked out the stickers and we thought it was better than messing about re-painting the walls." Buck clapped a hand down on Eddie's shoulder while he looked around the room, shoulders tense and chest tight with apprehension.
He didn't want them to feel like he and Maddie had tried to take over, but they wanted to do something to help.
They knew Eddie and (Y/n) would be struggling now they were home. They would have to sort this room into a nursery, buy everything they needed for Bella. Nappies, bottles, clothes, pram, all of that for a start without thinking of the cot or the wipes and accessories and all the necessities they would need. It was a lot.
It was something they should have had the last eight months to sort out slowly, over time. But with how sudden Bella made her arrival, Buck and Maddie thought they should at least lend a hand.
The study was a pale cream, a dusty vanilla shade that actually looked quite nice once the room was cleared out. There had only been a desk and chair, a computer and a few shelves and ornaments on units.
Now though, the room was reinvented.
(Y/n) bit her lip as she looked around, doing slow circles from left to right, taking in the expanse of the room.
Large Winnie The Pooh wall stickers were dotted around the room, various pictures of Winnie with a red balloon, Tigger, Piglet and Eeyore all dancing around the walls. There was a cot on the right side of the room, the old chest of drawers that used to be unused beneath the window was now opposite the cot. And stacks of clothes ranging from mini socks, pull ups, onesies, mittens, bibs and dresses were all neatly stacked and lined up in front of the cot.
Maddie didn't want to put any of the clothes away in case (Y/n) didn't want them all. She thought it would be best to let her sister go through everything and decide what she wanted and what she didn't like.
The nicnacs had been rearranged, most of them taken out of the room. There were teddies in the cot and a few on the shelves. (Y/n) recognised the selection of teddies from her and Eddie's room, the teddies she and Buck had had since they were little which (Y/n) never brought herself to get rid of. And there were a few toys in the cot that she knew belonged to Chris, which he was graciously donating to his little sister.
"Is this okay? Did we do good?" Buck began to run his hands up and down his thighs when neither Eddie nor (Y/n) said anything. They just looked around in wonder like they had walked into Narnia.
"Mum?" Chris continued to bounce up and down, pushing up on his toes and then sinking back down on his heels as he eagerly awaited a response.
He wasn't quite expecting his mum to deadlock her arms around him and drag him into her arms. Her face buried in his curls and he froze for a second when he realised she was crying. But when he felt her kiss his temple, repeating 'thank you, baby' into his hair, he began to giggle. And he was more than eager when she let him go and Eddie reeled him in for a cuddle.
"You- you didn't have to… thank you."
(Y/n) hated the way she trembled when she reached out and wrapped her arms around her big brother. She pulled Buck close and buried her face in his chest, feeling her tears soaking into his shirt, but he just held her tighter. He bound his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head, smiling broadly as if he had just heard news that he was being commemorated for something.
"Anything for you." He wanted to help. He wanted to make himself useful and do something nice for his sister. He didn't want her and Eddie to struggle or panic and anything he could do to make things easier for them, he would.
Easing Bella into her left arm, Maddie reached out and gave (Y/n)'s shoulder a light squeeze as she stepped close to her two siblings.
"It's mostly Jee's old stuff, if you don't mind second-hand? And everyone at the station had a few baby clothes they were more than happy to give. They said call it belated baby shower gifts."
Maddie had agreed immediately when Buck called and asked if she would help him and Chris sort out a nursery for their sister. She had kept Jee's cot and some of her baby clothes and a few toys and dummies and little nicnacs that had all been boxed up. She didn't find it likely that she and Chimney would be having another baby, at least not anytime soon. So she was more than happy to hand most of the stuff over to her little sister to help them out.
And Hen and Karen had a lot of things they had given to Buck since they fostered all different aged kids and had clothes piled up for emergency placements.
"Thank you, this really means a lot." Eddie kept his right arm looped around Chris's shoulders while he reached over and pulled Buck into a hug.
They had saved him and (Y/n) a lot of panicking and rushing about, it was a hefty weight off of their shoulders. Barely two days old and already their little girl was spoiled.
***
Eddie leaned his head around the living room door and took a peek inside. He rose a brow and slowly padded across towards the sofa, taking in the sight of his family. Maddie was curled up on the armchair with Jee perched on her lap, both of them relaxed and looking like they were about to fall asleep.
Chimney was on the other armchair, playing another game of cards with Buck even though Chris had long since given up playing against them and toddled off to his room.
When his eyes landed on his wife, Eddie's smile softened and his arms folded over his chest. (Y/n) was laid on the sofa next to Buck, her legs over his lap, Bella snuggled down on her chest and a blanket over the pair of them. Both girls were fast asleep.
"Comfy?" Eddie murmured, looking across at Buck who was slouched down on the sofa, keeping his cards close to his chest since he kept demanding Chimney was cheating.
"Yep."
Eddie nodded while he crouched down beside the sofa and looked down at Bella. She was probably due another feed now and he would rather do that than wake (Y/n).
He muttered a soft "Come here baby," and eased Bella into his arms as carefully as he could, trying not to wake (Y/n) rather than the newborn. His lips attached to the top of her head and he gently started to sway from one side to the next. He knew he would have to wake (Y/n) soon when the food arrived, but he wanted to let her sleep a bit longer.
Chimney had finished work, picked up Jee and come straight down to see them all and they all decided to have a family night and eat tea together.
When he heard Chris's bedroom door swing open, Eddie turned and moved towards the hall. His brows furrowed and his lips stayed meshed against his daughter's temple, keeping her bundled up against his chest as he looked over at his son.
"Dad!"
"What's up bud?"
"Nan and pops don't believe me! Tell them about Bella!"
A quiet groan rumbled past Eddie's lips and he tilted his head back, mentally cursing Chris for ringing them already. He knew Chris wouldn't be able to refrain from telling everyone, but Eddie had hoped he wouldn't call his parents just yet.
He had been so focused on trying to get (Y/n) and Bella home and sorting the house that he hadn't called his parents yet. There had been far too much going on and all the team and family popping by. They hadn't even been home a full day yet, Eddie wanted today to be home and try to get settled. He had planned to call his parents first thing in the morning and tell them the surprise news because he knew they would be on a plane down here the moment they knew.
Jugging Bella into the crook of his left arm, Eddie reached out and took the phone from Chris, muttering a soft "Go supervise uncle Buck." and watched as Chris happily hurried off.
He had called his grandparents in his room because he knew Eddie would tell him not to, but he wanted them to know. He wanted to be the one to explain that (Y/n) had had a baby and Chris now had a little sister. He wanted to tell them because Chris knew they would come down and visit for sure now.
"Eddie, sweetheart." His mum smiled so brightly it caused Eddie to smile in response.
He held the phone up to his face and slowly headed into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on.
"Hi ma, you both okay?" He could scarcely see his dad in the corner of the camera, trying his best to lean in and look at his son.
"What's Chris going on about? Is (Y/n) pregnant? Are you going to have a baby?" The anticipation in his mum's voice made Eddie's heart soften and explode at the same time.
He could see the hope swelling up in her eyes and her red lips were curved into such a wide grin that made Eddie feel bad. He wished they had known about Bella beforehand. He wished he could be giving his mum the news in the proper way, telling her and sending her a scan picture and having time to get things ready. His parents weren't going to take this news lightly, the shock would settle in quick, he knew it.
His mum had gathered from Chris that (Y/n) had to be pregnant, but Chris kept rushing through his words because he was so happy. And when he said (Y/n) had had a baby, they thought he was getting mixed up with his words. They had talked to (Y/n) and Eddie only two weeks ago, and they said nothing about being pregnant.
"How far along is she? Chris kept saying you've got a baby girl, he was getting confused, bless him."
"Uh, no papi… um, (Y/n) wasn't well Friday night," He tilted his head back and tried to gather some unknown strength from somewhere. He couldn't help but wince when he looked back down at his parents. "She went into labour and had a baby Friday night."
"I- I'm sorry?"
"Edmundo, why didn't you tell us?"
"I didn't know! The doctor called it a cryptic pregnancy, we had no idea she was pregnant. We just got home today, I uh, I guess Chris was too excited to wait to tell you."
He had never seen his mother's jaw hang so loose before. Her wide brown eyes were watering up and she smothered her open mouth with her palm while she leaned to the side into her husband. Whereas his dad was sat with furrowed brows and a curled upper lip. He removed his glasses and ran a hand across his face, trying to process what he was being told.
"Is she okay? Is the baby okay?" A flurry of other words fell past his mother's lips but Eddie couldn't work them all out.
To stop her from rambling on, Eddie slowly tilted the phone down, panning the screen along his plain black shirt before the camera finally settled on the bundle in his arms. Bella was curled up in his arm, both her hands hidden in mittens, arms curled to her chest and her knees pulled up near her tummy. Her eyes were scrunched closed and her button nose was twitched up while her cheek nuzzled into Eddie's shirt.
"Meet Isabella," Softness melted around the edges of his voice and he could hear his mother gasping and a quiet sound rumbled past his father's lips. His dad had never been so quiet and dumb-struck before.
He twisted to lean his hips back against the counter and crossed one leg over the other while he pulled Bella up a bit higher so she was cuddled against his upper chest. Allowing Eddie to see his parents on screen again but also keep Bella within their sights so they could fawn over their granddaughter.
"Chris wasn't joking," This was the first time in a long while that Eddie had seen his father tear up.
"They're both doing great, considering the shock. The doctor said she's perfectly healthy and (Y/n)'s doing great."
"Can- can we come down, visit you all?" There was something hidden in his mother's voice, as if she thought Eddie would tell her no.
His parents hadn't been over to LA since Eddie first moved here. He, Chris and (Y/n) had always made trips down to Texas to see them because it was convenient and easier for them all. But now, with a newborn and a lot of stuff to sort out, his parents coming here was going to be their easiest option.
"We'd love that."
Eddie propped the phone up against the coffee cannister and began prepping a bottle single-handed while Bella stayed in his left arm. He chimed in whenever his parents asked him a question and he smiled brightly when he could hear his mum cooing and trying to get a better look at the newborn. And he could already hear his dad getting his own phone out, saying how he was going to call the girls (Eddie's sisters) and tell them each the good news.
That meant Eddie would be swamped with phone calls tonight from all three of them and no doubt his sisters would be face-timing them. He knew what they were like. They had been round every day to see Chris when he had been born. They would likely send presents down here to LA if they couldn't make a trip to visit them.
When the bottle was made, Eddie tucked it under his arm and grabbed the phone, making his way back into the living room where everyone was crowded together.
"Ma and papi are on the phone, wanna say hi?" He tilted the phone down towards (Y/n) when he stood beside the sofa, noticing that she was still curled up but she was awake now. Presumably she woke up not long after he removed Bella from her arms.
His brows furrowed and his head tilted to one side when he realised (Y/n) was biting her lower lip and he could see tears hiding in her eyes. The way her nose crinkled and how she was pressing her lips together showed she looked like she wanted to cry and that made nerves spark through Eddie's chest.
But (Y/n) took the phone from him and tried to plaster a small yet somewhat exhausted smile on her face. She had always gotten along with Eddie's parents, even if his relationship with them had been strained. They felt more like parents to (Y/n) than her own parents were.
He watched (Y/n) sit up a bit straighter and Chris leaned into her side, wedged between her and Buck.
Eddie slowly moved to sit down on the floor in front of (Y/n) and leaned his back up against the sofa. He pressed the bottle to Bella's lips and started to feed her while his eyes swept around the room.
Everyone looked a little on edge now and it made his heartbeat pick up. His eyes finally settled on Maddie and he rose a brow.
"What's up?"
"I… I told mum and dad the good news."
"…Okay?"
Had they had a bad reaction? Eddie knew the Buckleys well enough to know they weren't supportive at the best of times. He had a feeling that they wouldn't be so happy or endearing about this. Part of him was sure that they wouldn't be as interested because it was (Y/n) who'd had a baby and not Maddie. They had been happy and involved when Maddie had Jee.
Maddie pursed her lips and held her daughter tighter, looking across at her little brother who had his arms crossed over his chest and a grumpy look on his face that he was trying and failing to hide.
She finally sighed and leaned forward, feeling guilty as ever for telling their parents, but (Y/n) asked her to. (Y/n) knew she needed to tell them now rather than letting any more time pass by, but she didn't have the nerve to start up that conversation. And neither did Buck. They all knew their parents were more understanding and easy going when it was Maddie they were talking to.
So she had done as she was asked and tried to calmly explain to their parents that (Y/n) had given birth despite not knowing she was pregnant.
"They're coming down for a visit."
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allllium · 1 day
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Hi! I have a Jason Todd x reader request if you’re still looking for those! A little angst, a little hurt/ comfort, a little protective Jason Todd.
Soulmate AU where soulmates can feel each others feelings. Jason is on patrol and reader is at their shared apartment when someone breaks in. Jason is not nearby so he feels a lot of feelings while he frantically tries to get home. Reader may get injured but they aren’t helpless, they fight back.
Thank you!!!
Break In
~ I hope this is what you were expecting, this was so cute to me <3
~ WC: 885 [Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort]
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- Things go wrong while he's on patrol
Jason is a man that loves with his whole heart. He falls hard but it takes a long time. Once you win him over, he's yours. Growing up the way he did Jason didn't think he'd ever meet his soulmate, not the way Dick and Tim did. As terrible as it is he always assumed you were dead - he never felt that overwhelming feeling of someone else's emotions that people had explained to him all his life. Not until he died.
No one knows why his soulmate bond didn't kick in until he had come back to life, but that's how it happened. Not only did he have to deal with his own problems of coming back but he finally had to get used to yours too. And he wouldn't change it for the world.
“What's got you smiling like that?” Dick asks, from his position on the roof of an opposite building.
“What? A man can't be happy?” Jason continues smiling to himself as patrol goes on. Feeling your relaxed state through bond makes him stay relaxed himself.
Jason usually tries to stay as close to your shared apartment as possible, his paranoia holding him on a strong leash. However, he was forced to step more out of his comfort zone tonight, due to Dick's excessive begging.
He's almost ready to begin heading home when he feels it, overwhelming fear rushing down his spine. He becomes breathless as he quickly starts running home. Not staying long enough to hear Dick's questioning.
So many thoughts are running through his head he can't quite decipher them from one another. What if you're hurt? It's fine you probably just fell or something. But if all you did was fall you wouldn't be so scared? What if someone got in? What if someone from his nightlife is targeting you? What if he doesn't make it in time?
Still, almost halfway to your apartment, he feels as if he can't breathe. He feels as if his heart's in his stomach and all of time has stopped. Suddenly he stops. All feelings of fear and dread have dropped out of his body. Instead they've been replaced with feelings of relief and humor?
Why the fuck would you be feeling humor? As soon as he's stopped, he's moving again. Moving just as fast as moments before, he reaches the apartment in only a few minutes. After running up the stairs and slamming the door open with unbelievable force, he is hit in the face with a pile of dirt?
“Oh Jay! I'm so sorry I swear I didn't mean to throw dirt in your face.” You immediately run over to him and help get the dirt specks off his face.
“Then why did you?” He asks, sounding more confused than ever before. Only once he's done talking does he see the man laying face down on your living room carpet, surrounded with broken pieces of a potted plant. “And who is that?”
“I have no idea. He kinda broke in.” You tell him, moving to clean up the dirt and leaves covering the floor.
“Broke in? Is that why you were scared? That was a dumb question, don't answer that.” He takes off his helmet and sets it on the coffee table. Right next to the smear of blood. “What happened, sweetheart?”
“I don't even know, everything happened so fast. One moment I was falling asleep on the couch and the next I was smacking a guy with Bob.”
“Oh you smacked him with Bob.” Jason sounds strangely disappointed in the death of his potted plant you named Bob.
“I'm sorry he was the closest thing to me, I didn't think about it.” You stand up from the floor to look at the mess still sitting. From this angle Jason can see the bruise starting to form on your jaw bone.
“What happened here? Did he hit you?” He questions, grabbing your hand and pulling you close enough to inspect the bruise.
“Only once, there was a little fight. But I obviously won so it's fine.”
“It's not fine princess, you got hurt. And I could feel that you were scared.”
“I'm alright Jay.” You smile at him and place your hand on the side of his face. “I handled it.”
He can feel your pride run through him. “I'm glad, but that shouldn't have happened. We're moving.”
“No the fuck we're not. I like it here.” You cross your arms over your chest and raise your eyebrows at him.
“Baby, someone broke in.”
“Good. That means it likely won't happen again.”
“That's not how it works.”
“Oh c'mon. What are the chances that happens again?”
“Too high. We'll move somewhere in the country, away from people.” You chuckle at his suggestion.
“As great as that sounds, not yet. I'm alright Jay, I promise.”
“I'm teaching you self defense.” He pulls you into a bone-crushing hug.
“Why? I did great here.” You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer.
“Because I can't promise you'll always have a Bob to protect you.”
“Fine, as long as we get to spend more time together.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart. I love you.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“I love you too Jay.” You hum into his chest.
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patscorner · 2 days
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Hey, idk if your taking requests rn but could you do an Emily Engstler x chubby reader fic where reader is in her feelings about a personal subject of your choice and they end up arguing over it? Idk just some angst and fluff please?
I don't really like how this turned out, but here you gooo
Butterflies
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Summary: When you receive hate, instead of getting the calm, gentle response from your girlfriend, you get a big ball of anger.
wc: 1,099
Contains: talks of insecurities, two kisses, that's all
______________________________
You sigh as you put your car in park. Finally, after a day in hell(at work), you were home. For some reason, everyone and their mom decided to test you today. Ranging from customers cussing you out, to Emily being cranky before you left for work, the day seemed to be giving you a break.
Even though you and your girlfriend had bickered all morning, right now, you wanted nothing more than to be in her arms. But before you do, you decide to open instagram. Bad idea. There were multiple hate comments on your post about how you looked in a bathing suit. You weren't the biggest person in the world, but you also weren't the skinniest. You've never been skinny, and you were often judged for that rather than your cheerful personality. So, like most bigger kids, you were bullied when you were younger, causing you to have low self confidence and self esteem.
Eventually, you grow to love your body, and it only gets better when you start to date Emily. She thought you were the most gorgeous person in the world, and she made sure you knew that.
Of course, it wasn't always smooth, and you had your days. Like now.
The post was from a month ago, when Emily surprised you with a trip to Mexico. Normally, they wouldn't affect you, but after the day you had, the words displayed on your screen found cracks in your armor and buried itself there, finding its way under your skin and into your heart.
You sigh heavily, blinking back tears as you get out of the car and locking it behind you. You take a deep breath as you unlock the door to your shared apartment with Emily.
You hear her yelling from the bedroom as you place your keys on the counter. You make your way into the room and see she's on the game with a couple of her teammates. “Hi, baby.” She mumbles, glancing at you before she draws her attention to the screen.
You don't say anything back, just grab your clothes and go to the bathroom to change. This sets alarms off in Emily's head, but unfortunately, the game she's playing has already put her emotions on ten and her patience on zero.
“What the fuck?” You hear her mumble. You roll your eyes, before changing and walking back out into the room. She's not on the game anymore, instead, she's sat on the end of the bed, with her arms crossed. You close your eyes and sigh when you see her, you truly don't have the patience.
“What the fuck is your problem? You came home pissed, and didn't even say hi to me.” She squinted her eyes at you.
You don't say anything, and just sit down next to her, hoping she'd relax at the sight of your need for comfort. She doesn't.
“I'm sorry. I’m not feeling the best, I was on Instagram and there were comments an-” Emily cuts you off with a laugh as she stands up.
“Are you serious? I told you to stay out of the comment sections. You're asking for it at this point.” She scoffs.
The statement takes you by surprise. Your normally gentle girlfriend was standing in front of you, her anger directed at you. “I'm ‘asking for it’?”
Then it clicks for Emily, as her eyes soften and she tries to take her statement back. “That's not what I me-”
Now it's your turn to cut her off. “Bullshit, you meant it. I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask to look like this, and I didn't ask to be treated like this either.” You stand up, a move towards the door, tears streaming down your face. You stop before you close the door and lock eyes with Emily.
Her eyes are guilty, looking down at her feet. “I'm sleeping on the couch.” You sigh. She looks up like she wants to say something, but closes her mouth instead.
“I love you.” She whispers. “I love you too.” You respond before going into the living room.
You stir in your sleep, feeling yourself being lifted from the couch. You open your eyes and look up to see Emily carrying you bridal style back to your room. “Shh, go back to sleep, ma.” She whispers, kissing your head.
You groan as she gently puts you down on your side of the bed. She mimics your actions, laying down next to you, wrapping her arms around you, so you're facing her. Sleep has left you now, and you're both just staring at each other.
“What're you doing?” You whisper. Emily's heart breaks as she takes in your features. Your eyes are red and puffy, and your hair is disheveled from the amount of times you ran your hand through it.
“Couldn't sleep.” She mumbled, pulling you closer. You melt into her arms, finally getting the embrace you needed earlier.
“I'm so sorry, baby. What I said was fucked up. I was still hype from the game, and I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.” She places an apologetic kiss on your lips, so light it was almost ghostlike.
“ ‘s okay.” You mutter.
“No it's not. I'll do better, I promise. It'll never happen again.” She said, forcing your eyes on hers. The words you read earlier flash through your mind, and your breathing hitches as you close your eyes, attempting to stop the tears, but it's no use.
She sighs as she watches you break down, and she can't help but feel like she caused some of it. She pulls you closer, her tattooed hand rubbing circles up and down your back.
“They're wrong. You are the most beautiful woman in the entire world, and I'm not gonna stop telling you, not until you believe it. And even then, I'll continue to tell you. Because it's true. Those motherfuckers don't know you. Not like I do, and they never will. “
She pauses to wipe your tears, kissing your cheeks gently. “I love you so much, and no matter what they say, I always will. D’you understand?” her eyes locked with yours, waiting for your response.
You sniffle, nodding slowly. Emily shakes her head. “Words, baby.” She whispers.
You feel your cheeks heat up, and by the way Emily tries to bite back a smirk, you know she did it on purpose. “I understand. I love you too.”
With that she pulls you into a passionate kiss, lips interlocking as she takes your insecurities away, replacing them with butterflies.
______________________________
taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris
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bonefall · 2 days
Note
how much of Stormpaw’s demon are Maple’s curse vs just things that happen (cause in canon it’s really vague about whether Maple causes all those tragedies or has the ability to see his future for some reason)
EVERYTHING that happens in Stormpaw's Demon involves her. It's not being so dramatically renamed for nothing, she's a major driver and cause of the plot! Crookedstar's young name is in the title; but really, his demon is driving the misfortune.
That said... It's been a while and I'm heavily considering retooling the narrative.
Since I last REALLY worked on it, BB has changed in the sense that I'm a lot more willing to alter canon than I used to be. While my driving mindset used to be "telling a better version of the original story," and that IS a value I still hold... I've lost patience with the misogyny within the original work.
I've spoken at length about the way Crookedstar's Promise grinds my gears (PLEASE follow this link for a full breakdown of why), but in summary; it desperately tries to keep every male character likeable when they shouldn't be, saying nothing about the fact they are complicit in or even enabling abuse, while giving Crookedstar TWO flatly evil maternal figures. Even Brambleberry, who's heavily praised for being "like a mom instead," has a weird moment where she starts giving Crookedjaw the cold shoulder because she finds out he's chatting with a demon.
So like... I'm not sure if I want to make the "better version" of that story. That was the one that I already had, which had Mapleshade be acting entirely out of just the malice of wanting to hurt a child, while Hailstar and Shellheart are the excellent people canon wanted to see them as.
(not that it's even a BAD super edition, it's actually a really good one, but if it's my kitchen that's not what we cook here. Man I really do always massively overhaul my favorite SEs LMAO)
I think, specifically, I want to make Mapleshade slightly more morally gray and Hailstar more of an enabler. Shellheart is getting significantly retooled to make him more of the heartwarming parental figure I think he should be; someone loving to help balance out a very heavy rework.
And of course Brambleberry, I'm going to tweak her some. Try to make her flaws more consistent, get rid of that odd cold shoulder moment.
Old regulars will remember an old AU which is also still a massive favorite of mine; it was called Better Call Mapleshade, and it was kind of a commentary on how an environment can shape a person. Mapleshade, as a demon in heaven, was essentially their best prosecutor and defense attorney.
You can actually see how a lot of ideas from that AU ended up in Better Bones with the expanded trial system! I'm thinking of taking another page out of it, by making Mapleshade more aware of "the game" of Clan culture's structural unfairness, while also using it like a weapon against people she wants to hurt. A powerful demon of revenge.
Under the cut, what won't be changing, the way it was, and Draft 2 of Stormpaw's Demon.
(MASSIVE CONTENT WARNING FOR MENTAL AND PHYSICAL CHILD ABUSE including ableism. BB!Rainflower is WORSE than canon.)
WHAT WON'T BE CHANGING;
These are major details of Stormpaw's Demon that are different from canon. I'm working with these as givens and won't be changing between drafts.
Mapleshade does have a bone to pick with Appledusk's lineage specifically. One option might make her more discerning when it comes to her targets, but no matter what, she is going to have her eyes on this bloodline. She Haunts Applekin.
Rainflower is Hailstar's deputy. And I will make her downfall spectacular. If you were worried I was going to make her more sympathetic then you have no idea who I am LMAO
Shellheart is not Crookedstar's biofather While I want Hailstar to maybe be worse; I do want to fix Shellheart by making him a good parent. I've decided a good way to do this is to make it that Shellheart adopts Storm AFTER he's been abused by Rainflower. He didn't have authority over him before then. In general, I do want him to have a bigger positive role in this narrative. DEPENDING ON WHICH VERSION: Oakheart might also not be his bio-brother.
Crookedjaw is not a cruel name; it's an Honor Title. I've ALWAYS been frustrated by how canon treats scars and injuries as bad things. It's a BATTLE culture. Surviving brushes with death is their WHOLE THING. There is no "crookedkit" or "crookedpaw," he was Stormpaw until he earned his warrior name, with "Crookedjaw" commending the massive lengths he's gone to in order to survive, adapt, and honor StarClan.
Mentor change: Goodbye Cedarpelt, hello Magpiesky! I decided to repurpose one of the Barn Cats! Magpie from the books is a daughter of Perchshine-- the cat who killed Mapleshade. She joined RiverClan long ago. She's actually the one who points him in the way of the barn, and has to train him "as a punishment for teaching him disobedience" when he comes back. I actually have a couple of minor reasons for making this change but I'll spare them for now. He might start with Cedarpelt, but then run to the barn when Cedarpelt is basically refusing to train him properly.
Some family tree shuffles I need to update this tree to show Crookedstar's new situation with Shellheart (and also reflect some other changes I made like confirming Hallowflight fully being Lizardtail's honor title and Robinpaw being the apprentice who gets eaten by Ripwater), BUT, overall this tree is solid.
The ableism Storm faces is going to have a different flavor I have built BB in a way where him surviving his injury would be very respected, but he'd get badly coddled and pushed into early retirement. Him running to the barn is because he suspects he wouldn't have gotten training otherwise.
He kills a fox there because it's Cool. I might give him the tail to wear as a trophy of the kill because that's also Cool. The fox was very old and feeble at that point, which was why it was attacking chickens, but shhh
The Way It Was (Very Evil Mapleshade)
Darkstar's Commandment creating the Queen's Rights, that no queen would ever have to reveal the other parent of their kittens, wasn't enough to appease Mapleshade.
Nor was the damning of everyone that Mapleshade killed. In a fit of irrational fury at all the death, StarClan sent all her victims into the Dark Forest.
But she can't chase them. In the Dark Forest, you don't see someone unless you WANT to see them, not unless you're hanging out in a "land mar" (a sort of personal hell that all demons get).
on the off-chance she does see them, Frecklewish usually rips her to shreds...
Which is the next problem.
You can't DIE in the Dark Forest if you're a demon. You poof back into existence the next day, no injuries, no scars, nothing.
she's bored.
And vengeful. In spite of the wrong being righted, she still thinks she deserves MORE revenge, because what she wanted was really Appledusk.
She finds it unfair that HER legacy is snuffed out, that it's Darkstar's Commandment and not hers, that her babies were destined for greatness and by extension SHE should have been great.
So she takes up a hobby in tormenting Appledusk's descendants. She wants to eradicate them completely, but is spiteful enough that she'll just settle with hurting them.
The first one she managed to kill was Applefrost, Reedshine's son. Just by accident. She didn't know she had such power over the mortal plane.
After that, she managed to drown Duskwater. The daughter.
But she couldn't wipe out HER daughter in that storm... and she brought two more Applekin children into the world.
Stormkit and Oakkit.
So, naturally, Mapleshade turned her sight on the little fuzzball.
He would be an easy kill, in theory. She smashed Stormkit's jaw on the rock, but Oakkit pulled him out.
From there, it's similar to canon for a bit. His recovery is long and painful.
Rainflower is disgusted, and wants absolutely no part of helping him through this process.
That wasn't an injury gained in battle-- it's because he's careless and didn't listen to her. He's going through all this suffering, and for what?
To never become a warrior?
She's cruel to him, begins to neglect and distance herself from him. Discourages him from suckling.
Mapleshade LOVES this. It's worse than she could have imagined. Rainflower is horrible.
Gleefully, she realizes that Stormkit dying now is what Rainflower wants.
So, she kills two other kits in the nursery.
Fallowtail's only survivor is Willowkit, so she has plenty of milk. She starts suckling Stormkit.
(Graypool is now an older sibling! She's actually an apprentice at this time! Later, she encourages Willowkit to visit their father, who decides to just kidnap them completely)
Eventually, being the deputy, Rainflower had some kind of conversation with Hailstar.
During that conversation, she asked him to do something very cruel to Crookedkit.
And Hailstar LOST IT
He's the successor of Volestar, who was appointed by Darkstar herself to uphold the Queen's Rights and protect children.
How DARE you try to turn RiverClan into a place of disrespect?? To use my power this way?!
So, her power was stripped, and Oakkit and Stormkit were taken from her.
From there, Storm eventually goes to the barn as discussed, and Mapleshade continues to do things to hurt him.
This was my first draft, and now having thought about it a lot, I feel like it's not super cohesive. A demonic Mapleshade who's entirely malicious is neat, but I feel like this makes her flat. Shellheart's not tied in super well either, and Hailstar's stand feels kind of hollow because Rainflower hasn't actually used or leveraged the new authority I've given her.
But most egregiously? Rainflower's abuse being so close to canon tastes kind of bland. I feel like I can make it sooo much more intense, complicated, and painful.
Draft 2 of Stormpaw's Demon (Demon of Revenge Update) Essentially an outline for the first few chapters establishing Mapleshade by dealing with Rainflower and then fragments for the rest.
Mapleshade's still malicious, but this time, there's more to it.
Darkstar's Commandment, and the damning of her victims, DID appease this Mapleshade.
But is she satisfied? No.
She doesn't feel like she was wrong at all, actually. Without her killing those three in revenge for her kittens, StarClan's anger probably would have subsided.
She can't hunt her victims down again though, because, they don't want to see her. She fights Frecklewish every now and then but what's the point?
She WON already. She already GOT the euphoria of dragging them all down with her.
Punishing everyone who had ever wronged her was the highlight of her existence... but now it's done.
She's in Hell and she's bored. Her punishment is never seeing her kits again, but more importantly, her punishment is eternal shuffling through the leaf litter when she's SO GOOD at getting revenge.
Problem with revenge is, when you get it, it's gone.
She probably messed with Duskwater and Applefrost a bit, but if she killed one of them, it was accidental. It made her realize that revenge without a motive is just boring.
The prologue would probably open up with establishing her as a character. Who she is, what she wants.
Because the first chapter would dive RIGHT IN to Stormkit. The only child of Rainflower, the deputy.
Right along with Stormkit, you only learn in hindsight that he was born in a storm that killed his grandmother. It's clear that Rainflower reminds him of this often.
And that she's nasty to him. Giving him unclear instruction and finding things to critique, telling him to jump and then barking at him that he didn't ask how high.
She has great expectations for him, and reminds him of their family lineage often. Of who killed his great-grandfather, of what a fantastic pair of warriors Applefrost and Duskwater were
"I lost everything the night you were born. You'd better be able to make up for it."
Unfortunately, Stormkit is not the sort of child who's good at listening to those sorts of orders. He's stubborn and defiant; angry and oppositional.
When he doesn't understand why you do something, he doesn't want to do it
He "embarrasses" her a lot, and gets hurt for it.
In public, these are swats and whacks. The things you're "allowed" to do to discipline your child. In private these are a lot more severe.
So when Stormkit is given an order or a command, he obeys completely out of fear rather than respect. And sometimes he forgets his fear.
The other cats in RiverClan? Well... Stormkit is a problem child, and Rainflower is a fantastic, organized, respected deputy.
Hailstar especially, unfortunately. He feels bad... for Rainflower.
"It must be so hard for her to have such a little brat as a son. He never seems to learn his lesson. When will he stop wandering off? What's wrong with him? He certainly didn't get that from her."
His best friend, Oakkit, gets in the SAME trouble he does.
He's mischievous, fearless, and outgoing, and... never gets punished for it.
There's times where Oakkit does something and Stormkit physically recoils, just imagining what Rainflower would do if HE did something like that. Especially in how Oakkit talks to his dad, Shellheart.
For example, Shellheart will come to get his son for suckling time and Oakkit will tell him to his face things like, "I don't want to! I'm HAVING FUN!"
and shellheart doesn't flip out. He just. explains why it's important to eat on time.
"I know. But Fallowtail wants to go have fun too! She's waiting for you to come and suckle so she can go play."
"Well why can't she just play now and I suckle later?"
"When a suckler is full of milk, it makes their belly very itchy. She's uncomfortable when you don't come and eat on time."
"nnnh"
"Tough sell? How about I sweeten the pile with a badger ride back?"
"Hm. You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Dad."
Stormkit doesn't know why he hates it. He's all angry inside when he sees them acting friendly. He's polite because Oakkit's his best friend and Mr. Shellheart is really nice, but he just...
He's too young at the time to know he's envious. He wants what Oakkit has so badly it hurts.
Sometime after an exchange like that, Stormkit is visited by Mapleshade for the first time.
And they talk about Stormkit's anger and resentment. Stormkit lets it slip that he HATES his Mi.
Waits for Mapleshade to stop him and tell him, like everyone else does, that "she's still your mother."
...but she doesn't.
Besides Oakkit and Shellheart, she's the first person who doesn't tell him that.
She just lets him talk. Lets him go on. Starts making nasty jabs, which make him laugh.
"She says she lost everything the day I was born!!"
"What?! That's crazy! She got you that day!"
"Right?! It's like she's saying I'm nothing! Maybe she SHOULD lose everything, then she'd know what she's got!"
And then she asks, "Do you want her to die?"
Suddenly, there's a chill in the air. He's really shocked by the suggestion of that. He didn't... he didn't mean it to go THAT far. That's not what he meant... is it?
But she's fading back into the shadows, just her eyes visible in the dark. Tells him that she can see he's unsure. That's ok.
Holds up a budding sprig of sycamore, the maple she's named for. Its buds grow in a "deer hoof," with one large bud in the middle and two "toes" sprouting on its sides.
Teaches him that if he needs someone in his corner, all he has to do is call.
(to summon her, a bud is plucked off the sprig and thrown in the river.)
He wakes up with the sprig in his paw, panics, and shoves it under the nest he shares with his mother.
The experience shakes him. He probably ran to Brambleberry for the first time, who explains very seriously that he was contacted by a demon.
From the description... Mapleshade. The cat who killed his great-grandfather.
He BEGS her not to tell Rainflower. PLEADS with her. He can barely hear her already saying yes under the throbbing sound of his heart in his ears.
When he calms down, he hears her saying yes. On the condition she will need to smoke the nursery with sage and cedar, and that he will be needing a bath as well.
When he's still concerned that Rainflower will question him, she makes a plan to distract her for a day, long enough for him to do his cleanse and the smell to fade.
And, of course, that he will not follow any instructions that Mapleshade left him. He agrees. But does not tell Brambleberry about the sprig.
For a while he's very "well behaved." But it's not about him, never has been.
It really doesn't take long at all for Rainflower to get worse. Kids who are defiant like that are usually exercising a defense mechanism-- if they're not aggressive about their boundaries, their limits are pushed to a breaking point.
And after a big blowout like this, which was probably a public spectacle, Stormkit runs back to his nest and digs out the sprig, runs to the river, and throws a bud in the river.
Having calmed down from his shuddering fury, the dread begins to set in as a dead-smelling wind ruffles his fur. He can't help but feel like he just did something very stupid out of anger.
Looking at his reflection, he sees no cuts or swelling. The blows weren't "bad enough." He doesn't have the kind of injuries that anyone would do anything about. Equal parts guilt and frustration swell in him like a tide at full moon. How could he be sitting here wishing she hurt him worse?
So he tries to soften it, "I don't want her to die, I just, I... I just want her to lose everything like she says. Please..."
The wind whispers in his ear, "it will get worse before it gets better."
"I can handle that," he sobs, "I can do anything. Please. Make it stop."
After that, Oakkit probably runs to come find him. Stormkit doesn't want to be found. He makes up a childish plan, on the spot, to run away and join ThunderClan.
Oak says that's mousebrained, but Storm has DEVOTED himself to this plan he made just now.
And is crossing the stones.
Oak sighs, but if Storm's going to ThunderClan, he should really go with him because then they could totally fight off a small fox (Childish hubris)
Unfortunately, Rainflower found them. asks Exactly What He's Doing.
The kids freeze. Stormkit in particular has that horrible, twisting anxiety that you get when you hear The Tone that means you're in for an absolute wallop when you get home.
He's about to start running, but then the voice tickles his ear-fur again. Mapleshade tells him to go back. It'll be ok. She's on his side. She'll make her pay.
Oakkit is still frozen in place when, as if possessed, Storm's body stiffly returns to his mother.
There's a silence. The river trickling through the stepping stones. Storm looking with fear and anger up at her.
She's waiting for an apology, groveling. He doesn't give her one.
So she raises her paw and gives him an awful, hard blow.
His little body twists, flung off balance, trying to correct himself, and he can swear he felt paws pushing him a second time, whipping him downwards.
The feeling of falling fills his stomach, the water sloshes into his ears before there's a ring of a sound like CLUNK-CRUNCH, and then the river floods his nose and mouth.
It all goes dark.
When he wakes up, it's with a throbbing pain in the side of his jaw so intense that he can feel it all the way down in the tip of his tail. He learns from Brambleberry that Oakkit rescued him-- jumped right into the water to pull him out. And then Rainflower pulled him out. That was when Shellheart came and found them.
There's a LOT of arguing outside, but Storm can't ask what it is because it hurts to move his mouth at all. Brambleberry hushes and soothes him, telling him it's nothing he needs to know about.
(MEDICAL INFODUMPING: i do actually have a medical reason I want his injury to come from someone hitting him which causes him to fall. The injury he'd get in canon would actually be a really simple and common split in the front of the mandible, which wouldn't cause his mouth to have a dramatic twist and would heal very easily. He needs to come down on the rock at an angle to shatter the joint like that.)
From here, the tune about Stormkit starts to change.
Oakkit was distraught when they got back, telling everyone that Rainflower smashed him against a rock.
Rainflower's story is that he was running, and she chased after him. EVERYONE knows that he has a habit of doing this.
Then HE slipped and fell and hit his face on the rocks. His fault.
Oakkit was running away with him, he's lying.
Shellheart is FEROCIOUSLY taking the side of his son, furious that she would imply he raised a liar.
Hailstar is taking the side of Rainflower. It's two troublemaking kits against his deputy.
Yes, Rainflower's disciplined him before, but that's no indication she'd do something like this on purpose.
Brambleberry weighs in that the injury that Stormkit has isn't the sort of injury a kitten gets from hitting his jaw. The bone is shattered.
probably does some kind of visual to go along with it, using a stick and a stone
"The bones of a kitten are like the young shoots of a tree. When they fracture," she takes a young twig and snaps it in her paws. The fibers in the center are bent but unbroken, with the bark splintered around them, "they flay but don't snap."
She places the stick on the ground, "So for the injury that Stormkit has," and violently smashes the rock down onto it. It's shattered and pulped, the fibers flattened, "there would need to be a great force."
Shellheart hisses, saying that THIS is the evidence. Oakkit's story is consistent but Rainflower HAS to have lied.
Several cats are now on his side.
...But more are on Rainflower's.
"She's his mother. She loves him. Oakkit has to be mistaken."
"Why would she chase down her own son just to smash his face on a stone?"
"She wouldn't pull them out of the river if she really wanted to hurt him!"
Hailstar prompts if there's ANYTHING else that could explain this?
It comes up that Brambleberry cleansed the dens the other day.
She says that it's possible there is a demon's influence at work. She can't know for sure which one it is-- but it may have a grudge against Rainflower.
She allows them to reach the conclusion that it's probably Mapleshade on their own. She will be talking to Crookedkit when he's able, but she's not about to tell anyone about his dream yet.
She doesn't want him to have the extra scrutiny when he needs to rest and heal, but if she'd shared that an unnamed cat had a demonic dream, it would set off panic as cats accused each other of dark magic.
Rainflower manages to escape consequences by pointing out that it was likely Mapleshade that injured her son.
Oakkit is still trying to tell everyone SHE did it, he SAW it, Stormkit walked back and she hit him and smashed his jaw on the rock
But he's hushed. It's decided there's not enough evidence. And not enough reason to doubt the noble deputy.
She's never done something like this before, after all. It's more likely it was an accident.
There is a group of cats that are dissatisfied about this, though, and it only grows when Brambleberry explains that Stormkit's prognosis is not good.
There is a very high chance he will die. Even adult warriors can wither slowly from this sort of injury.
Recovery will be slow and it will be painful.
...but after that incident? Rainflower gets bolder. She got away with it in public. She got a taste of the leverage she has, how much they trust her.
Stormkit spends a lot of time floating in between his dreams and his living-world pain. There's at least one interaction where he speaks to Mapleshade, screaming at her that he TRUSTED her, he KNOWS she's the one who hurt him! How could she?!
She can't say much, kept at bay by a hazy smokescreen of sage. "You must live! You must survive!"
Her old words echo in his head; It Will Get Worse Before It Gets Better.
Throughout the recovery, Rainflower grows more cruel and more distant.
In public she likes to talk about how difficult this is for her, but he's strong, he will survive.
In private, she'll do things that hurt him, like repositioning his head in a way that "his jaw will heal better in." When he cries, she's unsympathetic.
"You brought this on yourself. This is for your own good."
Her definition of "private" is also changing. She's getting more comfortable with snapping at him in front of limited groups of people.
Since she's deputy, the other two parents in the nursery, Shellheart and Fallowtail, do their best to care for Stormkit while she's away. He's pulled away from them when she gets back, any ideas or suggestions they have vetoed.
When they try to go to Brambleberry about this, she shakes her head with frustration and tries to make them understand she knows... and she's just as unhappy with it as they are.
She tells them she keeps going to Hailstar, but he's still hesitant. Even though she's trying to tell him that Stormkit's recovery is being undermined.
"Rainflower's son has always needed tough love. She's his Mi and knows him best... she's still taking care of him. Give her a warning before suggesting anything drastic."
In the other draft, I had Mapleshade kill two of Fallowtail's kits to free up milk for Stormkit. I'm not sure I need that anymore honestly, plus, this rework's heavy enough! She can just have Willowkit without any deaths, while Graypaw remains an older sibling.
When Brambleberry informs Rainflower and Stormkit that the jaw isn't healing straight and it will probably be at an angle forever, Rainflower reacts with disdain.
"His first scar and it's nothing he earned?!"
She's reminded he might not even survive. He's lost weight. He's eating less. Stormkit curls up quietly. He hates how they talk about him like he can't hear them.
"Surviving is the bare minimum," she scoffs reflexively. There's a silence so thick you can cut it with a claw. After an uncomfortable heartbeat, she continues, "What kind of a life will he live if he-"
"a life," Brambleberry cuts in, "he'd live a life. And it can be a good one"
Rainflower growls, spitting that the twisted jaw is a disfigurement. He'll never be able to open his mouth all the way. He can't chew and he can't suckle forever. Stormkit will never become a warrior if he can't even dispatch a fish with a killing bite.
"Scars are the sign that StarClan has mended our bodies after fighting a good fight, making any Clanborn cat worthy of being an elder" Brambleberry preaches, "Names are what mark us, calling upon our ancestors to look down at us and witness our actions, Rainflower. Don't say anything you wouldn't want them to see."
Rainflower flicks her ear, seething, a rumble in her throat, "was that some kind of threat? As if I've said something wrong?"
"If you feel threatened, look within."
Stormkit resents all of this talk. He can feel his mother tensing up next to him, hears the low rumble progressing into a growl. When adults play stupid games with his mom, he's always the one who ends up dealing it. Why don't they get that?
It's only Shellheart who seems to have it click, "Hey, this is the nursery. Can you take it outside, please?"
As Brambleberry and Rainflower leave, Stormkit lays curled up in his nest, cold and alone. Oakkit leaves Shellheart's paws to curl up around his best friend.
Shellheart stares at them, shifting, but ultimately stays where he is.
There's a lot of words I could write there, between Storm and Oak. Ones where Storm speaks about how he just wants the pain to be done with. Others where Oak comforts him, tells him how much he means to him. More where they end up running into the wall that they're just two little kids and they've both learned the truth that they have no control over what happens when Rainflower comes back into that den.
But I think it would be good to end there, at the lowest point. Because it gets better.
Pissed off by being gently confronted, after her warning from Brambleberry, this is the moment where Rainflower goes too far.
Hailstar is gradually losing his patience. Every time this issue comes up, he's making some kind of new excuse for her.
She's still a competent deputy who holds the Clan together, but this has taken a toll on her reputation.
Her biggest mistake was becoming more open with her abuse after being emboldened. And I think Hailstar is beginning to feel like he's got "egg on his face."
After standing up for Rainflower several times, getting heat from Brambleberry, and now the Clan also starting to murmur...
It's getting very difficult to justify why he's sticking his neck out.
and maybe, part of him is starting to feel a little self-conscious about the way that his deputy is acting about her injured child.
When she comes storming up on this fateful day, interrupting whatever he was doing to make a proposition, it's the breaking point.
Her suggestion: "I've realized that there's only one way to ensure my son survives his injury. He's being haunted by our demon, which only started threatening him when he disobeyed me for the last time. WE need to teach him a lesson, and make sure StarClan gazes down upon him to acknowledge his mistakes."
"...how do you intend to do that?"
"Stormkit must be given a Dishonor Title."
A Dishonor Title, one of the greatest shames that a leader can put onto one of their warriors. A punishment that ranks just below exile in terms of severity.
"you want to put a dishonor title... on your child? one with a life-threatening injury?"
"One that acknowledges his carelessness. To protect him from the demon."
Protect him from the demon. "I see now what must be done."
Previously, I'd thought of Hailstar as someone who would be loud and merciless when he does this. Now I'm thinking it was something he put a lot of thought into. He stands up, brushes past her, and goes to talk to some of his most trusted cats. Brambleberry, his mate Echomist, an experienced warrior such as Piketooth or Ottersplash, and lastly, Shellheart.
So it's not a surprise to anyone but Rainflower herself. He doesn't want this to be dramatic. He doesn't want it to be another big scene. Stormkit has gone through enough.
When he eventually has this Clan meeting, he calls it quietly. In his address to the gathered cats, a crowd that Shellheart and his family are missing from at his request, he says that his greatest regret is that he didn't do this sooner. He even doubts that Mapleshade is haunting her at all-- now having seen her behavior, he says it's more likely that Rainflower bashed her own child against a rock and simply lied.
First, he announces that Stormkit will be removed from her care. He will no longer be of the Applekin bloodline.
She is banned from the nursery at the request of Fallowtail, and will only see Stormkit when supervised by his new Mi, Shellheart.
Brambleberry has already agreed to this necessity, and is performing a ritual so that StarClan may approve of this choice.
He also strips her of her deputyship, and appoints Ottersplash instead. (I might change this to a different deputy eventually)
Not everyone agrees with Hailstar. There's an uproar from Rainflower's supporters.
She was a VERY popular deputy.
More that are just uneasy, feeling that this was a BRUTAL punishment that she didn't deserve.
Lots are happy and optimistic, though. But the mixed reception is exactly why Hailstar asked Shellheart not to be here.
This isn't something Stormkit has to deal with right now.
When Darkstar herself, who created the Queen's Rights, was on her last life, she appointed Volestar to uphold the law as her legacy knowing that Oakstar might try to break it again.
Volestar appointed Hailstar, in the hopes that he would uphold her legacy in turn, to protect kittens and those who can't protect themselves.
He was late, and can only hope he was not too late. He hopes that Volestar can forgive him for that.
Meanwhile in the nursery, Shellheart, Oakkit, and Stormkit are alone, far in the back, where the padded moss keeps out arguing voices.
Oakkit, bless his little heart, is babbling with excitement because his best friend is his BROTHER now. And it's gonna be THE BEST.
He's talking about how it's fine he can't chew because now they can have soup, and they're going to make the nest bigger, and they can stay up later because they can whisper quieter if they're this close together
But Storm doesn't really hear him. His head's swimming, thinking about the dull ache in his jaw, how MAD his mom's going to be because he can't imagine her not finding a way to hurt him, how this is all his fault because he called Mapleshade.
He can't stop it anymore and starts sniffling, which turns into weeping. Still, he's TRYING not to bawl, knowing, knowing he looks stupid when he does that
Shellheart just pulls him in close, so he can bury his face in his fluffy chest. Tells him it's going to be ok. He's safe now. No one can hurt him there.
Not on his watch.
Unfortunately, it's not the last he sees of Mapleshade. After this...
Mapleshade shows him everything she did for him. Yes, she did smash his jaw-- but it was to get him away from his mother.
And she planted an idea here and there, just little whispers into Rainflower's ear. Nothing she wouldn't do all on her own.
And now... Mapleshade believes she's earned some respect.
Stormkit can't disagree... she did exactly what she told him she'd do.
And now that he's not Applekin anymore, they can be Real Friends. They could even strike up a partnership, of sorts. After all, what did StarClan do to help him?
It wasn't StarClan that answered his prayers.
I'm still figuring out what, exactly, she's going to want from him. I have a scintilla that she wants to give him a life, maybe as some kind of bridge to StarClan to see her kits?
Some strange "attempt" at redemption, perhaps? Which she ultimately doesn't get.
Not that she didn't enjoy doing all that for love of the game, mind you. She's very good at getting revenge and it's fun and exciting to pull it off.
But hey, if you're good at something, never do it for free.
What causes Mapleshade to ultimately turn, and begin haunting the bloodline again + Oakheart, is Crookedstar rejecting her in some way.
She comes to collect on her end of the bargain and he refuses, breaking their partnership. He chooses StarClan.
And then from there, it's ON again. Now she has another EXCUSE to do what she wanted to do, and take out her boredom and malice on his family.
This time, it includes Oakheart as well-- because he was Crookedstar's brother.
It was also her curse that harmed Willowbreeze and eventually Silverstream. She's on the warpath.
Maybe she actually helped make him leader on purpose. Like he explicitly asked so she helped him by making the squirrel omen, instead of just doing it for him unprompted. Still figuring it out.
Shortly after the scene where Stormkit cries, he needs to have a confrontation with Brambleberry about Mapleshade I think. She needs to explain why Dark Forest demons are seen as bad.
She's biased, of course, but it's not like she's TOTALLY wrong either. Cats like Mapleshade ARE vengeful, in ways many other spirits are not.
If you're curious, Crookedstar's dishonor title from Rainflower would have been something comparing him to a parasite and referencing his ""accident"" like Fleaskip or Midgefall.
The point she's trying to make with the Dishonor Title is that her son is an annoying bug who didn't listen, as well as subtly erase she fact she knocked him off that rock.
She wanted his name to say "everything that happened was my fault and my mom did nothing wrong"
Not that Hailstar got as far as even asking lmao
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maxwellatoms · 2 days
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I bought a Gartenmeister Fuchsia plant for my birthday back in January. It was a centerpiece all winter long, but recently it started looking a bit sickly. I'm not a "green" gerdener anymore (haha), but I am also by no means a master. I think it was infected with powdery mildew, but I also convinced myself it was spider mites. I try to keep things all -natural out there, so I dried it out and sprayed it with some neem oil after pruning it back a bit. I really should've pruned off all of the infected bits, but I didn't want to lose the flowers.
I did that a few more times, unable to commit to a hard prune because I kept telling myself "I don't know what I'm doing, so maybe it's not sick. Maybe it'll fix itself. Sure would be nice to have those flowers back." I finally gave up and cut it to the bone yesterday, but yesterday was too late. I had to remove every single leaf because I dithered for too long. It's probably not going to make it.
I feel the same way about our culture. US culture. Western culture (though its really a global problem). The Entertainment Industry. The Media. It's sick. We probably need some rather serious surgery to fix the problem, but we just will not see a doctor. To see a doctor would be to admit there's a problem, and for some that is the greatest sin of the 21st Century. Maybe some of us are just hoping the system will recover on its own so we can have our pretty flowers back.
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For me, it was around 2010 or so when I first started to smell something "off". The symptoms had certainly been around a while. This was just when I noticed. This was when I got my first, "Hey, let's not make fun of corporations" note. It's when The History Channel stopped airing stuff about history in favor of aliens because that's where the money was. And rather than rebranding, they just left it as "History", encouraging future generations to believe whatever they felt like. This was also about when traditional news outlets started skewing to clickbait in order to compete with sites that were clearly 100% not legitimate news sites. Again, as long as the money is right it's "just entertainment" and you' can're welcome to believe it if it means you'll watch more.
I'm all-in on Dead Internet Theory now. The disparity between what major news media outlets will report and what you see from actual people on Tumblr or Threads or Reddit is pretty shocking. And those sites are already compromised by bots and bad actors. The tools exist now to actively bamboozle millions of people, and I have no doubt we're already seeing some of this now. In six months or a year you'll find out it (whatever it was) never happened or was generated by an LLM. The time to stop listening to anyone online was a year ago.
Trust no one.
Not even me!
It's cultural rot. It's spreading faster and faster, and I'm not sure what happens when we get to the end of this ride. Actually, I AM sure what happens. If we don't prune back hard now, then the rot takes over. Best-case, you clip the infected branches off too late and it takes years to recover. Worst case? Nature soldiers on but the plant succumbs to infection and dies completely, replaced (eventually) by something that can actually hack it in that spot.
When humans produce art and information, and then comment on that art and information by producing more art and information, we call it "culture". We're moving toward a time when the vast majority of art and ideas we get out eyes on won't be created by humans. Or at the very least won't be created with the purpose of commenting on or enriching the organic human experience. When that happens, what will we call it? What will remain of our culture?
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superprofesh · 3 days
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The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 4
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Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader
Description: The fourth time Colt Seavers almost kisses you — on the brink of a promise he knows he can't afford to make.
Rating: T
Word Count: 3.2k
Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer, @chemococktailonthehouse, @1word, @itzjustj-1000, @k-l-a-w-s, @hotdogbread23
Author’s Note: I've been blown away by how kind you all have been about this fic, and I'm so glad you're enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it! We've got two parts to go, and they only get better from here :) Thank you for all the support, and let me know what you think of this chapter!!
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
It’s five o’clock in the morning, and Colt Seavers has already been standing in the misty parking lot for two hours when he finally sees your car pulling in the entrance.
The last twelve hours have been absolute torture for him. One minute, he was walking into the crowded club to drop off some equipment with the stunt coordinator; the next, he was sharing space at the bar with you, trapped under your spell despite all his vows that he wouldn’t keep pushing this flirty thing you’ve been sharing.
He’s been conflicted for months now, knowing that his feelings for you are only getting deeper but also knowing that a relationship with him is the last thing you need. No matter how hard he tries to be noble for you, he just can’t get free from the way you enrapture him so completely — the way he thinks of you every moment of the day, dreams of a future where you could feel about him the way he feels about you.
And he honestly thought you didn’t — that you couldn’t — until last night. When he completely wrecked everything, including your heart.
Colt squeezes his eyes shut again, remembering the way he pulled back from you just a few seconds before your lips would have met. In the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do: cut it off, laugh it off, let it go before he betrayed how absolutely captivated he is by everything you do.
He keeps telling himself that he did the right thing. That he’s no good for you, and you’re better off not getting confused by his overwhelming feelings for you. But he keeps seeing your face — the way all the light in your eyes vanished, the way your shoulders slumped and your expression wilted. He had no idea there were actual, genuine feelings on your part. And for him?
Colt has spent the last twelve hours deliberating how to handle this situation. He knows he has to make it right with you, but the question is how. His inner monologue has quite the speech ready for him. You can’t even THINK about confessing your feelings. You’re the one who has no future, no big dreams, maybe not even much longer to live! You have no right to force that kind of life on anyone. Especially if you really care.
After hours of tormented decision-making, Colt has come to the same conclusion he always does: he can’t let you know how he feels about you. He’s got to apologize, make sure you know he didn’t mean to hurt you, let you think he’s just been flirting for fun, maybe even rekindle your injured friendship. But he absolutely cannot let you know he’s in love with you.
And he is, isn’t he? He wouldn’t have waited with bated breath in the parking lot for two hours if he wasn’t madly, hopelessly, irremediably in love with you.
Colt has planned this conversation thousands of times since last night, but the only thing he can choke out when you climb out of your car and start toward the studio is, “Hey.”
You glance up at him in surprise, clearly less than pleased to find him hanging around the parking lot so early. His heart tightens at the sight of your pale face, the dark circles under your eyes betraying what was probably a sleepless night. “Hey,” you respond emotionlessly.
“Do you have a second?” Colt asks. His voice isn’t quite as strong as he hoped, but the sight of you is sending jolts of electricity through his veins.
You look to the side, pursing your lips and injecting a hint of coldness into your voice that he has never heard before. “Honestly, Colt, no offense,” you say plainly, “but I don’t really want to talk right now.”
Colt presses his lips together, knowing he’s the reason for this uncharacteristic coldness. “Believe me, I understand,” he blurts out, “but I’ve got to talk to you about last night.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you shoot back, fixing your stare on him again. Behind the coldness in your eyes is a deep sorrow that twists his heart. “I misread the signals, I overthought it, it’s not a big deal. You don’t need to explain anything.”
“Yes, I do,” he insists. “I messed up big time. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since last night, and I have to get this off my chest, okay? You don’t have to say anything.” He knows he sounds desperate, but he’s past caring. “Please, just hear me out and let me explain.”
You hold his stare, unrelenting, unforgiving. He loves you for it. “Fine.”
Colt releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, overwhelmed with relief that you’re even willing to listen to him. His biggest worry all night was that you wouldn’t speak to him, wouldn’t let him make things right.
He plunges right in, knowing it will be messy but not caring. “Listen, I’m really bad at this, but I’m going to give it my best go. These past few months that I’ve known you… it’s been really nice. You’re amazing to be around, and I always feel better after I’ve hung out with you. You’ve honestly been the best thing about this shoot.”
Your expression doesn’t change, but Colt can feel the iciness in your gaze softening ever so slightly. It gives him the courage to press on, even though he knows what he’s about to say is going to devastate himself.
“The thing is,” he continues, heart in his throat, “I’ve been so caught up in just… flirting and messing around, that I haven’t paid attention to how it might affect you. I haven’t been paying attention to the signals either.”
You furrow your brow at him. “What are you saying?”
Colt, you are the worst at this, man.
“I’m saying… I’m really sorry that I hurt your feelings last night. I’ve been replaying it over and over in my mind, and I can’t get past the way you looked at me when I pulled away and laughed everything off. Just, the look in your eyes and the way you looked like I had let you down — it’s been killing me.”
Your expression finally softens, and Colt hates himself for the words that are coming out of his mouth. “I thought this was just a fun flirtation between friends and that it would be better to keep any physical stuff out of it. I didn’t know there was anything on your side. Honestly. Not until I saw how much it hurt you for me to just… act like it meant nothing.”
There it is again — that hint of betrayal in your eyes. Now that Colt knows you care for him, his decision to “do the right thing” suddenly seems like the most gut-wrenching, agonizing thing he’s ever done.
It’s all I can do. I have nothing to offer, nothing to make a relationship worth the pain it would cause. I love you, and that’s why I won’t tell you.
Your brow is still lined with confusion, trying to parse out his real meaning among the confusion of words. “But you’re still saying… it didn’t mean anything to you.”
This is killing him. “Of course it meant something to me,” Colt blurts out before he can stop himself completely. He tries to amend it. “Man, I am so bad at this. What I’m trying to say is… I would never have even started a flirtation with you if I knew it would hurt you. Please believe me when I say I would never, ever, in a gazillion years want to do anything to hurt you or make you feel like I don’t care about your feelings. I should have been more sensitive and realized that I can’t just… lead you on without it mattering.”
Lead you on. As if I didn’t mean every word I’ve ever said to you. As if I wouldn’t die for you right now.
You nod, pursing your lips again with a clearer, more determined look in your eyes. “So, just so we’re clear,” you say slowly, “there’s nothing going on? All this flirting and hanging out and almost-kissing — it’s just been for kicks?”
“No, no, not just for kicks,” he backtracks immediately. Even when he’s trying to be noble, he can’t betray your trust that far. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What did you mean, Colt?” He can hear the genuine confusion in your voice. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”
Colt takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tries to focus on the right thing to say. “I’m just trying to tell you that I am so, so sorry for anything I’ve done to hurt you. I’ve been stupid and insensitive and awful, and I wish there was a way I could make it up to you. I just…” He opens his eyes, fixes them on yours so you know he’s telling the truth. “I couldn’t let this go without making it right with you. No matter what, you mean a lot to me, and the thought of losing your friendship honestly makes me miserable. Please just tell me I haven’t messed this up beyond repair.”
Please tell me I haven’t lost your trust completely. Please tell me I haven’t damaged the person I love most beyond repair.
You stare him down for what feels like an eternity, your discerning gaze burning holes into him. Finally, you sigh, seeming to come to a decision. “No, you haven’t,” you tell him at last. “I mean, I’m still trying to process everything and sort it all out, but… it means a lot that you wanted to have this conversation.” A note of humor slips into your voice, and the twinkle in your eyes makes a very welcome reappearance. “I mean, you waited for me in the parking lot like a stalker, so that says something. Not sure what.”
Colt laughs out loud at that, all the intense pressure of the night lessening with your words. “I thought about camping outside your hotel, but I thought it might be a little much.”
“Yeah, it would have been,” you agree, scuffing your shoes on the pavement.
Colt feels like the weight of the entire world has been lifted off his shoulders, but he knows he has to keep handling this the right way if he doesn’t want to risk hurting you again.
“So, are we okay?” he asks sincerely.
You nod, smoothing your hair back and closing your eyes while you think about your response. “Yeah. Yeah, we are. Just… getting some closure and some straight-shooting takes a lot of stress out of this.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Colt agrees. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to shoot it straight with you.”
If you can really call this shooting straight.
You shake your head, raising your eyes to meet his again. “No, I should have been more upfront, too,” you admit. “It would have saved me a lot of trouble.”
Colt’s first reaction is to argue, to insist that you haven’t done a single thing wrong, that this whole tangle has been caused by his inability to let go of the feelings he has for you, but he knows it’s best to let that go. Better to end on a positive note.
“Friends?” he asks tentatively.
“Friends.” You grin at him, obviously as relieved as he is to have mended your relationship.
Great, just friends again. Exactly what we wanted. Colt elects to ignore his inner monologue this time.
With the tension lifted at last, you heave a grand sigh and nudge his shoulder in the old familiar way, heading in the direction of the studio.
“So, where are you off to?” Colt asks you, falling in step beside you.
“Train station set,” you reply lightly. “Filming for that scene is supposed to start next week, so I’m scrambling trying to get everything finished. It’s the biggest set I’ve ever created from scratch, so it’s been a serious challenge.”
Colt grins down at you, nudging your shoulder with his the same way you just did. “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he assures you, meaning every word of it. “Your sets always are.”
You grin back up at him, your cheerfulness infectious. “What about you? Any big stunts today?”
“Nah, just rehearsing some choreography for a fight scene. Easier schedule for the rest of this week.”
“That’s good,” you respond. The art trailer, empty in these early morning hours, is coming into sight now. “Maybe you can stop throwing yourself off moving vehicles for awhile.”
Colt smirks. “Yeah, that’s the plan. Unless something crazy happens on my way to the gas station or something.”
“Oh, sure. You never know with a Citgo.”
The two of you share a laugh, and suddenly everything feels back to normal. Maybe it can never be completely normal again, but after the fears that kept Colt awake all night, this feels like he’s just stepped into paradise after being cast out.
“Hey, bad guys come in all shapes and sizes,” Colt informs you, feeling his sense of humor coming back full force. “Sometimes it’s a hard-boiled gangster chasing you on top of a transfer truck; sometimes it’s a plastic bag flying off the pavement and around your head.”
“Maybe that’s the real reason why recycling is so important,” you quip. A few more steps, and the two of you are standing at the door to the art trailer, the pink rays of sunrise beginning to touch the tops of your heads. “Well, here’s my stop. Thanks again for talking with me. It really means a lot.”
Colt nods, a genuine smile crossing his face. “I couldn’t let things be strained between us. Who would patch together the props I destroy in every take?” he teases you.
“Who would destroy the handmade props I painstakingly create every day?”
“Publicity stunts wouldn’t have been the same without you to critique my color coordinating choices.”
“I was really going to miss you sneaking me a packet of Mini Muffins every morning.”
“Consider the Mini Muffins sneaked.”
You grin at that, and Colt’s heart speeds up a few beats just at the sight. He’s glad to have this image — your captivating smile, framed by the pastel light of the sunrise, happiness sparkling in your eyes — to replace the one from last night.
You don’t say a word before turning to open the door to the art trailer, clearly needing some space, so Colt turns to walk away, but the door doesn’t close behind you. When he turns back to face you, you’re lingering in the doorway, an unreadable expression on your face. Colt hesitates, not sure what you expect from him, but he’s cut off by you closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his neck.
What what what what what what WHAT WHAT WHAT—
Colt isn’t sure this is the best idea, but he certainly isn’t going to make the mistake of pushing you away again. Instead, he lets his arms fold around your waist, pulling you close against him. Every muscle in his body aches to hold you as tight as he can, and it takes all his self-control not to lift his head up a few inches, to whisper in your ear, You’re every sweet dream I’ve ever had. You’re everything I hoped love would turn out to be.
You don’t make a move to release him, and suddenly Colt realizes: this is your way of letting go of him. You’re taking one last moment to savor this closeness before you resign yourself to a simple friendship and an inevitable goodbye. With that realization, Colt grips you tighter, lets his face rest in the crook of your neck while he breathes you in.
The sun keeps rising, and still you hold onto each other as if this is the last time you’ll ever see each other.
Colt feels your arms loosen their hold around his neck slightly, and he takes that as a cue to release the death-grip he has around your waist. He didn’t realize he could feel your pounding heart against his chest until you’ve pulled back a few inches.
He’s surprised, though, when you don’t get go of him completely. You let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, your eyes searching his own for some answer that you can’t quite grasp. It’s as if you know he’s holding something back — as if you can tell how deeply he feels for you just by the way he stays absorbed in the warmth of your gaze.
A sad smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you lift one hand to rest on the side of Colt’s face. His heart instantly starts rocketing again, and all he can imagine is that you’re finally going to go for the kiss that has almost happened three times now. He holds his breath, knowing that he can’t trust himself not to seize you and kiss you with all the passion he’s holding inside.
Your fingertips trace the side of his face slowly, intimately, traveling over his cheekbone, down his jaw, right under his lips. His skin feels like it’s burning from the inside, incinerating him with heat. He knows he’s still holding your waist too tight for someone who is “just a friend,” but holding you is the only thing keeping him sane right now.
Your gaze slips down for a fraction of a second, landing on the spot where your fingers are resting tenderly. Colt’s hands are shaking from the tension. All he can think of is how close your lips are to his, how effortless it would be to lean forward a few inches and live out the daydream he’s had a thousand times before. He doesn’t even blink, unwilling to miss a second of being this close to you again.
Finally, finally, you take mercy on him and lift your fingers from his face, your own expression betraying the level of affection you feel. Right now, all Colt wants to do is close his eyes and let you trail your fingers over his face for the rest of his life, but your touch is already gone, and he finally feels like he can breathe again.
You take an unhurried step back, your eyes never leaving his. Your hands slowly slide down from his shoulders, his letting go of your waist at the same time. The distance between you suddenly feels miles wide, and it’s quite obvious that both of you want to close it again.
But neither of you does.
“Okay,” you murmur, eyes drifting across his face. The early morning sunlight is dancing through the strands of your hair, alighting on the dust particles in the air to create a mystical glow around your face. “I should go.”
Colt barely even registers his own response, still so dazed from the past few moments. “Me, too.”
You take a step inside the art trailer door, eyes hazy. “See you later?”
“Of course.”
You give him one last soft smile and walk into the art trailer. But Colt stands in the light of the rising sun for a long time after you’ve gone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
Part 5
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roseghoul26 · 3 days
Note
Hello! I would like to request Cooper Howard x gn!reader (post war, because...murderous cowboy...hnnngh), where they struggle with mental health issues like depression? I've been in a really tough spot, having no energy or motivation to do anything or really any desire to take care of myself. So I was thinking, maybe the reader's mental health is declining, they're slower and sloppier when it comes to keeping up with Cooper and he's more and more frustrated. Then one day he has enough (maybe the reader is taking too long packing up) and threatens to leave them and they're just...passive, because they really don't care anymore about what happens to them. So he realises they haven't been taking care of themselves properly for a while now and then some soft moments with him? I know this is pretty dark and you can change this however you'd like, but I'm dying for some hurt/comfort with this man 🥺 It's totally cool if it's too much for you, if you decide to not write this, please just let me know, so I don't wait for it. Thank you so much, I love your Cooper fics <3
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x gn!Reader
Synopsis: You’ve been struggling lately, putting both you and your traveling companion in danger. He was bound to confront you about it eventually. Tags: Prompt Request, Not Beta Read, Gender Neutral Reader, Depression, Mental Health, Mentions of Suicide, Disagreements, Comfort, Lazy Day, Cuddling, Beginning Relationships Author's Note: Trigger warning for topics relating to mental health, such as depression and suicide. Please do not read if you’re not in a good mental space. Take care of yourselves. Also, everyone’s experience with depression and mental health issues differs, so I am writing this story the way I experience it. Also, this was a fun challenge to write. Like how the hell would he approach a topic like this? It’s been fun to explore his character like that, and I hope I did it justice. Thank you so much for the request! <333
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You used to be able to keep up with the Ghoul. 
Wherever he went, you followed, tearing through the Wastleland without hindrance. You watched his back, and he yours, a security that was unheard of in this world. It was a trusting friendship, bordering on something else, something that neither of you had crossed yet. You couldn't compete with over a hundred years of experience with a gun, but you were able to hold your own quite well. You were a decent shot and someone who never let anyone get the drop on you, senses always sharp. 
So when you started missing easy targets and found yourself surprised by opponents one too many times, you knew it was a matter of time before the Ghoul started asking questions and not believing the first lie that you said. The first time it had happened, you blamed it on your lack of sleep, and he seemed to buy it. And maybe you convinced yourself it was just a lack of sleep, ignoring the darkness that had begun to emerge in your mind. You just needed to rest, was what you told yourself. 
It happened again a few days later, completely missing a target in front of you. Your reactions had begun to slow down, too, unable to avoid the swing of a blade, cutting across your cheek. It was like your body gave up on wanting to move, an unbearable weariness to your muscles that you were unable to shake. Later, as you bandaged the wound on your cheek, the Ghoul confronted you, demanding to know why you were acting so sloppy. You’d merely shrugged, offering up the idea that you were sick. This time he seemed less convinced, yet he had let the matter go. 
You knew why you were acting the way you were. You weren’t unfamiliar with depression, far from it. It was something you’d dealt with your entire life, coming and going like waves. You’d go days, weeks, months and you’d be fine, but then a flip would switch. You’d lose your energy, your motivation, wanting nothing more than to just lay on the ground and never get back up. You’d stop taking care of your body. You’d lose your appetite. Your thoughts would turn dark, ideations and ideas flashing in your mind, things that you’d never tell another soul. 
For the months you’d been traveling with the Ghoul, you’d been able to keep a reign on your depression. Sure, you had your off days, but nothing like this. It was like the universe was punishing you for having such an excellent past months. 
But how could you explain this to your traveling partner? How could you explain that you didn’t have the energy to continue existing, to continue fighting? He needed you to be alert, to not have your thoughts occupied with something, that in perspective to the Wasteland around you, was trivial. 
So you kept your mouth shut, forcing yourself to appear alert and unaffected. You forced those thoughts to the back of your mind. You forced your body to move, no matter how much it screamed at you to just be still.
But it seemed that all that bottling your thoughts up did was make it worse. As the days dragged on, you stopped talking, only muttering small words whenever the Ghoul asked you a question. You’d normally spend the time traveling conversing, and the Ghoul did try to initiate a conversation with you, but no amount of questions and joking and jabs could get you to break. Eventually, he fell quiet too.
Sleeping became a challenge. You’d think with how exhausted your body felt, you’d be able to sleep easily, but the opposite was true. Hours would tick by, and you’d lie awake, getting up the next morning more exhausted than before you went to bed. Your face, already a bit gaunt from living such a difficult life, had grown even more so, the circles around your eyes darkening and your lips growing more chapped. 
You stopped eating, turning away the food he offered you. After you went a few days without eating more than a bite, he practically forced spoonfuls of food into your mouth, snapping at you the entire time. It was humiliating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to change. You just wanted to be done. 
You could tell that your demeanor was starting to annoy the hell out of the Ghoul, whose words had turned shorter and snappier. If you took too long, he’d grab you by the shoulder and drag you along, like an upset parent with their child. Your cheeks would burn every time, tears pickling your eyes, and you’d hang your head. 
There was a tension growing between you and the Ghoul, your friendship growing thin. His guard was up constantly, unable to trust you any longer to watch his back, which hurt you more than any knife or gun. Soft glances disappeared, his gaze scrutinizing when he looked at you. Light touches from him reserved for when you were at rest were no more, as you chose to keep to yourself every night. Instead of walking side-by-side, you’d linger a few feet behind him. You pretended like it was easier this way, to make him push you away, but it was tearing you apart. 
But eventually, that tension snapped. Too many close calls, too many sluggish movements, too many half-hearted excuses finally made him break. You’d just gotten up for the day, another sleepless night behind you, and you were packing up your few belongings. You must’ve been taking too long, because you heard him sigh audibly, standing in the open doorway of the room you’d sheltered in for the night. “What’s your fuckin’ issue?” He growled, arms crossed tight over his chest.
You looked up, feigning confusion. “I dunno what-”
“Bullshit,” he cut you off. He began to walk towards you, his steps methodical, threatening. “You’ve been actin’ like this for weeks, and you’ve only offered me half-assed excuses.” He was seething, and understandably so. He crouched down in front of you, rendering you unable to escape. “So, you,” he stuck a finger in your chest, barely avoiding hitting you, “are gonna tell me why. And don’t even think ‘bout lyin’, sweetheart.”
You swallowed, heart hammering in your chest at the confrontation. Words flooded your mind, a full explanation on the tip of your tongue, yet you just couldn’t bring yourself to utter it. Your mouth opened and closed, struggling, until you eventually just gave up. Sighing, you just shook your head, which pissed him off even more. 
A disbelieving laugh left him, and he ran a gloved hand over his face. “No? You’re kiddin’ me, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Ya know, I’ve tried to be lenient. I bought into your fuckin’ lies that you were ‘just tired’, ‘just sick’. I tried to give ya space, to give ya time to get out of this. But you’re gonna get us both killed if ya don’t fix yourself. I can’t be distracted out there, constantly worried ‘bout you and keepin’ you alive, ‘cause it seems like that’s the last thing on your mind.”
He took a breath, steadying his rising voice. “So I’m gonna give ya one more chance to explain yourself, or else I’m leavin’ without ya.”
“Then leave.” Your response came almost immediately, your voice lacking any inflection. Even though in the back of your mind you were screaming at him not to leave, you kept an air of indifference about you, unable to make yourself care. It would be easier if he just left, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t be putting anyone else in danger, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt you felt of him worrying about you so much. And it would be so much easier to just disappear if there was no one looking for you.
He wasn’t expecting that as a response if the look on his face told you anything. His brow muscles were raised, leaning back from you in shock. But the way he was watching you, it was like he was observing you in a different light, dots beginning to connect in his mind. “You’ll die out there without me.” 
You merely shrugged your shoulders, glancing down to continue packing your belongings, no longer able to look him in the eye. He didn’t respond, simply standing up with a sigh. You didn’t look up, not even as you heard him walk away, backing towards the entrance of the room. You didn’t look up, even as you heard the surprisingly gentle click of the door as it shut. You didn’t look up, even as the tears that you’d been holding for the past weeks finally fell.
You were alone.
You thought it would make you feel better like there would be a weight lifted off your shoulders. But everything just felt heavier, the thoughts in your mind becoming a tempest, making you physically weak. Expletives tumbled from your lips as you sagged down onto your arms, head hung. Of course, he’d fucking leave, you idiot. No one wants to deal with your moping.
A part of you wanted to chase after him, to beg him to stay, but you already felt pathetic enough. You couldn’t blame him for leaving, not at all. You were weighing him down, putting his life in danger; he said so himself. He could only deal with you for so long. You should be grateful that he didn’t leave sooner.
The sound of rustling fabric made you jump, finally looking up. The Ghoul had taken off his jacket, laying it across the back of the couch he had slept on, never having left the room at all. Stunned, you watched him sit, taking his hat off in the process and setting it on the floor. He finally caught your eye then, a soft look on his face, a look you hadn’t seen in a long while. 
“I thought you left,” you whispered, sitting back upright. Embarrassment warmed your cheeks, and you tried to wipe the tears that had fallen on them. 
“I ain’t leavin’ ya, sweetheart.”
“Why not?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you want me to go?” You’d never shaken your head faster in your life. “Then I’m stayin’.”
“But why?”
He sighed. “‘Cause I care ‘bout you. I… Is that too hard to believe?”
It is. Unable to find words, you just shrugged again. 
Something akin to regret or remorse flashed across his face, and muttering something under his breath he reclined against the couch. He was upset, but even now you could tell it was not because of you, at least not fully. “C’mere,” he murmured, patting the couch beside him. “You look like you’re gonna fuckin’ bolt at any second.”
Taking a steadying breath, you complied, albeit with some difficulty, your legs barely wanting to function. His gaze didn’t leave you once, as much as you wished it would, making you want to collapse in on yourself. The walk to the couch felt like it was miles long, but you eventually made your way over to it and him. 
He rolled his eyes when you just stood there in front of him, unsure of what to do with yourself. “Sit down, I ain’t gonna fuckin’ bite.” In another situation, you knew he’d add some comment like unless ya want me to, but he bit his tongue. The couch groaned as you sat next to the Ghoul, keeping a foot between your bodies. “Talk to me,” he commanded, yet his voice was gentle. “What the hell’s goin’ on?”
You picked at the skin around your nails, no doubt drawing blood. “I’m… I’m not quite sure how to explain it,” you responded, and you expected your words to upset the man even more. But he nodded his head slowly, an almost understanding look on his face. “I’m just… done."
“Done with… what? Bein’ out on the road?” You shook your head. “Travellin’ with me?” You shook your head again, this time more vehemently. “Done with what?” You knew that he knew the answer to his question, but he wanted you to say it.
“I’m done with… with existing. I just can’t bring myself to care anymore. I’m just so tired of it all.” You sagged back against the couch like speaking took a toll on your body. “I’m so tired.”
He didn’t respond for a while, mulling over your words. “That… that explains a lot,” he chuckled humourlessly. “Your mind won’t just leave ya the hell alone, will it? It's like all your mind can focus on are these terrible fuckin’ things, no matter what ya do. And it just weighs on ya, like a million pounds, getting worse with every passin’ day until you just wanna… give up.”
He explained it perfectly, and you cocked your head to the side, a bit confused about how he was able to do so. “I ain’t a stranger to what you’re goin’ through. We’re well fuckin’ acquainted, to say the least. So I shoulda recognized it sooner with ya.” 
He paused, sighing. “Wanna know somethin’?” You nodded. “I was too busy thinkin’ ‘bout what I did to upset ya that I didn’t bother to think of any other possible reason as to why you’re actin’ the way you are. But once I realized it wasn’t my fault, not entirely, instead of bein’ there for ya, I was an ass. I thought, because I’m a damn idiot, that you were just mopin’ around for the hell of it, putting us both in danger simply ‘cause you were tired or some shit. Not once did I stop to think why. And I apologize.”
“You don’t gotta-” He cut you off with a pointed look. “I… I accept your apology, then.”
He nodded slowly, content. “I’d like to help ya, sweetheart. I know nothin’ I say or do is gonna make it go away like that… but I’d like to try. Whatever ya need from me, and you’ve got it.”
“I’m not sure what I need exactly,” you admitted quietly.
“When ya figure it out, will ya let me know?” You nodded.
“Just… be patient. As difficult as that is for you.” You hadn’t meant for the jab to come out, but you weren’t taking it back. Especially when a loud laugh left the Ghoul, making a smile of your own appear on your face. It was faint, yet it was there.
An almost starstruck expression appeared on his face, his laughter dying out. “I missed seein’ ya smile,” he murmured as if it was a subconscious thought.
You ducked your head, making him laugh again. “As for bein’ patient, well, I can be that, if that’s what ya need.”
“It’ll take some time,” you cautioned again, indirectly giving him a chance to back out of this. 
“Time ain’t an issue. I’ll wait as long as it fuckin’ takes.”
“You mean it?” Your voice was so soft, barely audible to either of you. 
You watched as one of his gloved hands inched towards you, palm upturned. Tentatively, you placed your in his, eyes growing wide when he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “I swear,” he uttered, sealing the promise with another press of his lips.
As you returned your tingling hand to your lap, his eyes scanned over your face, a furrow appearing between his brow. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten somethin’? Somethin’ that I didn’t force ya to eat,” he added when you opened your mouth to respond. 
Your silence said enough, and he leaned down to his bag, which he had placed beside the couch when he sat. After a few moments of rustling through, he handed you a small bag of what appeared to be jerky, as well as a small canteen of water. “It ain’ human,” he added when you eyed the bag suspiciously before taking it.
The jerky was salty and tough when you took a bite, not quite wanting to, but unable to not eat under his gaze. You ate in silence until your stomach was full and your teeth hurt from the tough material. Taking a swig of water, you could feel your eyes growing heavy, eating seemingly draining your energy more than replenishing it. Stifling a yawn, you shoved the canteen back into his hand, and you noticed he had an almost pleased look on his face. 
You were confused, though, when he stood, making his way to the entrance of the room. For a moment, those thoughts flashed in your mind that told you that he was finally leaving, that he realized how pathetic you were. But instead of doing any of those things, you watched as he simply wedged a chair under the handle of the door, like he had done before you went to bed for the night. 
“What’re you doing?”
“We takin’ the day off. Doctor’s orders.”
“But aren’t we supposed to be in Filly in a few days?”
“We’ll be fine. You are gonna spend today catchin’ up on some much-needed rest.” He stood in front of you now, a moth-eaten blanket in his hands. 
“And what are you gonna do?” You asked, and he shrugged. 
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. Go ‘head, lie down.”
Your eyes quickly scanned the couch, and you took a deep breath before speaking again. “The couch is big enough for us both, no?”
For the second time that day, you’d stunned him with your responses. “Is… is that what ya want?”
Encouraged that he hadn’t just outrightly said no, you nodded your head, and a fond look crossed his features. He handed you the blanket before sitting once more, but instead of his back being against the cushions, he rested it against one of the armrests, not before tucking a pillow in front of it. 
Once he was situated, he opened up his arms to you, and you could’ve laughed at how uncertain he looked. Hands rested on your body when you laid down, head on his chest, laying on your stomach, and you made sure the blanket covered both your bodies as best you could. You weren’t too worried about covering all of you, though, with the sheer amount of warmth he was radiating. 
His eyes were already on you when you glanced up, a smile pulling at his lips. “Comfy?”
“Yes.” Your voice was barely audible, but he heard it. 
You felt his fidget with something in his hand behind your back, but you didn’t have to wait long to find out what he was doing. You felt fingers run along your scalp, making you shudder, before combing through any hair there. “Alright?”
You sighed contently, nodding your head before letting it fall back onto his chest. He continued to run his fingers there, his other hand tracing patterns across your shoulders. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until now, finding it hard to keep your eyes open. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. Safe from the world outside this room. Safe from the thoughts that plagued your mind. Safe from everything. 
He didn’t have to see your face to know that you were struggling to stay awake. “Go to bed. I’ll be here when you wake.”
“Promise?”
“Ain’t fuckin’ like I’m gonna be able to get up,” he chuckled, before taking a more serious tone. “I promise.”
That was all you needed to hear before you finally let the final strings of consciousness leave your grasp. Before you lost control of all your senses, though, you felt him lean down, pressing a barely-there kiss to the top of your head. “You’ll get through this, sweetheart.”
You believed him.
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boothillssugarmomma · 7 hours
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sunday likes shiny stuff bc ravens likes shiny stuff, its just an idea
I love that idea! Birds all like shiny stuff so I could see him sneaking away with your jewelry and trinkets!
🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀
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Shiny Treasures
(Sunday x Fem!Reader)
cw-: lying Sunday, fluff, embarrassed boy, nervous boy 🤭
🎀 authorsnote: I literally was supposed to post this three weeks ago I'm so sorry 😭
please don't steal my work!
Taglist🎀HSR Master List🎀 Other Lists🎀
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Sunday had...a certain fondness for shiny things...a rather childish and unanticipated flaw to his character, really. No matter how small, insignificant or worthless they were.
Perhaps it had something to do with the halovians' innate desire for attention and glory, that would explain it. Or maybe it was because he was like a bird. But whatever the case, he was rather drawn to the gleam of precious gems and glittery accessories.
He sometimes tries to snatch your jewelry, thinking that you wouldn't notice, but fails miserably and you find that adorable.
"Hey hon do you know where that necklace I was wearing yesterday went?" You hum, peeking into his office.
Your boyfriend is hard at work, staring at some papers with concentration as he writes on them.
Sunday looked at you through the corner of his eye. His eyes looked a bit panicked before he started to concentrate on his papers again, but at this moment, he was just pretending.
"No, I don't...why my love?"
He answered with a simple reply. He thought that might work, right?
"Oh really?" You smile as you lean against the doorway. "I was going to wear it to that event we need to go to tonight."
Sunday stayed silent. And for some reason, his face started to redden a bit.
He knew that you weren't a fool. Why did he even think that you didn't know he stole your jewelry? Sunday sighed.
"Fine."
He opened his left drawer to carefully pick up your necklace and hold it out to you. Blushing as he looks away.
You snicker walking forward to lean down and kiss his forehead. "I know you like shiny things baby...but try to work on it?" Your voice soothes his embarrassment a bit.
Sunday looks at you, his face going even redder when you kissed his forehead.
"Mhm...I will...sorry"
He answered softly. He definitely didn't want to admit that he had an unhealthy obsession with shiny things, but he knew you already learned his secret anyways.
"Now...do you know where my rings are?" You glance into his eyes, yours have a hint of amusement while his are just plain panic.
"N-No..."
Sunday looked away. You knew he was lying again. He was bad at it, and he knew that you probably knew he was acting. You couldn't help but find that adorable.
"You must have placed them in our room...maybe on the nightstand!" He stammers a bit with his lie.
This wasn't like him and he hated it, the lying was killing him even if it couldn't be helped. He knew you weren't mad, you were amused, you loved his obsessions. But he still felt out of control with himself.
"Okkk..." You hum before kissing his nose. "So if I were to...check my nightstand in an hour...would they be back?" Your eyes narrow playfully as they gaze into his.
He blushed again. He really wasn't good at lying. Especially to you...his lovely girlfriend.
"Y-yes."
He replied. Sunday still found it quite difficult to look at you in the eyes while he was embarrassed like this. Why did he even steal them in the first place?
"Alright my little dove..." You smile softly, walking to the door before stopping and looking over your shoulder. "Oh and I wanted to tell you that I hung the suit you'll be wearing up on your door for when you get ready."
"T-Thank you, darling."
Sunday sighed of relief. He thought that you were going to keep asking him for jewelry back, reminding him of his little habit for the rest of the day. Sunday stood and followed to the door to grab his suit.
He quickly decided to give you a kiss on the cheek as a way to apologize for his silly behaviour.
"Let me know when you want me to help tie your tie. I'll be in our room." You smile before walking down the corridor out of his sight.
"Mhm, will do."
Sunday let out a heavy breath. Now that you're out of his sight, he has time to collect himself. He can't stop thinking about the feeling of your skin on his lips.
His thoughts always go crazy when you're around.
After he starts to prepare himself for the event, reading over his speech, making quick changes. He finally slips his suit on before glancing into his office mirror and remembering his tie.
He walks down the corridor where you had walked a bit previously into your shared room.
Glancing in he notices you sitting at your vanity, clearly doing your last preparations as well. His eyes soften as he watches you, his beautiful dove.
Finally he cleared his throat and spoke. "Hey, darling? Do you mind helping out a bit?" Holding the tie up he blushes embarrassed.
"Hmm?" You hum looking over your shoulder and glance at his undone tie. A warm laugh escapes your lips before you nod. "Cmere honey."
He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your back. He looked at your neck, and decided to give a little peck to it. He then hid his face in your shoulders.
"I don't know why, but I feel quite embarrassed right now. I mean I should be able to do my own tie..." Sunday sighs softly. "Please Help me out, will you darling...?" He asked softly, his hot breath against your neck.
"Of course my love..." You hum, making quick work to turn around and start tying his tie.
His eyes catch a glint of light out of the corner of them. Glancing to your vanity he notices a pair of sparkly diamond earrings, ones he bought for you no doubt.
He caught himself looking at the earrings. But he was just so tempted to take them right now, but decided to try to restrain himself.
Sunday waited patiently for you to tie his tie. He found this kind of bonding with you wholesome...if only he wasn't thinking about those damned earrings.
He couldn't handle it anymore, so when you were distracted he used his arm length to his advantage and swiped the earrings, putting them in his pocket.
Sunday felt a sense of guilt, stealing your earrings, but he also felt satisfied. He had to act normal now, and hope you didn't notice he pocketed your earrings.
"All done!" You smile brightly as you turn to the mirror to show him. "God you look so handsome..."
His blush returns, even though he's used to your compliments...he can't ever get used to the notion that you're his. "Thank you, darling. You look absolutely stunning yourself."
He said, and gave you a smile. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your hair lightly.
You both stand there for a few minutes, gazing at the mirror and at each other. But eventually the silence had to be broken.
"Ok! Go grab your speech and we can head out!" You smile patting his chest. He nods softly before you watch him walk to the door.
Sunday was obviously trying to rush out of the room, with a sense of panic in his mind that maybe you somehow noticed the earrings he just swiped.
"Oh and Sunday?"
His body tenses as he places a hand on the doorway. He gulps a bit before turning to you. "Y-Yes honey?"
"Earrings please." You snicker before holding your hand out. Eyes amused instead of angry.
"You noticed...?"
He asked, looking at your hand nervously. He slowly reached for his pocket and took out the earrings, reaching to hand them to you while looking away. He was as red as a flame spawn...
"It's hard not to when you bumped my waist with your hand while trying to reach for them..." You roll your eyes playfully.
He looks down at the ground, his wings drooping a bit. You gently cup his face and tilt his head upwards a bit.
"I could never get mad at my cute little dove..." You kiss his cheek. "Its kinda cute..."
"Heh...you mean that?"
He let out a sigh of relief. At least you didn't get mad at him for stealing your jewelry. He still had a hint of curiosity in his eyes though, wondering just how much jewelry you had.
Instead of asking he just gave you a small peck on the nose.
"My little Halovian..." You chuckle softly. "Such a jewelry snatcher." Walking to the front door, slipping your heels on. "Is your sister also like this?"
"Oh believe me...hah, she's worse."
"...remind me to never bring jewelry around her."
"Noted, my dear."
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🎀End🎀
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