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whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 months

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Pairing : Boyfriend!Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : angst ; Hyunjin is just sad (which is honestly relatable) ; reader thinks they're pregnant ; reader might be pregnant ; symptoms of pregnancy ; fluff ending ; Word Count : 2.0k Request : Annony : Can I request and angsty fic Where Hyunjin has just been going through a really rough time and y/n tries her best to be there for him and keeps waiting for the right time to tell him she thinks she’s pregnant. He just keeps crying and he doesn’t know why he’s so sad, but slowly he gets out of it a bit. One morning he wakes up because y/n is having morning sickness and showing other symptoms so she has no choice but to finally open up and tell him everything. They take a test and well…I’ll let you take creative control after this. I’m really excited I’ve thought this request through a lot and I hope you decide to write it

“Hey, you okay?” Your coworker asked as she walked into the breakroom. Your head had been resting against the table, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you tried to count your breaths. “Feeling dizzy again?” She asked when you didn’t answer her first question, and you gave her weak thumbs up in response. “Maybe you are… you know… the p word.” She whispered, and it’s not like it was a bad word to say, it’s just that you didn’t want anyone else that you worked with to know.

“I’m too nervous to test…” You mumbled, and she knew exactly why. She was your only confidant at this point, especially since Hyunjin was going through his own personal problems. You didn’t want to stack anything else on top of whatever else was bothering him. All you did know was that, no matter how much you tried to help him or console him, he’d be right back to crying soon after. “Plus, it would be too soon… I don’t want to test too early or anything…”

To be honest, home life wasn’t really the best right now. It’s not that there were any arguments, there was no fighting, but it was obvious that Hyunjin was stressed about something, and you were mentally stressed about potentially being pregnant, so the last thing you needed was triple the stress for both of you if a test came out positive. Even just thinking about it felt like too much right now.

“Well you can’t wait forever. I mean… With his job, he gets stressed very easily. What are you gonna do? You can’t just hide potentially important things from him every time he gets upset or stressed out.” You rolled your eyes at your coworkers' sudden nagging, and while you knew that it came from a place of concern and care, you didn’t need that right now. You didn’t need to be parented, you needed someone to just be there for you.

“He doesn’t get stressed easily, and you make it sound like he’s like this all the time. I’m not hiding things from him either, I’m giving him time to get in the right place mentally before dropping something like this on him.” You quickly defended your boyfriend, silently wishing that you hadn’t told your coworker anything at all. “He’s a good boyfriend, and just because he gets stressed and upset sometimes doesn’t change that.”

“I’m not saying that he’s not a good boyfriend for you… I just feel like you cater to him and his feelings a lot because of his job and your feelings get pushed to the backburner.” She tried to explain, but she couldn’t be further from the truth.

“I’m not having this conversation right now. I appreciate you caring and trying to look out for me, but my relationship is fine. He’s a great guy… Okay? I have to get back to work now, enjoy your break.”

///

Hyunjins moment seemed to last longer and longer. He’d lock himself in his room the moment he walked through the front door and you’d hear him cry for hours until things went silent, and the only reason things got quiet is because he’d cry himself to sleep. There was nothing you could do to help him because he wouldn’t even talk to you about it, and a part of you wondered if he’d ever get out of the funk he was in.

With the time that passed, the symptoms only grew stronger. Your headaches were getting worse, the nausea was almost unbearable, even your boobs hurt. You wanted to excuse it as reading into the symptoms too much, you thought that your mind was playing tricks on you. You wanted to find any reason you could to hold off on testing until Hyunjin got better because you didn’t want to be alone when you found out, no matter what the result was.

When Hyunjin was around, you tried to hide the symptoms from him. If you started feeling sick, you’d quickly go off to the bathroom and turn on the sink, hoping that you wouldn’t actually start throwing up. The tiredness that you felt was written off as working too many hours and being on your feet too long. Luckily he was none the wiser to the soreness in your breasts because you hadn’t been with him in any physical way since he had been in his funk. You missed him, and you wanted to blame the potentially surging hormones for the tears that would be shed when you’d lay in the same bed beside him at night without a single kiss or those three words that would make you feel like he did still love you.

The longer it lasted, the more you would think about what your coworker had said. No matter how much you tried to get those words out of your head, they would constantly pop up. When you would hear him crying in the room and you’d try to help him, but it was like he was shutting you out. Not only did it feel like he was pushing you away, but it felt like you were by yourself. He wasn’t the only one going through something right now, and you wanted so badly to tell him, but for some reason you were trying so hard to protect him that you weren’t even worried about yourself.

Even still, you didn’t want to give up on him. You loved him, and you truly believed that he just needed time, that he’d get better sooner or later, and no matter what, you’d stick by him, even if it meant pushing your own stresses, your own worries to the side until he got better.

///

He was starting to feel better, he really was. It had been a week since the last time he had cried, and while he still doesn’t fully understand himself why things had gotten so bad or why he was so upset, he was thankful that he had you by his side the entire time, even if it didn’t seem that way. He wanted to take you out today, to show you that he appreciated you and everything that you do for him. He wanted to show you that he truly does love you, and that he’s grateful that you didn’t give up on him through this entire thing.

The bed was already empty, which wasn’t rare as of lately considering he always seemed to sleep in, but one look at the clock on the bedside table made him fully aware that it was too early for even you to be awake. He could have sworn you came to bed last night, that he had felt the warmth of your body beside him underneath the covers. Had you gone to the couch at some point in the middle of the night? Were you finally pulling away?

Just as he was pushing the comforter off of his body, he heard what sounded like gagging and choking and he never moved so fast in his life. Tripping over his own feet, he rushed into the bathroom to find you doubled over the toilet, sweat beading up on your forehead and spit dribbling down from the corner of your mouth. It’s like you didn’t even realize he was there, or maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge him as you tried your best to seemingly catch your breath.

“Baby… What’s wrong?” He whispered, kneeling down beside you to try to get you to look at him, but you only shook your head, pushing yourself up to your feet with the help of the side of the bathtub, leaving him on the floor and even more worried than before. “Are you mad at me? I’m sorry… Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No…” You said, your voice slightly raspy, and he could only assume that it was because of getting sick, but you sounded so tired too. He didn’t know how sick you were, he didn’t know what was going on or how long you had been feeling like this, but he wanted to be there for you now, no matter what was wrong. “I think… I might be pregnant…” Your head lowered, as if you were ashamed to be telling him that, although he wasn’t sure why.

Of course, he wasn’t ready to be told something like that, he was sure that no man was ever truly ready to hear that, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t ready to step up and be the man that you and his potential child would need. “Okay… Well, I can run to the store and pick up some tests and we can find out if you are…”

“I… Already have the tests. They’re in my purse…” You admitted and he nodded along slowly, trying not to get too upset that you had potentially been going through this for longer than he thought. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay first. I didn’t want to do this alone…” Alone… He had left you all alone to deal with these worries and these thoughts and these fears. “You… You are okay… Right?”

His head nodded swiftly, his eyes that were brimming with tears of guilt glistened in the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. “I am… I’m okay. You’re not alone, I’m here and no matter what happens… I’m going to stay here with you. I love you…” He finally got up off the floor, scrambling to his feet just to stand in front of you, his eyes finally meeting yours for what felt like the first time. “You have nothing to worry about… I’ll always be here… I promise.”

///

“Out of the way! Out of the way! Move it! Excuse us! Make room! Pregnant girlfriend coming through!” Hyunjin shouted as he walked with you down the halls of the JYPE building. He was so loud, you were sure that even the people the next floor up could hear him coming, he was like a damn fire truck with its sirens on. You rolled your eyes at the rambunctiousness of it all. “What? I just don’t want anyone to bump into you or anything. I’m trying to keep you and baby Jinnie safe.”

Your eyebrows arched at the little nickname that he had given the baby, you hadn’t heard him say it before. You had had an ultrasound the day before, and the doctor had asked if you wanted to know the gender of the baby, but you and Hyunjin had both agreed to keeping it a secret until the birth. “Baby Jinnie, huh? Where’d you come up with that name?” You quizzed, wondering if maybe his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had just asked the doctor what the baby would be on his way out of the exam room.

“Isn’t that what they do for sons in America? People name the baby boys after their father? He can be little Jinnie Jr. right?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at you. His arms were wrapped protectively around you as you rode the elevator up to the right floor, and as cute and innocent as he looked right now, you couldn’t help but be a little suspicious.

“Hmm… A son? Are we having a boy?” His lips were drawn in, turning into a thin line and you could read the guiltiness on his face. He nodded his head slowly, clearly trying to read your reaction after having basically spoiled the surprise. “You just couldn’t wait to find out, could you?” You teased, and he let out a little sigh of relief when he realized that you weren’t angry. How could you be angry though? He wanted to know and you weren’t going to get mad at him for finding out.

“Maybe we can do like… A baby shower, and a surprise gender reveal for everyone else!” He proposed the idea, and he sounded so excited, there was no way that you could turn him down, plus it sounded like fun. “The guys really want to know whether they’re getting a niece or a nephew, they’re gonna be so happy to find out!” He had been talking so loudly on the elevator, but once the doors slid open, his voice dropped to a whisper, his lips lingering right beside your ear. “This is our secret though, don’t tell them.”

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vxntagedior · 1 year

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drunken love affair

summary | college frat wedding

pairing | frat boy!james potter x fem!reader

warning | fluff, drinking, everyone is drunk, james is drunk and in love

word count | 2.2k

Joining a frat was not James’s first thought when he started university, let alone becoming frat president. Always making sure to put his studies first, members of the frat noticed how disconnected James had become from everyone.

Into his freshman year, second semester was when he had met you. It was 7:55 and James was still half asleep, not having enough time to get some coffee or any caffeine for that matter before leaving for his first class of the day.

James wasn’t a morning person, but the 8am class was the only offering and he needed to take the class.

Blinking his eyes rapidly to wake himself up, you could probably still see the sleep marks on his face and his bedhead was evident. So when you had sat down next to him, James was not prepared.

Hearing shuffling next to him, James looked over to see the most beautiful girl on campus. First of all, he couldn’t believe how put together you were for it being so early, and how you smelled like peaches. James stared linger, surprisingly looking because you hadn’t looked his away.

He tore his gaze away from you when the professor started the lecture, introducing them before asking everyone to turn to a neighbor and introduce themselves.

“Hi.” Hearing your melodic voice, James smiled softly, turning towards you, “I’m Y/n, first year.”

“James.” He replied groggily, his morning voice still evident, “Also a first year.”

Walking into the house, each of the pledges greeting you immediately. You always giggled at the antics of the pledges, the boys desperate to join and were willing to do anything. James and the rest of the brothers were not cruel like some of the other frats on campus, there were bad things here and there but you remembered waking up to over 30 text messages on your birthday, one from each of the pledges.

Saying hello to the rest of the brothers, you made your way up to James’s room, knocking on the door before entering.

Frowning, you noticed how James was in the same spot he was in when you had left earlier that morning for your class.

“James, did you go to class today?” It was into the evening, the sun starting to set soon. As spring came, the days became longer and you were sure that James was probably sitting at his desk for at least 8 hours.

“No, I need to finish this report.” He muttered towards you, barely sparing you a glance. You knew there wasn’t anything you could do to pull him away from his work. Sighing to yourself, you set down your stuff, pressing a kiss to his temple before heading back downstairs.

Sirius could see the defeated look on your face when you went into the kitchen, starting to make him something to eat knowing he probably didn’t eat the entire day.

“You alright there Y/n/n?” Sirius questioned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just worried about James.” You whispered, leaning against the counter, “He’s overworking himself, and you know how he gets it, I just need to find something to get him out of his head.”

Saying nothing more, you left with a plate heading back upstairs leaving Sirius in the kitchen. Keeping your words in his head, it was like the lights in his head switched on.

Running like a maniac around the house, all the brothers and pledges not even sparing a glance to him, a normal occurrence.

Remus being the social chair had been a running joke because of how anti-social he looked when you first met him.

“I have…an idea.” Sirius held onto Remus’s bedroom door frame, doubled down, the other hand on his knee as he caught his breath. “We should have a wedding.”

Remus’s eyes widened, “Sirius we’ve only been together for 6 months, it’s-”

“Not for us.” Sirius interrupted, “For James and Y/n.”

“I don’t think either of them want that either.” Remus answered.

“Not like a real wedding, well yes a wedding but James has been in a funk and we haven’t held a social in a while, invite the other frats and sororities and fake marry James and Y/n.”

Remus just sat with the thought for the moment, before he wanted to protest, Sirius beat him to it.

“Don’t say no, I know you think it is a good idea.” Sirius defended himself. Before Remus could even answer his boyfriend, Sirius had already left the room.

Sirius didn’t bring the idea up to you, hoping it would be a surprise so when James ‘proposed’, you’d give a real reaction.

Finally taking time away from his work, James thought the timing was perfect because of your anniversary that was coming up, he wanted to make it special. Luckily going to school in the city, he was surrounded by higher end jewelry stores.

James spent days trying to find you the perfect ring. It wasn’t just some fake wedding ring he was looking for, but a promise ring. James knew from the moment he met you that he never wanted to let you go.

After looking for almost a week now, James was defeated, he had lost hope and along with that had gone to almost every shop within a 5 mile radius.

Finishing up with class and heading into the city for lunch, James was trying to come up with some idea of what to do when he walked past it.

He froze on the street, the people around him a little annoyed that he didn’t keep going. He stared into the window of the shop, looking at the ring on display. Going into the shop, he didn’t spare any more time before buying the ring.

The velvet box was in his pocket when he arrived back at the house, sending out a text to Sirius to get enough roses for each pledge to have one.

The brothers and pledges worked the rest of the afternoon until you arrived, helping James with his proposal.

Getting out of the lab, it was well past your dinner time, you were sore from standing for hours, working with lab partners who were not making it any easier. You wanted to see James, eat dinner and go to bed.

Upon entering the house, you felt something off. The house looked cleaner and smelled nice, and though the main lights were never turned on, the color of the lights were different.

Turning the corner towards the main part of the house, you were met with a tunnel of pledges.

“For you.” The first one said, offering you the rose. From there each pledge handed you a rose as you continued towards the main living room.

Soon as the pledges ended, it turned into brothers, the ones you were closest with, ending with Remus and Sirius handing you a rose.

Turning back to the main living room, you noticed how the lights were dimmed and there were candles everywhere, and James standing in the middle.

“Jamie, what is this?” You smiled, the bouquet of roses still in your hand.

“I’ve been busy lately and Sirius thought we needed something for a social event, and then what better than a wedding.” James laughed. You stared at your boyfriend in shock as he got down on one knee.

He just laughed quietly to himself before looking back up at you, “Will you marry me?”

“Of course you numb nuts.” You laughed getting down on your knees with him, letting him slide the ring onto your ringer, before kissing him.

All the boys cheered, as James wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to the ground. Shrieking, you tightened your arms around James as he kissed you again.

“We’re getting married.” You smiled, resting your forehead against his.

“Yes we are.”

Dressed in white surrounded by girls from other sororities with all sorts of drinks everywhere. The entire house was plastered, the brothers making sure you and James don’t see each other until the ceremony.

“Shot!” Marlene yelled out, passing around shooters to everyone before handing the last one to you, “To the bride!”

The rest of the girls echoed their words, just you smiled at the antics of her before drinking. Your face scrunched up at the taste, knowing you weren’t drunk enough to be taking shots.

“Oh isn’t this exciting.” Dorcas expressed. Her and Marlene had deemed themselves as your ‘bridesmaids’, trying to make it seem as real as possible.

“You ready Y/n/n?” Sirius peeked his head inside. The rest of the girls scrambled out of the room while Marlene helped you with the veil while Dorcas was getting out a stain from your dress already.

“Quit it you two.” You gasped, “Everyone here is drunk, no one is going to notice a small stain.”

Gladly accepting Sirius’s hand, you let him guide him out to the backyard. Slipping his hand into his pants pocket he pulled out a flask, offering it towards you.

“To clear your last minute jitters.” He smirked. You just smiled, taking the flask and taking a sip.

Coming outside, you just laughed seeing everyone in the audience practically screaming for you as Sirius walked you down the aisle. Seeing James at the altar who was probably cheering the loudest out of everyone.

Finally reaching him, you grabbed his hand as he helped you up to him. Not being able to contain himself, James’s hands were placed on your cheeks as he pulled you towards him.

“Not yet!” Remus rolled his eyes, pulling James away from you. He just pouted, kissing the tip of your nose before pulling away and reaching for your hands.

“Alright alright,” Remus yelled out, his voice going over everyone else's, “We are gathered here today for the union of James Potter and Y/n L/n.”

You and James drowned out Remus’s voice as the two of you looked at each other. As much as this was fake, you could imagine the two of you actually getting married.

“If there is anyone who believes that these two shouldn’t be together, speak now or forever hold your peace.” Remus spoke.

Just as one of pledges went to object, something Sirius pushed him to do for a laugh, James glared down at the pledge.

“Parker, you better not say a single word.” James yelled. The pledge nodded, before looking back down.

Smiling, you covered your hand over your mouth to conceal your laugh.

“Well then, by the power invested in me, I pronounce the two of you husband and wife, you can now kiss your bride.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, James pulled you down, dipping you down as he kissed you. Wrapping your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself, you pushed him closer towards you.

Pulling you back up, James smiled, fixing your hair and kissing you once more.

Dragging you down the aisle, he smiled with the rest of his brothers as he brought you back inside the house.

You just stood in the kitchen he maneuvered around, grabbing two champagne glasses and a bottle of champagne you didn’t know he even had.

“For the bride.” James offered you a glass. Clinking your glass against his, you took a sip.

“We’re married.” You whispered, smiling, knowing the moment was going to be ruined in a mere seconds.

“Yes we are.” James kissed your forehead.

“Let’s get drinking!” Sirius yelled coming back inside. You just smiled, pecking his lips before joining everyone else.

Music was blasting through the speakers, the social now just turning into a party. You and James were together the entire night, just matching each other with drinks, but having a higher tolerance than James, you weren’t as drunk as him.

“Hello, hello.” James grabbed the microphone from the dj booth, “I’d like to make an announcement.

Thank you to everyone who came tonight to witness a beautiful moment between me and Y/n, I got to marry the love of my life tonight and even though it wasn’t real, it was real to me.”

Though he was drunk, you could hear the sincerity in his voice, just smiling softly at his drunken antics.

“And have a drink, and enjoy the night.” He finished out his speech. All the brothers cheered for him as he left the dj booth and returned his way back to you.

“Hello love.” He smiled, pulling you into him, your cheek squished against his.

“Jamie,” You giggled, “you’re drunk.

“In love.” He retorted. You just shook your head, wrapping your arms around him to keep him stabilized.

“Alright husband, let’s get you some water.” You pulled him into the kitchen, leaning him against the counter.

Turning away from him, you didn’t notice the look James was giving you, his eyes full of love, a smile on his face.

“What?” You asked, seeing him looking at you.

“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, and you’re all mine.” He smiled, taking the glass of water from you. Smiling, you kissed his cheek, staying in his arms.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Of course.” He drunkenly babbled, “Gonna be with you forever and ever.”

“Forever and ever.”

fin.

#james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x girlfriend!reader #frat boy!james potter x reader #james potter #college!james potter #marauders #marauders era #marauders au #marauders x reader #james potter fluff #james potter x wife!reader

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wrathofrats · 7 months

Note

16 for the angst prompts pleasee (maybe mountain dew?)

-☀️🌙

… I’m so sorry

This turned into 1.2k words of me deep diving into dew’s insecurities. Y’all keep telling me to hurt that fire ghoul and I sadly have more than enough to deliver.

Hope you enjoy!

“He’s just been extra sensitive recently.”

It sounds like rain from what dew can make out through the door.

“I know. He’s just been harsh.”

That was definitely mountain. Were they talking about him?

“I don’t think he means it. Just been rough for him”

“Yeah but it’s getting hard to be around. He’s been mean rain, more than he usually is”

Usually is?

“I know. I’ll talk to him. He’s just in a funk I’m sorry”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You’re not the problem, dew needs to figure himself out”

So they were talking about him.

“I agree, trust me. Just cut him some slack ok?”

“Fine”

He hears the doorknob turn and he quickly darts in the direction of his own room.

Had he really been that badly recently? Sure he’s usually blunt and likes to mess around, but *mean*? Has he really been mean to everyone? To mountain?

The questions race through his head as he sits on the ground in his room. He doesn’t try to be mean. He doesn’t try to hurt anyone, the thought of being genuinely malicious to those he loves makes him feel sick. He knows no matter how much guilt he may feel or whatever his intentions actually were, they don’t excuse the effect they’ve apparently had.

He tries to suck it up and stop wallowing in his own pity. He wants to make it up to mountain, and whoever else is thinking the same thing as him, because surely everyone else is right? Dew doesn’t feel right with himself.

He starts with the greenhouse. He brings up the fresh mulch from storage that mountains been talking about needing to retrieve, and quickly refills his watering can before mountain comes to start his work.

“Droplet, did you do this?” Mountain asks. Dew doesn’t like the tone of confusion in his voice, like he would never expect dew of all people to help out. But he nods anyways and retreats back to his room.

The next day dew makes mountain his coffee alongside is. Wakes up 15 minutes early to be able to beat him downstairs.

“I made you coffee since I was awake, just how I know you like it.” Dew offers him a nonchalant smile. He tries hard to not seem like he’s going out of his way to be so kind. He hopes that the others will maybe just think he’s finally changed his ways, become better.

“Dew, can I ask if something’s wrong” mountain stares down into his coffee in confusion.

“What? No. Nothings wrong with your coffee. It’s just a kind gesture” dew rolls his eyes. Mountain didn’t think this was some elaborate prank did he?

“No, is there something wrong with you droplet” mountains eyes held genuine concern.

“Why would there be?”

Mountain doesn’t know how to phrase it. Doesn’t like the weight of the words on his tongue, but tries to say them anyways.

“You’ve just been … overly kind recently. Did something happen? I just want to know if you’re alright”

The slam of dews ceramic coffee cup echos off of the kitchen walls. He knew this would happen, he should’ve expected it.

“Why do you think something’s wrong with me when I’m nice? You wanted me to be nicer and now something’s wrong with me?” His voice is higher than he wants it to be.

“Dew no, that’s not what I meant-“

“I heard what you told rain. I’m sorry I just wanted to do better for you” he doesn’t want to cry. He is anyways. He again prayed that mountain would just take his kindness and forgive him and they could move on but he’s never had that kind of good luck before, why would he now?

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was frustrated and was venting and I never wanted you to hear that.”

Dew hiccups around his words. He’s embarrassed, never likes to show this much emotion. He’s always been the emotional one and he hates it more than words can ever describe.

“But you said it for a reason. Just let me change. I just want you all to love me I’ll change I’m sorry I’ll do better” his words slur together. His wipes his face with his sleeve and tries so hard to be composed though he knows he can’t be. Not like this.

“You don’t need to change dewdrop. We don’t want you to change. I’m sorry, you didn’t need to hear any of that. I didn’t mean it.” Mountain tries his best to plea with him, but he knows this about more than a stupid conversation behind closed doors.

“I do need to change. I need you all to love me like you do each other. Please” he can’t stop the words from tumbling out if his mouth. Years of pent up insecurities and he’s ashamed for how easy he’s letting them all go.

“We do love you dew, we love each other all equally, what is this about?”

“You don’t treat me the same” the words are choked, they’re barely coherent. “No one gives me the same affection as everyone else and I don’t get it. I just want to be loved like everyone else is”

“Oh dew, we do love you. I’m sorry if we made you feel otherwise. Why didn’t you say something?” Mountains abandoned his coffee now in favor of trying to rest his hand on dews shoulder but it’s quickly batted away. He’s concerned, almost scared at the way dew is practically sobbing, almost hyperventilating.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you how I feel. If I deserved love I would’ve gotten it already” he finally yells, sobs around his words. He collapses on the ground with mountain by his side. He’s again ashamed for his emotions. He doesn’t like being like this, doesn’t like being a nuisance. This was supposed to be about proving himself to mountain and he’s made it about himself. He again tries to push the concerned ghoul away. He doesn’t deserve the support.

Dew knows he's being unreasonable. He's jerk, a menace, a brat. Why would anyone go out of their way to show him any extra kindness. He doesn't deserve it. There's always the question of "if you crave love so badly, why don't you treat others with it" and the internal debate of "I don't deserve it" and "if I deserved it, someone would see past the act and give it to me anyways"

He's blind though, as the other ghouls do love him no matter what. The way they mess with him a bit extra, giving him an outlet to have fun, they think he enjoys it so they keep doing it. How they go to him when somethings wrong, or immediately move aside when all he needs is a warm bed and no talking.

The way mountain plants extra lilacs because he likes the smell, or how ether stands closer to him than the others on stage.

He's just too blinded by his own insecurities to see it. A bitter sweet feeling at being "right" about not deserving to be loved, but he was never right, just can't get over his own ego to admit that.

#I’m sorry #this one has been saved up #a lot of pent up emotions oops!!#my bad for real #the band ghost #ghost #fanfic #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #dewdrop ghoul #wrath writes #mountain ghoul

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kolebrew · 9 months

Text

I'm Your Ken, Barbie Pt. 1 | Gojo X Reader

summary:

When you wake up and realize that everything is pinker then usual you find yourself concerned with more than just your dream house.

There are many kinks, and sexual activity past the first chapter... please be advised.

We are Black/POC in this household.

Every Barbie needs a Ken. Gojo is your ken.

'What the hell is that noise-'

“Ughhh who’s playing music it’s so early” No matter how many times you yell for your roommate to turn the volume down the music keeps going, in fact it feels like it's playing everywhere all at once. You love Lizzo but you don’t love Lizzo right now. Your pillow is over your ears and when you realize that the music is still going for what feels like forever you yell and you just want to scream. You adjust the pillow over your ears and can feel that your bonnet has come off your head.

‘So everything just got worse i see-FUCK’

“WOULD YOU SHUT I-”

You were completely stunned, more than stunned you were shocked. Suddenly you couldn’t even scream.

Oh yeah and everything was PINK! Or at least that's how the song that was playing went. Dam, maybe the song was catchy.

You slowly get off the bed and you refuse to address that the bed was a hot pink circle and your bed frame was a pastel heart. You were continuing to analyze the satin sheets and fuzzy rug when suddenly…

“HI BARBIE”

“AH!”

You tripped over your feet and fell next to the bed, when you sit up on the floor and crouch behind the bed you look to see who yelled “Barbie”

“Who the fuck is Barbie??” you ask yourself. When you look up you realize the room you were in had no walls, in fact the surrounding houses also lacked walls yet there was no draft coming in.

‘Wtf’

When you lock eyes with the woman who appears to have been the one who yelled at you the music seems to lower and the upbeat funk quiets enough for regular volume conversation?

“Um h-hi”

you see her waiving at you and so you wave back awkwardly before hiding behind the bed. You try to think of what to do, one minute you are sleeping in your bed in your apartment and next you are… apparently wearing a silk baby pink sleeping gown. Everything about this was ridiculous and pink. You try to think of your first course of action, which happened to be getting out of this gown and changing into something less… pink.

You were in a weird situation and have yet to process any of it yet you feel a very weird and sudden urge to take a shower and have breakfast? When you strip from the gown that was somehow your exact size you step into another pink room with a shower in it and well, water doesn’t exactly come out but you will NOT question that or open another can of worms. It felt like you had a daily routine and you were sidetracked, everything felt weird. When you go to the closet in your room you are glad to believe that maybe there will be something other than pink, you were right because there was the color blue… a lot. You try to forget it and switch to the simplest dress you can find and there are many dresses. You did look nice in them.

‘Okay, let's get the hell out of here ' you thought to yourself when you looked at the fridge and everything was plastic, you weren't a fan of eating plastic.

The only thing left to do was figure out how to get out of what looks like a play house, to your right is stairs and to your left is a slide… when in Rome you guess. You brace yourself from the top floor and take off the very uncomfortable pair of heels you had put on to of course match your outfit because what else would you do. You hold on tight to your dress and heels as you make your way down a very long long set of loops and turns.

By the time you make it down there you are greeted by another woman in what is an outrageously gorgeous dress with her hair pinned up and styled without a hair out of place. It’s with that you realize you didn’t do your hair and you didn’t wake up with a bonnet so your hair must be-

“I love your hair Barbie!” you wonder what it is she just said. “Oh- um me?”and she nods her head with a big smile, when you feel your hair you realize that you have a large curly and kinky set of hair…and oh my god it feels amazing to you. “Thank you… Barbie?” “You’re welcome Barbie!”

That’s when the realization dawned on you. The pink life sized playhouse, plastic food, no water, perfect hair and clothes and-

‘Oh my god im a Barbie’

… You find yourself wandering and come across a huge beach with waves that shined like plastic because they were plastic, then if it couldn’t get any weirder a ‘Barbie’ comes up to you and says “Oh there you are Barbie, I’ve been looking all over for you, your Ken is looking for you.” with a smile she turns her head and points at a figure coming out from a shack.

“Oh my god” “Who’s god?” “No one Barbie.”

You walk a little closer and until you could get a good look at the man in front of you. He was something but definitely lived up to the Ken name. When he got close enough to you to shoot you a smile you faltered.

“Hi Barbie” his voice was smooth like silk and even though you weren’t a small girl he towered over you.

“Hi Ken.” was all you could let out

“Can we talk, back at your dream house Barbie.” your mouth was wide open but you managed to respond. “Yes Ken.” he led the way although it was technically your dream house, when you appeared in front of the steps he smiled wide at you.

“Barbie, i’ve been looking all over for you, i’ve searched for you.”

“Oh okay, I'm sorry I dont know whats going o-”

“I wanna be boyfriend girlfriend with you. You are my Barbie, Barbie.”

You didn’t know what else to say once again and this time he held the tips of your fingers of both hands, so the most responsible thing you could say was- “okay Ken.”

His smile fainted into a smirk and he stepped even closer to the point you had to lean your head back to avoid touching the tip of his nose with yours. As he moved his hands up your arms to grasp you he says. “I picked out a name for myself that you can call me, that I would like if you called me.”

“What’s your name?” you couldn't help but wonder.

“Gojo Satoru, I’m your Ken, Barbie.”

#barbie #the barbie movie #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #smut #kolebrew #im your ken barbie

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crinkled-emotions · 4 months

Text

Day 22: Drawing a dick on someone's back in sunscreen (only for them to find out later)

This... damn, I had to take a breath.

Happy 2024 team! How crazy is it that we're in 2024?? It feels like yesterday my family hauled ass from one side of Australia to the other (it was actually 2013 but who's counting?).

We have some Daggers being Daggers! Lately I've been in a bit of a funk but I think I'm slowly coming out of it now :)

This one is shorter but I don't have a problem with that, I feel like it lowkey suits better.

“Tasha.”

Phoenix glanced at Bob over her sunglasses.

“What?”

“Don’t look now.”

“Look at what?”

She followed his gaze, spotting Rooster asleep on his lounger... on his stomach. Fanboy winked as he passed by, waving the sunscreen bottle in his hand. Phoenix cocked an eyebrow when Hangman and Coyote also started watching. To her surprise Maverick was also asleep; dogfight football had been off the table that morning but real football wasn’t. Turns out Hangman was of course the stereotypical high school quarterback but to everyone’s surprise Payback had been a linebacker... Rooster and Bob had both dropped out of football at their first opportunity (Bob was a consistent winner in debate club and Rooster played baseball all the way through his schooling years). Fanboy was a strong defender and Coyote was enjoying tackling Hangman when he had the opportunity. Phoenix was a soccer player throughout high school and she didn’t have the slightest interest in football despite having three brothers so when the others mentioned setting up a game she’d laid out with her book to watch them fall over each other. Bob had been snoozing on and off beside her for the last ten minutes, but apparently the others were done with their football to move on to another game.

It had been a long week on base; hops, simulations and lectures kept them all busy and often drained. Maverick did his best to keep morale up but he had things he had to complete and things he needed to ensure the Daggers were competent in to pass on to their classes. Their classes alone had been overwhelming with over-confident kids measuring their dicks at all times – no, seriously Bob was never walking into the locker rooms without knocking ever again.

In order to give the team a moment to recover, Maverick had suggested meeting at the beach by the Hard Deck in the afternoon for burgers. Of course it had quickly turned into sports and now everyone, fed and satisfied, had found various locations to get comfortable for a nap. It wasn’t just Rooster asleep; Payback and Maverick both were asleep and despite the smirk on his face, Hangman looked like he was considering his nap potential too. Bob and Phoenix exchanged looks, Phoenix passing over her book so Bob could subtly film what Fanboy was up to. Fanboy grinned, wiggling his fingers.

“Oh he’s totally gonna wake up,” Bob muttered. Phoenix elbowed him.

“No he’s not; Rooster sleeps like he’s dead, he’s not going anywhere.”

They watched as Fanboy drew a phallic symbol in sunblock on Rooster’s back, winking at the others as he then made a run for it. Plucking her book from Bob’s hand, Phoenix flopped back against her seat.

“Well, now we wait.”

Missed call from Rooster (7:14am)

Missed call from Rooster (7:15am)

Rooster: Tasha CALL ME

Phoenix woke to the notifications and immediately called Rooster, holding her phone to her ear as she got out of bed. Whilst she fumbled into clothes just in case it was that kind of emergency, he finally answered.

“Oh, so now you’re out of bed?”

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Phoenix demanded, shoving her (clean, relax) sock into her mouth so that she could do up the button on her jeans.

“I’m glad you’re so well rested, I got up early for PT and I just had them tell me the funniest thing ever.”

Phoenix paused. Spat out her sock.

“Bradley Bradshaw,” she started carefully, “please tell me you didn’t send me an SOS – on a Sunday of all days – to tell me about the PT you flirted with?”

“What- no! She was cute though... no, she asked me if I had a new tattoo and when I said I had no idea what she was talking about she handed me a mirror so I could see my back.”

Phoenix’s eyebrows raised as it all came rushing back.

“Oh my god, I totally forgot about that!”

She burst out laughing, doubling over as she howled. She could almost feel the irritation through the phone but it only made her laugh harder.

“Thanks, Phoenix. I can’t believe someone drew a dick on my back – wait. Who was it anyway? Just out of curiosity. It was Hangman wasn’t it?”

Phoenix took a moment to gather herself, flopping back into bed.

“No way am I throwing anyone under the bus. Figure it out yourself, Bradshaw – and holy shit, I hate you so much right now, it’s 7:30am on a Sunday morning and I’m awake. Ugh, this is cursed.”

Now it was Rooster’s turn to laugh, and he did until Phoenix hung up on him.

“Can we see it?”

Rooster glanced over his shoulder at Coyote, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you propositioning me? Take me out to dinner first, man, damn-“

“-no, the dick- shit.”

Coyote sighed while Rooster chuckled, finishing getting into his flight suit.

“C’mon- please?”

“Ooh, sorry man, too late. Better luck next time.”

“Damn.”

Coyote went back to his own locker while Rooster struggled to get his flight suit to not rest against his sunburned back and shoulders.

“Bradley.”

Rooster groaned, glancing up when Maverick approached.

“Yeah, Mav?”

“I’ve been... hearing rumours today.”

“This is about the lilly white dick on my back isn’t it. You have your team to thank for that.”

Maverick’s mouth twitched. Rooster sighed.

“Go ahead; laugh it up. You’re not the first. I’m gonna kill Hangman when I get my hands on him.”

“It doesn’t sound like it was him, Roo.”

Maverick ruffled his hair and then continued his walk up to the podium.

“Good morning, aviators- hey, has anyone seen the penis on Rooster’s back? Gives a whole new meaning to his callsign, really.”

The rest of the Daggers laughed, Maverick flipping open his file.

“Okay, let’s get to it. Uh, today we’re going to be not doing the intense hops we’re used to; we’re going back to basics because I’m starting to notice gaps in your training...”

“C’mon, guys, fess up will you? Who drew the dick on my back in sunscreen and then let me burn?”

“To be fair, you slept for hours and we woke you when we were worried about you getting dehydrated,” Bob commented as he moved around the ready room. The others exchanged nervous glances; if anyone would dob another team member in it would probably be Bob.

Damn stealth pilots.

“The joke’s over, guys, I’ve got a burn along the lines of my callsign and I don’t think Maverick has stopped laughing yet.”

“He’s not the only one,” Hangman grinned. Rooster cocked an eyebrow as he turned to the blonde; no one said he was above bribery-

“Tell me who it was and I’ll blow you-“

“-it was Fanboy.”

The others groaned, Bob facepalming.

“Yet again, Hangman, you live up to your callsign,” Coyote said to his best friend. Hangman shrugged.

“I’ll never say no to a-“

“-did you seriously just give Fanboy up? Dude, not cool.”

Phoenix walked into the ready room at the perfect time, smacking Hangman upside the head. He winced but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“Guys; I’ll send you photos I promise.”

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randomwriteronline · 2 years

Text

Emmet is always the first to wake up (he's always been). He is the only one with a proper sort-of-alarm-clock-y Thing that is not a real and proper alarm clock because you can put songs in it. He says he hates all the automated alarms it has despite having heard only a handful, so he puts in his own tunes. He learns to hate the sound of the first few notes very quickly, but hes too lazy to change song until the old one becomes absolutely unbearable.

Ingo is always the last to wake up out of anybody in the house because he has the kind of sleep that despite not necessarily making him look like he's dead, definitely would and could leave him to die if the fire alarm was blaring wildly in the middle of the night due to flames exploding from the kitchen (and if the sprinklers did save the day he would sleep through them too). He is always groggy out of his mind, and if he isn't up and standing after three seconds he will fall asleep again.

Emmet makes pure black coffee and then gets the sugar on the table. They never remember which cup is whose, so to avoid Ingo calling him a whore (which he won't lie, is extremely funny, but his brother then feels bad and smacks him for laughing) the sugar on the table is a good compromise.

Ingo on the other hand is in charge of feeding the pokémon. He's knows how to sort each kind of specific stuff by heart, and also Emmet has a tendency to give them non-organic treats instead (which yes, are all things they are capable of digesting, but they still need actual food).

They go back to being almost the same person as they dress up, though Ingo starts humming and hawing louder and louder to get himself in the funk of things. When they're ready to get out Emmet holds the door open for his twin - not out of chivalry but for a sort of joke he has with himself, because he is the younger and no matter what world they are entering the older must always go first to keep the status quo.

Ingo says I think it's a stupid joke and you just want me to shield you from any sudden incoming threats.

Emmet says it's a good joke. You love it. And it is your job to protect me. You decided to be first. Not me.

(This is when Ingo squishes his cheeks and calls him his poor little baby brother, and Emmet slaps him several times and laughs telling him to go fuck himself.)

Emmet sleeps face down, as in deep in the pillow. How does he even manage to breathe like that? Ancient lost legends say that only Reshiram knows.

Ingo sleeps face up completely immobile. He keeps his blinds open and the sun hits right in his eyes but by Zekrom that won’t stop him from sleeping.

When they were kids they would sleep on their sides curled up around one another, hugging tight, knees to their chests and arms around their shoulders, waking up too early for a pair of children to get up from the floor and crawl back into their beds on opposite ends of the room, because their parents didn’t want them to sleep close and wanted even less to find them on the pavement. They slept hugged like that the first few days they were at Uncle Drayden’s - but those times they were on a couch, and then in beds that they could push together.

Sometimes, when they watch movies or a show or are just too tired to go to their rooms, they still fall asleep on the couch. Ingo’s quiet snores make his chest rise and descend with a soothing rhythm that makes Emmet fall asleep quicker than usual, ear pressed to his brother’s rib. He does have a tendency to drool a bit in these cases, which his twin hates, but what can you do.

When they wake up like that (on the couch, elder as mattress, younger as blanket) Emmet tries to get the engine going quickly. Ingo hums, hugs him, and turns around to squish him against the back pillows so he snooze a bit longer.

#pokémon #submas ingo #submas emmet #submas #random writing #blnkshippers i am blowing the loudest airhorn known to man in your face so you know this aint for you so dont touch

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djmossback · 10 months

Text

Spacebar 17 June 2023

2100 hrs

Dazz Band, Let It Whip (7" Motown)

Patrice Rushen, Forget Me Nots (7" Elektra)

Naked Eyes, Promises Promises (7" Manhattan)

David Bowie, Let’s Dance (12” long mix)

Sylvester, Do You Wanna Funk (12" 45 rpm long cut)

Ace, How Long (7")

Queen, Crazy Little Thing Called Love (7" Elektra)

Wham, Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go (7" UK cut)

Go-Go’s, We Got The Beat (7" Stiff Records)

Wang Chung, Dance Hall Days (LP cut)

Link Wray, Rumble (LP cut, Rhino Instrumental Rock v/a)

Bush Tetras, Too Many Creeps (7" 99 records)

Dry Cleaning, Scratchcard Lanyard (7" 4AD)

Wire, Ahead (12" Enigma)

Heatwave, The Groove Line (7" Epic Records)

2200 hrs

Pet Shop Boys, West End Girls (12" extended mix, Manhattan Records)

Cheryl Lynn, Got To Be Real (7" Columbia)

Tears For Fears, Change (7" Polygram import)

DEVO, Whip It (7" Warners)

Amii Stewart, Knock On Wood (12" Ariola)

ZZ Top, Sleeping Bag (12" 45rpm extended mix)

Vince Staples, Big Fish (LP cut)

Abyssinians, Declaration Of Rights (LP cut)

Nazareth, Hair Of The Dog (LP cut)

Cramps, What’s Inside A Girl (12" 45rpm cut)

Nelly, Hott In Herre (12" cut)

Janet Jackson, What Have You Done For Me Lately (12" extended mix)

Kylie Minogue, Can’t Get Blue Monday Out Of My Head (12" promo)

Apollonia 6, Sex Shooter (12" 45 RPM cut Paisley Park/wea)

2300 hrs

Positive K, I Gotta Man (12" cut)

Taste Of Honey, Rescue Me (LP cut)

G.Q., Boogie Oogie Oogie (7" Arista)

Thundercat, Them Changes (LP cut, 45RPM 10")

Kendrick Lamar, YAH (LP cut, faded early, due to.....)

Treasure Valley Roller Derby interruption.

Herbie Hancock, Chameleon (LP cut)

Toto, Hold The Line (LP cut)

Thin Lizzy, Boys Are Back In Town (LP cut)

Michael Jackson, Workin’ Day and Night (7" Epic Records)

Confidence Man, First Class Bitch (12" mix)

TLC, No Scrubs (12" mix w/rap)

Mary Jane Girls, In My House (7" Motown)

Cyndi Lauper, Girls Just Want To Have Fun (7" mix)

Carla & Otis, Tramp (7" Stax)

S.O.S Band, Take Your Time (Do It Right) (7" mix)

Kim Wilde, Kids In America (7" )

Midnight

Soho, Hippychick (12" extended mix, WEA/Sire)

Sleaford Mods, Nudge It (LP Cut)

Laid Back, White Horse (12" 45RPM extended cut)

Killing Joke, Follow The Leader (LP Cut)

Gap Band, You Dropped a Bomb On Me (LP Cut)

Wreckz-n-Effect, Rump Shaker (12" extended cut)

Cypress Hill, How I Could Just Kill A Man (12" mix, some German ep)

Nena, 99 Luftballoons (7" GMBH SCHALLPLATTEN)

Orchestral Maneuvers In The Dark, Souvenir (7" Dindisc ep)

ESG, You’re No Good (7" Factory/99 Records FAC 34)

PJ Harvey, Down By The River (7" Island UK, 33rpm)

Junior Murvin, Police & Thief (7" Upsetter Records)

The Orb, Little Fluffy Clouds (12" extended mix)

Wire, Go Ahead (7" Harvest Records, B-side of Map Ref)

Sun Atoms, Half Robot, Half Butterfly

Finished about 0125

TASTING NOTES

I was ridiculously uninspired going in. Did my best. Had the added wrinkle of the roller derby afterparty, so I played to them a bit.

My dreams of reordering my crates were wrecked by my surprise, early this week, that it was indeed Third Space Saturday week.

I had a chill set for 1-2am foundered by a drunk* that broke my concentration. Plus, I ran out of records. I don't have a problem with people coming up and saying something, like the person who came up during the ZZ Top record, and asked what mix it was! And having the Treasure Valley Roller Derby after season party in the Space was a blast! It would have been nice to know that beforehand, so I could have loaded up on some sassy and aggresive women for the mix! I apologize. They were a great crowd. They did their thing, had a good time, and I enjoyed playing to them.

Elusive Panda Buck Dave from the Dedicated Servers dropped by and said hello, so did the Real Rah-Keem.

Jules came up and requested "weird shit," like that Clipping jam that I throw in the regular set. So, I’m envisioning the 1-2 am bonus as a set for those of us who work there.

We turned the volume down, and I threw on some down tempo tracks. It's something I want to explore further.

*That drunk doesn’t know how close he came to getting destroyed by my brother in law Jeff. Seriously. He just kept pushing the nonsense, and it totally broke me. Asking me questions about the Mariners gear, and distracting me with questions about Seattle sports, and saying off the wall things like "93rd and Aurora." without elaborating on it. Jeff stepped in to wing man for me, and endured the nonsense. Like I have done many times for DJ IGA back when he occupied the booth. Jeff knows how to hang without demanding to be entertained by a person AT THEIR JOB WHO IS TRYING TO CONCENTRATE!! Well, whatever. I'm going to have to work hard to overcome things like that. Part of the gig.

Next Third Space is 15 July, 2023. I swear I will have some different jams next time.

#vinyl records.#barcade #djset #music #djmossback #vinyl #vinylcommunity

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abeldavis · 10 months

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ꕀ ᐝ 𖠳 michael b jordan, cis man, he/him 𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ ‷ heads up ; if you hear SON OF A PREACHER MAN by ARETHA FRANKLIN blaring, it’s most likely ABEL DAVIS making their way down the shore ! they’re 34 years old and celebrate their birthday on 12/21 - i knew they were a SAGITTARIUS ! especially since they’re very CHARMING and PRIVATE. they are from ST. FRANCISVILLE, LOUISIANA, staying in DOWNTOWN and are currently working as OWNER AND OPERATOR OF ARETHA'S CORNER: A JAZZ, FUNK & SOUL LOUNGE, here at the cape. they always did remind me of a table piled high with books on various different subjects, a closet filled with nothing but exquisitely tailored suits, and an old record player filling the room with the smooth sounds of soul."

Abel Davis was the first born child and only son of Protestant Pastor James Davis, and music teacher Jasmine Davis, and was raised in St. Francisville Louisiana, less than two hours from the Big Easy, New Orleans. Though his parents were quite strict, they were also very supportive and provided Abel, as well as his two younger sisters, with all of the tools, as well as the structure that were needed to be able to create success for themselves in life.

While growing up, Abel fell in love with music, which was always playing in the Davis household. The sounds of legendary artists like Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald, Nina Simone, Count Basie and many others led Abel to seek out instruction from his mother from a very early age. Although she could be quite hard on him in their lessons, sometimes to the point of making him want to quit, his love for music was always enough to make him push through, and by his teens he became highly proficient at piano and saxophone.

(TW: Racism and Discrimination Mentions) Of course growing up in the deep south as an African American meant that Abel faced discrimination and racism, even with both his parents being highly respected members of the community. There was undeniably times when Abel noticed that he was receiving lesser treatment compared to some of his white peers, and sometimes he was explicitly subjected to racial slurs and derogatory comments. Most times, Abel did his best to brush all of this off and not let it bother him, but there were definitely times when it got to him. Still, he tried to remember what his parents always told him: the best revenge against discrimination and racism was to become a successful person of colour. With this mantra in mind, Abel was determined to become undeniable wherever he went.

By the time he finished high school, Abel knew exactly what it was that he wanted to do with his life: Music. Though his parents were more than a little disapproving of this risky path, wanting him to instead pick something with more stability, Abel reasoned that he would give it a try for one year, and if it didn't work out, he promised he would go to school like they wanted.

(TW: Discrimination and Racism Mentions) Abel's first year of touring was definitely a bit of a wake up call to the realities of how deep discrimination ran in the south, with a lot of places refusing to book him for no real reason, while some didn't even try to hide that it was because of his race. Still, he was just barely able to make enough money to cover his living expenses, and though it wasn't exactly the most glamorous life that he was living, he was getting to live his dream of playing music and was determined to keep it going. The second year, he made a bit more, and by the third year, he was in enough demand that he was able to afford small amounts of comfort, with every year after that seeing a gradual uptick in his business.

This went on for a number of years, until Abel was something of a mini celebrity in the Southern States. It seemed to him that this would be the rest of his life, and he was completely okay with that. However, fate had a different plan in mind; it turned out that a girl named Josephine, whom Abel had had relations with, had become pregnant with his child, and it didn't take him very long to realize that his life of constant travel wasn't going to work particularly well with being a father. His parents had always been present when he was growing up, and he attributed a lot of his success to that fact; he wanted to make sure his daughter would be able to say the same thing when she was older. He decided that he would go on one final tour prior to her birth, and then he would figure out what to do next.

(TW: Death, Childbirth) It turned out that even if Abel hadn't come to the decision on his own, he would have had no choice but to put an end to his days on the road. Josephine suffered from complications during childbirth, and though the child was thankfully successfully delivered, the mother only survived long enough to hold her daughter in her arms once, and to agree with Abel that her name would be Aretha.

Now a single father to a little girl, Abel knew that he needed to make his next move, and he needed to do it fast. Thankfully, he knew exactly what that move was going to be. He remembered all too well how much of a struggle it had been as a young black artist to find a place where he could perform, and he knew that he wasn't alone in this struggle. Well, what if he could create a space for artists of colour to be showcased? Thus, the idea for Aretha's Corner: A Jazz, Funk, and Soul Lounge was born. Using the money that remained untouched from his school fund, he placed a down payment on a space in the heart of downtown New Orleans and took out a loan to renovate the space to his liking. It was undoubtedly a big gamble, but Abel was confident that it would pay off. And it did. Big time.

Aretha's Corner became a huge success, and after two years of operation, Abel had not only managed to pay off the original loan in its entirety, but he was starting to consider the possibility of potentially opening a second location. It took another two years, but he finally did exactly that, though nobody could have ever predicted the location that he would choose.

The idea of opening a Jazz lounge to showcase artists of colour in New Jersey was admittedly a little bit out there, but Abel had made a life for himself by taking gambles and betting on himself, and he was determined to prove that he could do it for a third time. He was confident that if he could make it work in Cape May of all places, then there was no limit to where he could expand from there. Plus, he couldn't help but feel like by moving to the north, he would be giving his young daughter a chance to have new experiences that she might not have been able to have in Louisiana. And so, leaving management of the original Aretha's in the very capable hands of his Mother, Abel and Aretha moved to Cape May to begin their new adventure!

Abel hasn't been in Cape May that long, having only very recently completed the renovations and opening the club to the public. Thus far, the club has been a success, and Abel has high hopes that that success will continue!

Please don't hesitate to message me if you'd be interested in plotting with Abel!

#tw: death #tw: racism #tw: discrimination #cape.intro

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preyforthewicked · 1 year

Text

Appendix I: Journal Entries

November 19, 2010

2:52 Right now, I just feel like screaming and crying and yelling and hitting something. I don’t feel like myself. God.

3:08 Why does it seem like nothing is going for me today? Nothing particularly bad has happened. I just feel so…strange.

November 22, 2010

7:58 Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

8:49 "Tears streamed down Alexandra's face, but Jay felt no sympathy. He hardly felt feelings for anything anymore."

December 28, 2010

9:21 Wooooooow. I woke up feeling so disoriented this morning. Like, I almost didn’t remember where I was, kind of disoriented. Oh man. Phew, but it’s all better now I suppose. I still feel kind of weird. I’m almost positive it’s because of the dream I had, but for the life of me I can’t remember it ): Ah well.

*Sigh* Time to jump back on this horse, I guess. Grammar and Comp, here I come! *trips and falls into puddle of mud*

12:23 That disoriented feeling I was talking about earlier? Yeah. Still here. I feel like I’m in a limbo-funk or something. I seriously do not know what to feel. Or even what I might be feeling. I’m not majorly pissed, or sad, or happy, or anything. It’s really like…listless. Just uninterested in everything. :/

I feel like lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling until I fall asleep. Or don’t.

February 22, 2012

12:37 Nothing is real. Nothing is permanent.

February 26, 2012

12:01 I’m slipping through the cracks in the sidewalk of my mind.

3:28 I feel empty all of the sudden.

Waking up in four hours or so. Woo.

6:19 Why can’t I fall asleep? I can see the sun rising :l What is wrong with me?

9:41 So apparently I fell asleep for around half an hour between 6:20 and 6:50 and continued to have trouble falling back asleep after that. Between 7 and 9:20 (when I was to wake up, which I did) I think I was worried I wouldn’t hear my alarm because I woke up every few chunks of minutes to check the time. It was especially focused and bad from around 8 to 9:20. This is a little ridiculous. So I got...three very interrupted hours of sleep last night. Great. Oh well. I knew there would be consequences, but I didn’t think I’d be having trouble falling asleep until 7 when the sun was pretty high already! Gar. My mind bothers me sometimes. I don’t even know what it was that was keeping me awake. I mean sure some of the movies we watched had scary bits in them, but I wasn’t afraid of that (see earlier journal post). Sigh. At least I’ll be tired enough to fall asleep nice and early tonight cause there’s no way I can get a nap in today.

3:06 Soooo...tired... But...must resist...complaining...

8:01 Can I just sleep forever?

March 9, 2012

2:32 Why am I feeling so gosh darn tired? I got 9 hours of sleep last night and more the nights before. Am I anemic? Or is this just some weird phase? Am I not sleeping well cause of weird dreams I’ve been having? (bleeding fingernails)

June 20, 2012

12:30 And thus begins day three of my days off. So what did I do? I started cleaning. On my boredom scale, that’s how you tell it’s really bad. When I simply start cleaning practically automatically, it’s bad. Just to occupy myself with something that is worth my time. But now that I’m done with what I’m not too lazy to do, I’m sitting here in front of my computer playing word games and feeling pretty low of myself. I don’t know and I don’t know why. I almost feel like a burden today. It’s days like these I wish I could sink into the shadows and disappear for a little while. For everyone to forget me for a bit and act as if I didn’t exist. Not that I died, however, but that I had merely never existed.

July 18, 2012

4:10 for some reason I can't really fall asleep. I watched Crazy Stupid Love and The Help. Good movies. But I'm still not tired.

In another life, I think I'd be an insecure, self-harming prostitute. That is, if I didn't have God or a great family that supports me.

In another life. Like an opposite reality.

Sometimes I really wish I could turn my mind off. I wish I had a sleep on switch and it could just slice through the connection between me and the world for a few hours. Leave me to my wanderings.

July 23, 2012

1:13 I just wrote my Last Will and Testament. And the songs I want them to play at my funeral. Does that make me sick or good for preparing? I mean, it could happen tomorrow.

Shrugs. It’s written. At least there will be something to go off of if it does happen within the year.

February 18, 2013

2:05 Maybe I should just stop talking altogether. Perhaps people would like me better.

February 25, 2013

12:21 Sometimes I wish I could replay memories in my head like VHS tapes. Whenever I want. And I can record over the bad ones with good memories, cause some don't deserve to be remembered.

March 7, 2013

4:37 No one should even be alive at this hour. So why am I?

4:40 It's times like these when I wonder how many people are out driving around. Maybe I should try it sometime. Just cruise around listening to music at the pre-crack of dawn.

March 12, 2013

12:46 Last night I woke up several times although I only remember three specific times: 3, 6, and 8. I knew it would happen and yet I still almost cried when 6 came around. Today was certainly trying. A few times during the afternoon all I wanted to do was take a nap. And now I'm wide-awake. Why you do this to me, body? Now that I can sleep, why won't I?

March 15, 2013

6:02 Everyone dies at the end of their own story.

7:50 Why is it when I want people to see me I feel I have to hurt myself to make that happen?

March 30, 2013

3:12 I can’t go on Facebook today because there are so many Peru posts and it hurts my heart. It makes me happy to see all those people going to change their lives, but the hurt outweighs the happiness…

April 12, 2013

1:11 feeling pretty low of myself right now, kind of for no reason. :l

Sometimes I wonder, am I bipolar?

August 10, 2013

2:35 LOTR obsessions. Yes.

School starts back up in two weeks. Crazy. Thirteen days till my birthday. Also crazy.

I feel weird today. Like a I just want to cry for no particular reason kind of weird. Hopefully hanging out with Rachel and Taylor tonight will help me be better.

December 15, 2013

5:55 It would probably be one of the worst ideas ever to leave me alone with alcohol, but isn’t that the case for everyone?

Isn’t it?

6:10 Dinner for one, tonight.

March 19, 2014

4:58 I hide my fears in the wrinkles hanging on the corners of your mouth,

hide the screams in the fingertips of your satin gloves;

I can never grow old.

I sewed my eyes shut with the threads I had used to create a memento for you, in order to block out the memories.

I forgot that they’re on the inside.

March 20, 2014

1:00 run me over, see if I care?

Fall out from beneath me, grate - what does it matter?

I like to hug the walls when I walk.

1:20 fall down the escalator - don't worry. It'll scrape you up at the bottom.

April 11, 2014

11:21 I haven't had one of these quiet worthless days in a while. I can't say I missed feeling this way.

April 19, 2014

10:15 What if I’m slowly losing myself? What if every day it gets worse and everyone thinks I’m just an asshole when this unknown disease inside is just killing me slowly?

July 2, 2014

2:11 Feels like falling down the up escalator.

July 5, 2014

5:03 Sometimes it doesn’t seem like my past ever actually happened to me. Sometimes, if I pretend hard enough, I can make myself believe that it didn’t, and that I read it in some book years ago. Opened, and shut. Begun and ended.

Finished.

August 3, 2014

8:17 Sometimes I wish I didn’t have my life. I wish I could float away like a leaf, land somewhere new, and start afresh. I suppose it’s cowardly to think something like that, when stuff gets complicated and tough or I’m having a particularly rough day and I Just want to run away from it for a bit.

September 6, 2014

11:53 You know what the worst part is? No one will ever be able to fully understand. No one. Ever. It’s such a specific situation, and one that’s so hard to explain in all the ways that it would need to be explained in order to be even remotely understood.

Most days I am strong, I know that my heart has healed and is healing due to God. But some days, some nights, it becomes a torment, the fractures in my heart. And I have no one to talk to about it. No one. It is all behind me, as far as anyone who kind of knows thinks. To admit that it’s presently tormenting me would mean I’ve been thinking about it and then that would mean trouble, blah blah…

God, I’ve prayed and prayed…take this burden away from me. I do not want it anymore. I do not. Want. It. It is a tumor, a parasite that latches onto my most painful wounds and sucks the joy away, leeching my happiness and well-being. I hate having these demons. I don’t want them. I don’t deserve them.

God…someone…please…

This is so awful, being in this place.

October 27, 2014

10:21 wake me up when the semester ends

November 21, 2014

3:24 I often get this recurring image of myself if I were to fall down the stairs or get hit by a car, or you know, something of the like, and I see myself simply lying there (obviously if I had been knocked out, this would be the case) silently in strange acceptance. Not attempting to get up, even if I was honestly more or less okay. A few days ago, I had this thought that I was walking through campus and stepped on a nail that went straight through the sole of my shoe and directly into my foot (this was brought on by the realization that the soles of my shoes were worn so incredibly thin they'd probably start busting open just by walking soon) and I just frowned deeply at the now-gushing wound, pulled out my cell to call campo, and told them quickly but calmly that I probably needed to be picked up and taken to the hospital. No tears. No curses. Just odd acceptance.

January 11, 2015

8:26 This morning I woke up and just felt wrong. I can’t say why. Perhaps it was a dream I had, but don’t remember.

March 18, 2015

11:52 My occasional

ponderance of suicide

is just Jesus

calling me home.

April 2, 2015

12:28 can I be a stranger for a day? I don't want to be me right now.

April 7, 2015

9:25

The Pit

Braid a rope of I-Love-You's,

fasten it to futility.

The streetlights don't reach down here -

neither does your hope.

June 21, 2015

12:54 I want to cry and vomit all at once.

July 2, 2015

3:34 She poured gasoline down her throat and set her lips aflame.

July 10, 2015

8:34 Railings on skyscrapers

contain me,

animal

suffocated skin wrap.

Can I breathe in the sky?

Can I jump for my life?

August 27, 2015

12:13 Sometimes I wish things could go back to being how they used to be, a long long time ago, because I'm afraid they'll never be that good again.

September 15, 2015

4:13 Sometimes I think

about suicide.

How would I do it?

Drowning, hanging,

fire – no.

maybe an overdose?

I don’t care if

you think me

a coward.

But if I'm gone

who will feed the dog?

October 1, 2015

10:16

Who am I?

Well,

Really,

It depends on who you ask.

My parents, cousins, friends

Would all say different things.

She's intelligent; sweet; funny; silly;

Hardworking; faithful; reliable.

Who is that person?

Surely that's not me?

They'd say much different things

If they could glimpse the pit

Of my mind.

She's cynical, they'd say.

She's awful, lonesome, and morbid.

Who wants to be me?

February 16, 2016

9:21 I run the water till it

prickles my finger skin pink,

pooling it in leather palms

to scald my face. Nails

curl under useless epidermis,

slough off cheeks, nose,

and flat lips. What’s etched

in the bone of my brow?

Loser?

February 17, 2016

11:18 Fling yourself from the highest window

Will you recognize your soul better in pieces?

Smile

at the blood

in your shoes

and know

they’ll never understand

where you’ve been.

September 27, 2016

12:38

Undiluted bleach purifies

or so it says.

Slug back a gulp -

no, two - on a prayer

that the convictions

coating your insides

will strip away.

Assess your sins anew -

vomit your guilts,

your lusts by the bowlful.

The cleansing burns

through your filth.

Will you become

refined? Or hope to God

it kills you first?

October 1, 2016

7:45

Never again will your fingers

press into the flesh of my hip

to mold me without permission.

My skin, living fabric fastened

taut over muscle and bone,

has shed the indelible impressions

of your fingerprints, the dead cells

of influence peppering my pores.

October 25, 2017

9:10 am

Jealousy

An atomic bomb in my gut

Nowhere for the gases

To escape, except to seep

Into my intestines.

An Adrenaline shot

In all four corners

Of my heart renders me

Trembling, an electrocuted

Trout left to gasp naked

And homeless beside you.

Reach out and conduct me.

Please

Conduct this from me

And slaughter it yourself

Before I kill me instead.

December 12, 2017

9:33 p

Nostalgia is

Three monsters wearing

Bunny masks and perfume

To cover over foul stench

And face. Two soothe,

Welcome me by way of

Lovely voices, while the third

Behind my back and just

Out of earshot grinds away at

The knife. Sometimes he

Leaves it dull. Sometimes

It is red hot sharp, ringing

Still from the stone. The

Funny thing is, I'm the one

Who offers up my arm

As he ready creeps close.

May 22, 2019

4:32 God, I feel so overwhelmed. I am so profoundly not satisfied with life

I hate feeling the way I do right now. I feel like I’m drowning and occasionally I latch on to something that keeps my head above the water for a minute – I distract myself, fall into Flow, talk to someone about non-existential things, cuddle deliberately with my cats, participate in Jiu Jitsu, play an engaging video game – but when that life raft disintegrates moments later, I am left to tread, already exhausted beyond my means. This is too much. I feel like a violently swinging trapeze artist, flinging themselves from one side of the circus to the other, high highs and lows so low as to plummet to the circus floor in an instant of slippery fingers. Is this what manic depression feels like? Is that what this is?

September 3, 2020

8:09

World Grows Dark

When I close my eyes

Then I understand

How the world grows dark

Again

And the shaking in my hands won’t stop

Everything is going wrong

The sun is out but I can’t see

All the gifts right in front of me

Please tell me where can I go from here

This journey’s lonely and there’s so much fear

My lying eyes aren’t on my side

And my mind has no place to hide

When I close my eyes

I wish I could feel

the warmth of a smile

Then maybe I’d be healed

For good

But When I close my eyes

I still understand

How the world grows dark

Again

Is this real or in my head?

Someone please stop me I think god’s

Dead

October 8, 2020

If I give me space to think

Then I think I probably

Shouldn't be alive

My suicide would be considerate.

I’d never do it, of course.

But if I did

Those who had to clean me up

Wouldn’t be bothered much.

No blood, fully clothed

Hopefully smiling

Though some things you can’t

Plan too hard for.

I want it to be freedom.

I want it to be that

Ultimate bliss.

That bliss I've had only once

In my waking life,

The day I met my husband.

But even that’s too much

To ask for

At the end.

At the end, then,

I can’t help but be

The burden I've always felt

I was.

December 11, 2020

11:19

My black hole welcomes me back

Once a month

vision narrows

Red lights abound

Next to nothing.

I’d rather just be

Nothing.

#preyforthewicked #sexualabuse #autobiography

0 notes

bubblingthoughts · 2 years

Text

Love. Shadows. Enlightenment.

What it's like to move on while still loving someone with all your heart. It's like going through a wind whirl of emotions and finally coming to a stop where all there is left is just this peaceful feeling. It's like when you think of them you don't feel that ache deep inside. Instead, you feel this deep love and appreciation for that person. Appreciating every memory you created together because each moment taught you something and helped you grow to where you are now.

So today I woke up very early and did something way out of character for me. I actually got up and out of bed once I woke up... I mean not right away, it took me a few minutes but I did it. I didn't realize it then but right now as I'm reflecting on that moment, I've realized it's the new version of me. It's what I've worked so hard for. To be that person who wakes up early and goes about their day and is just living their life for the sake of living and not going through the motions like I was before. I'm filled with so much clarity it's kind of unreal. I'm living what I didn't realize I was always manifesting. Today, was the first day that I actually felt like I didn't waste my day away by not doing anything.

It's hard though. When you're in that mindset you're already so low that realizing you're just wasting your days being stuck in that funk really adds to the depression. That's where I was, in this limbo of depression and a functioning autopilot where it was just enough to get me through the week and gave me just enough energy to socialize before I retreated to being stuck in my head.

Today after I got ready. I went and got myself coffee and took a walk at one of my favorite beaches. The whole time I was thinking of them. This time it was different. The love for them is still there but I'm not dwelling on the pain. I've let that pain go and only kept what made me happy and that was love. When I think of them, I don't feel sad anymore. Where that sadness and pain used to live there's a peaceful feeling. It's like when you have a headache and then finally the Advil kicks in and you feel so great. You still remember it but you don't feel it. That's where the beauty lies. That's what it's like to love someone while you're moving on. That's what I felt today while I walked on the beach admiring its beauty. It was low tide. It's my favorite because you can see a glimpse of what the ocean hides deep inside and it's so beautiful.

Right before I started writing I wasn't sure what I was going to write about, so I shuffled my music and the song 'Word's I Couldn't Say' by Leighton Meester. All of a sudden I knew this is what I need to write. I don't know why but it felt right. If I were to have listened to this song a few months ago, I probably would have started to cry because it would remind me of them and the pain I felt. Today, it hit me differently. I actually felt the words at a deeper level. I felt it with the feeling of love I'm carrying inside for them with acceptance of letting things be what they are and not living it what it could have been or could be. I felt every word because it's exactly what I am feeling right now. So "what do I do now that you're gone?/ no backup plan/no second chance/ no one else to blame"

You move on because you realized where you also went wrong and realize you could have found a way to say what you really felt but you were so afraid of being vulnerable that you choked and now you're dealing with the outcome. So we learn not to repeat that lesson because it was a painful lesson to be learned. Why? because sometimes the lesson is more painful than the rejection you could have felt instead. With a rejection that is it, there is no more, but with a lesson, you don't always get that closure. It's like when the author leaves an open-ended ending to a story and it drives you crazy not knowing how it would have ended. So I leave it at 'if it's meant to be it'll be". In my heart, I don't feel that we are completely done. Not yet but it's slowly fading day by day. If a connection that deep, that once scared me away, were to present itself a second time in my life I won't let it go. Our love never really grew, we didn't leave it in a bad way, we just let it fizzle and ran away from what we really felt because we hadn't before. Real love is a funny thing. I always asked for it and then when I think had it I didn't realize it and ran from it. All I can say is that the next time I feel that again I'm running straight toward it and not letting go.

#love #beautifulfeeling #whatithinkabout

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oonajaeadira · 2 years

Note

Hi 🥺 I adore your writing and I’m OBSESSED with how you write PATS. He is. So fine. I was wondering if reader ever had a wet/sex dream about PATS during their nap time and how PATS would react to that if he caught them… 👀 sending much love and hope you’re taking care! ♥️

Hello, friend. Thank you!!!

That would require him being in the room with her, say maybe after recreating a certain night in a hotel? I think he'd enjoy it...

...if he wasn't distracted.

Sorry, anon. I started to answer your ask and got distracted...

Truth or Dare: Unblurring the Lines, part 2(GTTT PATS)

FANDOM: Calls - Apple TV (PATS is a character from ep. 3. “Pedro Across the Street.” This is not RPF.)

(gif by hoberynmartell)

Twenty more minutes and he’ll wake you from your nap. Most of the clients find the soft ticking of the analog clock soothing. Soporific.

He wonders if he should paint the ceiling a darker color. Soak up some of the ambient light.

The weather must be getting warmer; the house is settling, little ticks and creaks here and there.

It’s a windy day outside. The rush of it is in direct opposition of your gentle breath on his chest as you sleep.

As planned, he’d let you take control of him again, lost his mind over you again, fucked you in the shower again.

Curled up with you in bed. Again.

But this time, no sleeping for him.

Just thoughts playing on a loop against the cool white ceiling.

“Gotta ask you about my Thursday client,” he’d asked Shell at their latest get together.

“Thursday client?” Her eyes slid to the side, searching her memory as she took a sip from the bottle, her coral nails clinking on the glass. “The divorcee?”

Back booth, Rusty’s bar, last call crowd, early 2000’s alternative rock satellite station. Tired faces, slumped shoulders, unfocused eyes.

He sat back in the corner of the booth, one leg up on the bench seat, folding and unfolding a damp cardboard coaster. “Yeah.”

“Not like you to talk about clients. This must be good.”

“Why’d you send this one to me, Shell?”

A shrug. A tap of a nail against the bottle. “You were in such a funk about Renee getting married. You needed a distraction. This one seemed to be your type, recent divorce, probably not looking for anything, wouldn’t get in too deep, maybe some fun for you.” Her eye pinched as if preparing for a blow. “You’re not still treating her?”

“Yeah.”

The bottle scraped against the table as she dragged it aside, out of her way, more room for her elbows as she leaned in. “Shit, Pat. It’s been months. What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story.” He thought about giving her the shorter version. Then went for the shortest. “I’m getting attached.”

“She’s a good fuck then.”

“She’s very…open. Playful. I..." want to take care of her "enjoy her enthusiasm. I feel myself giving more than I take."

An arched eyebrow. “My powers are too great, it seems. What’s her reaction to this?”

A sigh. A reflexive pinch to the bridge of his nose. Trigger point. Good for headaches. “I don’t know. There are nights that seem like a normal session and others where… I’m sure she…feels the same.”

Shit. He shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s why he asked Shell out for a drink but…shit. He knew what she was going to say. Didn't want to hear it. Then why did he meet with her? Because he needed to hear it. Needed a little help at the wheel.

Thank god he didn’t say anything about the hotel. Fuck.

“Did you tell her about your–”

“–She knows.”

“Huh.” While Shell wasn’t exactly enjoying his discomfort, but she still wore that big-sister smirk, the one that knew her friend and his foibles all too well. “Well, if she knows, she knows, and if she’s still willing to play along, then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want another incident.”

“So don’t date her. Just fuck her and get paid and have fun. Enjoy yourself.”

“Not real professional.”

She laughed, a hoarse but genuine and loving laugh, and had his hands been on the tabletop he’s sure she would have folded her own around them. “Professional. You? Listen. The woman was cheated on by her husband, I’m sure the last thing she wants to do is date a sex junkie.”

He tried to ask the next question with a neutral attitude. And faltered. “And what if she did?”

“Damn. You’ve got it bad. Listen. Stop worrying about shit until you’ve got something to worry about. Does she take advantage of the extra nights you offer her?”

“No.”

“Does she ask for more of your time?”

“No.”

Another shrug. “Sounds like you’re both happy with this arrangement. Until she says any different, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

As he lays in bed now with his arm curled around you, fingers lightly tracing your hip, he closes his eyes and cringes inwardly when he thinks about the rest of the conversation. How much he wishes he had just let it end there. But no.

It just fell out of him.

“And what if I needed more?”

Shell waited until he stopped fiddling with the coaster. Until he met her eye. It took a while. He wasn't looking forward to this.

“You think you can commit?”

Just because the question came from a place of trust and deep friendship didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“No.”

“Then you’d have to cut her off.” Simple. Truthful. Tough love.

“Yeah.”

Her inhale was an invitation–one of taking in courage and understanding, readying them both for the advice he’d come for from the person who had seen him try and fail to overcome the worst side of himself and still accepted him as a whole human. “But. Keep her around, let her know you’re always going to be there for what you agreed to be there for, and she’ll continue to show up and give you what you need. Keep it up for as long as you both are satisfied and deal with it if there’s a problem. Deal with it later. It’s not like you have anyone to answer to. You make your own rules, right?”

His breath hitches as your nails dig into his chest. Your fingers claw and grasp at him languidly, dragging him back to this room and this Thursday and he listens as you moan low and long in your sleep, the ache resonating deep in the back of your throat and hits against the back of your clenched teeth.

It’s a sound he’s heard you make before. It’s a sound he’s caused you to make before. Knows exactly where that button is and at what angle to hit it and for how long.

Your head rides high on his chest as it puffs up in self-satisfaction.

He might guess what you’re dreaming about.

Is it because you can smell him? Feel him? He should feel guilty for staying–you’re not getting your best rest like this.

Just this once, it doesn’t matter.

He lets your moan vibrate through him.

But the sounds soon start breaking. Start catching in your throat. Start to sound like a struggle to speak. Your body twitches. And your nails dig in hard.

“Hey,” he coaxes, stroking your shoulder and gently pulling your fingers away from his chest. “Hey, preciosa. You’re having a bad dream. Come on.”

Coming to with a swift lungful of air, you pull back to open eyes at him, a desperate soul, like a woman arriving from another time and place, a blank moment as you register where you are before falling back onto him with a pained exhale. “Shit.”

“You okay?”

You don’t answer for a long moment. Your breath comes in greedy inhales, gravity-pulled exhales. Your pulse thrums against him. One thing he can give you is time.

“I took that job,” you mumble, and his stomach drops. “But I came back to see you. Showed up and your house was gone. Just… gone.”

Ah. Just a dream.

He should feel panic, sees where it should be gathering in his mind, and instead turns away from it toward an assembly of relief.

He makes his own rules.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, strokes your hip, your shoulder, his palm coming to rest heavy on your head, pressing you gently against himself, his gaze roaming the ceiling. Blue. He should paint it a velvety royal blue. You’d sleep better.

Your fingers clutch.

Definitely blue.

________

Long after your car is gone, he’s still staring out the window after it, numb, his thoughts not landing on what he might expect; there’s a few episodes of a show he’s been watching he should catch up on. He should pull that steak out of the freezer for this weekend. Gotta go change the sheets for tomorrow’s client.

Has it always been this quiet in here?

The next thing he knows, he’s standing in the massage room staring down at the carpet. He’s been here a while now. You usually just put on your outer layers and drive home commando when you’re done with him. Stash your bra and panties in your purse.

Since he was in bed with you, he didn’t have the chance to lay out your clothes . You’d picked them up off the floor to dress this time.

This time, something was forgotten.

He picks up your underwear. Places them on the bedside table. He’ll deal with those later.

It really is quiet in here.

The room still smells like you.

He’ll deal with it later.

___

SERIES MASTERLIST

#good things take time #pedro across the street #calls fanfiction #17

413 notes · View notes

pinkmirth · 3 years

Note

can i req some dad reiner fluff? i feel like he would have a lot of kids bc of the breeding kink 🥴 but yeah just some cute stuff pls thank uuuu!!

THE THOUGHT OF REINER BEING FATHER JUST DOES SOMETHING TO ME I- AJHSJS

THANK YOU SM FOR REQUESTING, ANON!! LET'S GET CAUGHT UP IN THE REINER BRAINROT TOGETHER <3

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—DAD REINER!

(MODERN AU + MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY + FEMALE BODIED READER + FLUFF + SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE + REINER BEING THE BEST DAD EVER DUH + TW: SLIGHT LANGUAGE)

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Dad Reiner who was such a hot mess moments before he became a father to begin with. The pair of you are situated inside a hospital room, occupied with things much bigger than a sprained ankle. He stood alongside you, his beloved, all the while; Encouraging your efforts and attempting to ease your pain with the squeeze of your hand within his bigger one. As fretful as he feels, it's no surprise that Reiner ends up passing out a good few times, and he wasn't even the one in labor. Though, the hard part is now over, and all his worry has subsided.

Dad Reiner who recalls whimpering, weakly grinning, and eventually bawling of joy when holding his child for the first time. You'd never seen his cries mingled with such joy before. He cradles yours and his newborn within firm forearms and large, mindful hands. The pair of you sob and smile, ogle your baby with a relieved, content thrum in your heart. You allow Reiner to attempt squeezing into the hospital bed beside you, as broad and weighty as he is, with your child being held right between you and him. He’s a hot mess, but an overjoyed one who has you; and little Reiner x [Y/N] junior 🥺

Dad Reiner who converses with you for days before ultimately deciding on a name for yours and his daughter— Joyce Braun. He contemplated on “Karina”, the name of his dear mother. Though, he wants his little girl to be better than any past generation, and rather goes with a more revitalizing name, one that holds a simple, but deep meaning in his perspective. As obvious as it sounds, the name means “Joyful”. That's all he wants; for his kid to be happy in this life, happier than he ever was. Therefore, he bases her name, the root of his dear child’s identity, on cheerfulness.

Dad Reiner who tends to grow somewhat frustrated. Not with you of course, not even with Joyce’s incessant wailing in the early hours of the morning, but with himself. It wasn't as though he did anything wrong, he simply hopes that he won't. Begs himself not to fuck up with this whole “Parent” thing. If it wasn’t clear enough, Reiner wants to be nothing like his own father. He’ll never, ever shoo his child away and disregard them, but instead use those same hands to hold, guide, and lift them up. It doesn't take long for the blonde to snap out of his funk, because he's sure that he can become all the better for the sake of his little family.

Dad Reiner who wakes to your still, ethereal-like form every morning, and it's enough to make his day. A kiss to your neck, a nibble along your earlobe, and a couple repetitive rubs to your waist and thighs are enough to stir you right awake. And if that isn't the case, then it's usually the other way around; You pressing soft, lengthy kisses to his sharp, attractive cheekbones. Despite who arises first, there’s always one thing that's bound to happen— Joyce making her arrival into the bedroom via crawl, with a babble and a cute, happy little shriek upon seeing her parents.

The pair of you have no clue as to how she manages to make her way over to your room every time, but you're simply glad that she does so safely. It's Reiner’s cue to leap out of bed and scoop her off of the carpet and into his awaiting arms, clad in nothing but a white tee and the baggiest sweats. He appears disheveled, but it's still clear to see the main striking similarity between him and his pretty little daughter; Those amber brown eyes that hold the same warm, yellowish hue as his do.

He rocks the giggling one-year old, back and forth and right back again, gazing upon his squirming bundle of joy until you mention that he’s been doing so for a whole ten minutes. He grows sheepish and merely chuckles in reply, resting Joyce’s head upon his firm chest with a sigh. He could do this for ten hours more if it were up to him.

Dad Reiner who knocked you up a couple more times, and real damn good at that. There’s something of a breeding fetish that he’s got on him, which is the reason why your little family is now two kids larger. There’s Joyce, who’s now seven years old, along with her two baby brothers, the pair being a mere one year apart from the other. You and Reiner no longer have to worry about checking on Joyce in her crib, for she sleeps on her own bed now, like the “big girl” she claims to be.

Though, the boys now have you both occupied, and you’re lucky to have an older daughter who’s so understanding and rarely ever grows jealous. Joyce, your girl who’s on more of the rambunctious side but ironically never pleads for attention, has been spending much more quality time with Reiner. Both you and him are busy with the boys, but the blonde tends to have free time on his hands every now and then. Besides, someone’s got to keep Joyce company.

Reiner happily obliges, and makes this father-daughter time worthwhile. Wholesome picnics to the park that always end in races back to the car and Reiner being a damned klutz and dropping his sandwich. Having a “spa day”, filled with Reiner’s not-so-great attempts at doing his girl’s hair, messy manicures and a hefty bag of makeup that Joyce “borrowed” from you. He spoils the girl as if the lot of you are rich (and since Reiner’s always got a hefty load of spare cash, you technically are), but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dad Reiner who’s a lot more used to this “dad” thing now, since it’s been a couple good years down the line. You and him have amazing bonds with each of your kids, but they seem to latch onto Reiner’s large, broad body at any given time a lot more than they do you. Joyce is twelve, the brothers are five and six, and Reiner’s officially a DILF— The finest one at that. His stubble stays nicely trimmed, along with the subtle creases at his eyes becoming a little more distinctive. Goes to work, and sometimes takes the kid’s lunches instead of his own, because that's just the Reiner Way.

He’s the ultimate father in practically every situation, even when looking out for peers and comrades. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just that habits easily stick with Reiner, and it’s rather difficult for him to let them go. Besides, with three kids, how do you expect him to not be in “dad mode”?

Dad Reiner who utterly loves having random little talks with his kids, and never invalidates them, not for one second. It’s almost as though he can see things in their perspective, and they don’t know anyone else better to vent to other than their dad and mom. Though, when they tend to babble on about something that’s rather popular within their generation, it gets hard for him to catch up. They proceed to call him “old” and receive a good chase around the house before they get caught and looped into a tickle attack, and that's basically the worst thing imaginable if you’re in the Braun family. The reason being is Reiner’s unparalleled speed, despite his age; Thirties to early forties, but he’s still extremely fit, and has no problem running a mile if he has to.

Dad Reiner who’s in love with his family and the person they’ve gradually helped him become. You cherish him and your kids like none other, and he does the same. Sometimes it abruptly dawns on him; He’s a dad, and he’s actually a good one, who would’ve known? He smiles to himself, allowing his amber eyes to flit over to wherever you are before his soft grin grows wider. You look back, blow a kiss, and he does the same. The action is exchanged before he strides over to give you the real deal— Though, your sweet little peck is all cut short when Joyce and the boys skip in and start making kissy noises, with you and Reiner laughing all the while.

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“Papa,” Gale, the youngest son of the bunch, calls aloud and gains his father’s attention. Reiner peers up from his book and gives a brief, questioning response. “Yes, dove?” It’s a simple, sweet nickname; One that he calls you, Joyce, and the boys.

“Mommy’s in the bathroom crying.” The blonde drops his novel with an punctuating hitch of his breath, the book falling upon the couch with a dull thump. “—Why? Is she alright?” Reiner, the man who generally keeps himself rather poised, is now frantic, sharp brows downturned at his son's statement.

“Uh, I dunno. She’s crying, but smiling too.” This then causes Reiner’s brows to furrow. “Smiling, you say?”

“Yeah. Can we go out to get ice cream today? I wanna get, uh.. Chocolate chip, please!”

Reiner lets a brief laugh slip loose at Gale’s query, but he has to prioritize his wife over a summertime snack. He then begins to make a beeline towards the bathroom, in search of you. “Soon enough, dove. I’ve got to go up there and check on your momma first, alright—?”

Gale then shrugs and hops onto the couch, little feet padding along the spacey seat as the leather creases underneath his weight.

“By the way, Papa,” Reiner then pauses, open to any vital information his son could give, “she has this funny stick thingy in her hand. It’s got two little lines on it and stuff.”

Reiner chokes on his breath, lower lip beginning to tremble and quirk into a smile. If the case is what he thinks it is, he’s got all the reason to bust out with the teary eyes and jovial whimpers, just as he did when receiving the news of his three expected children in the past.

“A stick..?”

“Mhm,” hums Gale, proceeding to jump upon the dark brown couch, “Mama probably wants some chocolate chip ice cream too.”

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calcifermovesthecastle · 3 years

Text

Shared Language

Ghiaccio x Florist!Reader, gn pronouns, fluff ending

1000 follower giveaway for @therealcozyy after a million years I’m so sorry

Warnings: kind of angst, hospitalization and IV’s but nothing major

At the end of a busy day, all you want to do is close up shop and trudge to the apartment the floor above you, and collapse into bed. Thirteen Bridal Bouquets, Add on roughly six each for bridesmaids, as well as walkin customers have you frenzied and harrowed and exhausted, your hands aching with the amount of work you pulled today. Annoyance shoots through you when you hear the patronizing ring of the bell, signaling someone new, and you squeeze your eyes shut, collecting yourself before you turn around.

"I'm horribly sorry, but we are closed for the night, so-" Your voice trails off when your eyes graze over the Passione pin glinting on the man's shirt, and you visibly wilt when your eyes travel up to his face. "Of course. How much do I owe you?"

"It's a protection fee. It's not any lower or higher than it's ever been," He responds, looking just as annoyed with the situation as you feel. You sigh, biting your tongue, and crouch behind the counter, skimming the shelves for the envelope you usually keep the fee in.

"Right, here you are. Um, let me count it out just to make sure I have it all, if that's alright?"

His eyes meet yours, narrowing, before he shrugs, resting his hands on the counter. You flip through the bills, organizing them by every fifty euros. He watches you count like a hawk, his eyes flicking to your face when you purse your lips in a particular way and freeze.

"Shit."

You disappear into the back office, and he can see you rummaging around, looking more and more stressed as you go.

"Is there a problem?" He calls after you, an edge to his voice.

"No, no, it's-" You come back out to the front, looking near tears as you open the cash register. Your voice cracks when you speak again. "No, there's not a problem. Give me just a moment."

By the time you've finished counting, there's ten euros left in the register, and tears have started to pool into your eyes. You have to swallow to speak, and when you do, your voice is soft and catches on each word.

"There. Ten-Ten thousand Euros." You recount once more just to make sure it's all there, tucking it back into the envelope and handing it over to him. His eyebrows knit as he glances to your register, and your lip trembles when you speak again. "Now, really, sir, I do have to close up for the night."

Even though he's left your shop, he remains in his car, watching you lean over your desk and cry as you appear to do some calculations. Wordlessly, he drives away.

You're in the middle of arguing with a customer on the price of a standard funeral basket when the bell rings, and one glance over at the door has you panicking.

"Shit, sir, you need to leave," You usher the fuming customer out the door and swivel, your eyes wide, at the man from last night. "Was it not enough?! Are you going to take my-"

"Woah, slow down!" He holds up his hands. "I just- do you want- cazzo," He spits, shoving his hands in his pockets. You shift nervously, hysteria quickly threatening to well up past your throat. "Shit. I saw that you didn't have much left yesterday, so I wanted to- buy you lunch."

You aren't sure if you heard him properly, but when what he says finally registers, your legs crumple underneath you.

You wake to a concerned blue haired man, and a curious purple haired one who's taking your pulse and checking you over for injuries.

"Oh, good, you're awake," The purple haired one smiles cooly, helping you sit up. You press a hand to the back of your head, wincing. "Ghiaccio here called me in a frenzy when you passed out. I'd pass out too if he ever asked me out to eat."

The blue haired one- Ghiaccio, glares daggers at his companion, practically frothing at the mouth, his teeth grinding back and forth. The purple haired one pays him no mind, continuing his conversation with you as if you were old friends.

"I don't think you need to go to the hospital, but my advice is close early and get some rest.

"I- what?" Your mind is still trying to catch up to what's happening- two men from Passione acting so casual with you it's like you've known them for years. You frown, gingerly rubbing the back of your head. Not Ghiaccio chuckles, the corners of his lips quirking up with the action as he repeats himself.

"I- I can't. I can't afford to close early. My rent is due in three days and I have 300 euros. That makes me 1700 euros short and if I'm short again I'll lose my business."

"Have you eaten since last night?" Ghiaccio speaks up, his words harsher than he probably intends. You stare at him blankly.

"No?"

"Do you want to?"

"I-" You glance at the clock. "I would, but…"

"What if we brought you some food back here?" Not Ghiaccio coos, earning a death glare from his companion. You bite your lip, slowly getting to your feet.

"I guess so? If you're offering."

"I'll be back in forty minutes," Ghiaccio ushers his companion out of your shop, and you're left alone to mull over what happened.

True to his word, he strolls back into your shop forty five minutes later, a bottle of water and a box of margherita pizza in hand. He sets it on your counter, biting his bottom lip nervously.

"Are you pitying me?" You ask him quietly, reaching out for the bottle of water, pausing just before you grasp it.

"Since when is doing something nice for someone pitying them?" He looks genuinely taken aback, and you can see anger rising in his face. You decide to let the issue go, opening the box and taking a slice of pizza.

"It's not something you had to do," You take a bite, feeling a little awkward that you're eating in front of him. "But thank you."

He takes a slice of pizza for himself, looking uncomfortably stiff as he eats. You share a tense silence with him, your mind reeling with the possibilities of his presence.

"Are you not enjoying yourself?"

"I could ask you the same thing," You turn to him, pulled out of your funk. "You're standing in my lobby still as a statue, looking like I just gave you the worst news of your life."

"What the hell does that mean?" He snaps, stiffening even more. You cover your mouth to hide the smile forming on your lips. Maybe you could enjoy his company after all.

"It means if your eyebrows knit together any further, you're going to form a unibrow," You take a discreet sip of the water he gave you, laughing when he swivels to face the window, trying to see what you're describing.

His heart stutters when he hears it, the way your mirth sounds so musical and carefree. God, he thinks to himself. He could listen to that forever.

"Hey, listen," You set the bottle of water down, moving around behind the counter for a moment. When you look satisfied, he watches as you come around the counter and present him with a small bouquet, mixed with white clover, pink sweet pea, Hydrangeas, and peach colored roses. "Thank you."

His face burns as he reaches out and takes the flowers, his heart hammering in his chest when his hand grazes yours. You smile gently at him, retreating back behind the counter. He can't find anything else to say, so he gives you a gruff goodbye and leaves your shop, sitting in his car long after he arrives home.

"Who're the flowers from?" Prosciutto looks up from his book, eyebrow raised in question as Ghiaccio enters the hideout. Ghiaccio balks, stammering in a mix of embarrassment and indignation.

"The florist three blocks down. Why do you need to know?"

"Oh? They never give me flowers when I collect their protection fee," Prosciutto hums, tilting his head.

"When's the last time you bought them lunch?" Melone drapes himself over the back of the couch Prosciutto lounges on, grinning coyly at Ghiaccio as he searches for a vase. Prosciutto hums again in understanding.

"Their shop still not doing too well, huh? How much did they have left this time?"

"You make it sound like you want their business to fail," Pesci whines, jutting his lower lip out. "They're always so nice to me when I collect the fee. They'd lose their home if they shut down."

"They had ten euros," Ghiaccio answers, grabbing a cup and filling it with water, setting the arrangement of flowers inside and carrying it to his room. He gingerly places it on his windowsill, tilting it until he's satisfied that it would get the best amount of sunlight. Prosciutto appears in the door, entering without asking and leaning over Ghiaccio's shoulder to peer at the flowers. His mouth quirks up into a smile when he's satisfied and turns to leave.

"What? What's that face for?" Ghiaccio stops him from leaving, his tone demanding. Prosciutto looks too smug for his own good, his eyes slanted downwards as he studies Ghiaccio's form.

"Look up the meaning of those flowers and you'll understand," Prosciutto sidesteps and leaves with a wave of his hand, leaving Ghiaccio fuming.

He had wanted to come by sooner, but unfortunately, got caught up in an odd schedule where he'd travel from job to job, and got stuck in Rome for a month on a hit that only paid One Hundred thousand euros. By the time he'd come back home, he did nothing but sleep and keep up on the paperwork for two days.

The next time he shows up at your shop, you're not there, and the windows and doors have been boarded up. The sign on the entrance says "Gone out of business."

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit!" He kicks the door frame furiously with each swear, earning some strange glances and some comments.

"Christ, man, they weren't even the best florist in town. It's a wonder they stayed afloat as long as they did."

"Heard it was because they couldn't pay their rent this month. Honestly, with how much Passione charges, it's not even a protection fee anymore, it's an eviction notice waiting to happen."

"Honestly, they're just flowers. Why is he so worked up?"

"The person running the shop wasn't even that personable."

The crowd he'd accumulated falls silent when he turns around, his expression nothing less than smoldering. Some furtive glances at his pin, and soon, the street is empty.

He meanders back home, kicking pebbles to the side, glowering at anyone even remotely in his way, and slams the door so hard it almost falls off of the hinges when he arrives, earning a displeased look from Prosciutto.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Where the fuck are they?"

"That's rather vague," Prosciutto lights a cigarette and leans back on the couch, resting his ankle on his knee. "Did you have a hit go wrong, or-"

"The fucking-" Ghiaccio all but stomps over to where his colleague sits, ripping the cigarette from his mouth and taking a deep dreg himself. Prosciutto's brow furrows in annoyance, but he doesn't say anything as he pulls out another from his silver case and lights it. "The florist. They went out of business. Where did they go?"

"Like I should know the answer to that," Prosciutto scoffs, tapping his ashes into the tray on the end table. Ghiaccio follows suit, taking another deep inhale, sputtering when it goes up his nose. Prosciutto huffs again, shrugging. "What am I? A babysitter? I told you they were going to go under."

"Well, who collected their fee last?" Ghiaccio throws himself into the chair perpendicular to Prosciutto, tapping his ashes out. Prosciutto hums.

"Had to have been Risotto. The rest of us were all on hits at the time it's usually collected."

Ghiaccio bolts up, putting out his half smoked cigarette, earning a glare from Prosciutto.

"If you're going to steal my smokes, the least you could do is finish them. These are expensive, you know."

"Then buy a cheaper brand," Ghiaccio retaliates, walking back towards Risotto's office. "We're on a budget anyways, aren't we?"

Just barely in earshot, he can hear Prosciutto telling him to fuck off. Inhaling deeply, he knocks on his capo's door.

"No clue."

"What the fuck do you mean, no clue?" Ghiaccio's voice is nearing hysterics, and he taps his foot fast, his eyes blown wide. Risotto's demeanor doesn't change, he just hums.

"Exactly that. I collected their fee two weeks ago. I was in and out. I didn't even know they were shut down until just five minutes ago, when you burst in here screaming about it."

"Cazzo. CAZZO! Fine, I'll find them myself!"

"You said Melone went and helped you with a fainting spell they had? See if he can help."

"See if that slimy- oh."

Of course.

Of course it had to snow.

You sit against the brick wall of the alleyway, doing your best to ignore the drug deal to your left, and the way your stomach twists painfully.

"Hey! Hey, you!"

You hunker down, your brow furrowed miserably, and close in on yourself a little more to stave off the cold.

"Hey, you, on the ground! Get the fuck outta here. This is my turf!" Your screamer's legs appear in front of you, and you look up at him, dead eyed. "Jeez, you look like real shit, you know? When's the last time you ate?"

"Leave me alone."

"What, not even a hello?" Your perpetrator sneers, crouching to your level. You don't have it in you to even glare. You're too hungry. He scoffs, eyeing you. "Tch. Find somewhere else to starve to death, huh? You're making it hard for me to do my business."

"Do you have to humiliate me any more than I already am?" You sigh, trying to get to your feet. "Fine. Just leave me alone."

You lean heavily on the wall, your legs trembling underneath you. Homelessness has not treated you well, and the stares your emaciated body receive only further your spiral into despair.

You've barely made it to the next alley over when your legs give out, and you collapse face first into the accumulated snow. Hazily, you think to yourself that you have to get something to drink somehow, and pull yourself up, grabbing handfuls and shoving it into your mouth, nevermind how cold you already are, your thin long sleeves and tattered excuse for pants clinging wetly to your body. The only thing you can do now is wish for death to come faster than it does. You fall down onto your side and stare blankly at the opposite wall, willing yourself to fall asleep.

You think you see a pair of legs come to a halt in front of you before you slip into a haze.

When you wake again, a flat white ceiling greets you instead of a cloudy sky, and you notice the weight of a blanket on you. Hazily, you glance over and notice an IV drip hanging out of your arm, and a somewhat familiar blond haired man in a suit sitting next to your bed, smoking a cigarette and absentmindedly reading a newspaper. His eyes flick over when he senses your movement, and his brow shoots up. The paper is set aside, and he takes a generous hit from his cigarette before speaking.

"Good morning. We weren't sure if you were going to pull out of that or not. You've been asleep for almost four days. It's funny. You lose your business, and suddenly, you drop off of our radar. It was quite a chore to find you, you know."

"Are you mocking me?" You croak, trying to pull yourself up into a sitting position. The blond appraises you for a minute, puffing smoke out of his mouth. "Are we in a hospital? I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to smoke in hospitals."

"I doubt the staff is going to give me a hard time," The man speaks lightly, lounging back. "You certainly are something. You've been awake two minutes and you already have a smart mouth?" A small smile lights up his features. "I guess you could say that you're a trooper."

"I'm starving," You bite your lip, turning away, your eyes widening when you finally place the man. "Shit! You're from Passione! Oh my god, oh, I lost my-"

"I already know that," The man waves you off. "I'm just here to keep an eye on you and take you home once you get discharged."

"But I don't- I don't have a home," You place your thumbnail between your teeth, looking at him anxiously. He dismisses you again, snubbing out his smoke.

"That's why I'm here, kid."

His vagueness annoys you, but one glance at the box of apple juice and ham sandwich on your bedside tray has anything you want to say dying in your mouth, and by the time you've scarfed it down, tears spark at the corner of your eyes, and any animosity towards the gangster has dissipated.

"Thank you."

The blond- he's since introduced himself as Prosciutto, drives in silence away from the hospital, not saying anything to you about where you're going. You fidget nervously in the passenger seat, jumping when he parks the care and tells you that you've arrived.

You're still a little unsteady on your feet, so Prosciutto guides you down the stairs with a hand on the small of your back, and leans across you to unlock and open the door. The minute you step inside, you're greeted with almost everyone who's come to collect your protection fees. The only one missing is the blue haired one who bought you lunch- Ghiaccio.

The...boss… Risotto, as introduced, gives you a quick tour of your new residence, telling you that everything is free range, that he's going to have you take on some of the deskwork in return, and shows you to your room. Inside is a bed and a few changes of clothes in the closet. At this point, you're teetering on the edge of bawling your eyes out, and you can barely choke out a thank you, giving him a wobbly smile. You swear you can see him smile in return.

You're sitting on the edge of your bed that night, fidgeting nervously, your mind spinning 100 miles per hour, when there's a knock at your door. You practically jump out of your skin, and call out a shaky "Come In."

The door creaks open slowly, and there he is, his hands hidden behind his back.

Ghiaccio.

You stand slowly, your eyes searching his face.

"Did you-" You catch yourself, starting towards him hesitantly. He seems just as hesitant as he walks towards you. "Did you make this happen?"

"Not really," His voice is soft and hoarse, and the way his brow is furrowed tells you just how worried he was, but the light in his eyes shows you how relieved he feels to see you in person again. "I just suggested it, really. Sort of… Panicked... When I saw your- your shop-" His voice falters when you reach out and grab his shoulder. Tears are welling in your eyes for what feels like the eightieth time today, and your lower lip trembles when your hand comes in contact with him. He's a little cold to the touch, but it's comforting and refreshing.

"Thank you," You manage. He swallows thickly, revealing his hands and shoving something harshly in your direction. He's beet red now, and looking anywhere but you. You grab it, taken aback, and look down to inspect it.

Now you really start to cry, tears spilling onto the arrangement of Daffodils, Daisies, purple lilacs, irises, and lavender roses. So much said in one little bouquet. A sob expels from your throat, and you look up at him, catching him watching you out of the corner of his eye.

You set the flowers on your bed, stepping forward to wrap your arms around him.

"They're good?" He sounds nervous, and stiffens at the contact.

"They're wonderful," You confirm, your voice thick as you bury your face into his shoulder. His arms wind around you, then, and you can hear the relief in his voice when he murmurs to you again.

"Welcome home."

#Ghiaccio x reader #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #jojo no kimyou na bouken #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jjba #jojos #jojo's #la squadra x reader #Prosciutto #Ghiaccio #Melone #Pesci #risotto #la squadra

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