#Alright this is the last one. For now anyway.

[whotookcheesuschrist]

I would like to add a couple of examples, more to outline this. I can't fucking remember the source for the former, but if you want tangible examples of this put into practice:

There was this female journalist and author, and to my immense shame I cannot remember her name, only that she moved from Norway to London at some point, who had this fantastic documentary detailing her meetings with the people who bashed her very existence, her being of Muslim heritage. She met them and asked them, face to face, why they hated her. The result of that was often really damn sad. With the exception of... I believe it was Rick Spencer (the neo nazi what got clocked on live television), most to all of them started having a really hard time justifying their politics, mainly because they thought she was. Quite alright, actually. Problem was that in these cases that just brought the same SynTax error we can see in interviews from the last week or so when moms voting for the Drump seemed to believe that their daughters was just misunderstanding things, like there was room for discussion for what the problem was. (Leopard eating faces-meme.) It also highlighted just how lonely a lot of those guys were; they had essentially isolated themselves into a very, very lonely existence where nothing else but the Qanon-bullshit existed. (See also, Sacha Baron Cohen regaling what he experienced when he in-character was taken in by Q-anon boys and spent the night in their place.)

We have a trial in France right now which might be the most explicit and unquestionable rape cases in history. These men had to be dragged to the courts, forced to watch the irrefutable evidence they themselves taped along with the entire damn nation, and that's, that's the point where any of the fuckers felt shame for themselves. There was nowhere to run at all. Think about just how hard it is to capture these people like that. Think about how many to one that is to make them stop deflecting.

Point is, we've got a lot of work ahead of us.

I also think it's worth noting that, under the age of Obama's presidency and such where a lot of protection started to be written down on paper more akin to what we will now, sadly, remember the Biden administration for as the good old days (among a LOT of things, for good and bad)... how many years of pushing and nudges did it take to get there? And yet after years those protection came to pass anyway. Think through what needs to be done, then don't give up.

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

the pests are back in town | chaos fc

summary: someone at arsenal made a rookie error and paired the aussie pest and british menace together for media day and it's the usual chaos like always. pairings: chaos fc reader!monkey x kyra cooney cross x arsenal wfc chaos fc masterlist

“It’s a joke right? Tell me it’s a mistake?” You overhear Steph question as you walk nearer to them and you’re curious to know exactly what they’re talking about.

Kim sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I don’t think so.”

“Alright, I’m here now the party can begin,” You joke, hobbling through with your foot still in a boot and grinning mischievously when you spot Lia chatting with Kim and Steph, “Hi, Wallaby! Did you miss me?” You ask, slinging your arm around the Swiss woman’s shoulder with a slight difficulty of her being taller than you.

“Hi little one,” Lia turns to give you a side hug, “How did the hospital appointment go?” She asks, concerned.

“Doc’ is dumb,” You murmur in a low voice, your mood changing instantly at the mention of the appointment you had this morning that didn’t go your way like you thought it would.

You were kind of disheartened by your latest hospital appointment, you didn’t get the good news that you were expecting after all and you were still going to be sidelined for a while yet, since your ankle fracture still hadn’t healed properly yet.

That definitely wasn’t made worse by the fall you had when you and Kyra tried and failed to do a TikTok trend, but that’s a story for a different day.

“Here’s the menace,” Steph jokes, ruffing your hair, “I see you still got the boot on, eh?”

“Unfortunately, I hate it,” You huff while definitely feeling grumpy and deflated about the news, “Stupid doc reckons it’s still not healed properly yet– I just wanna play and I have no chance of it anytime soon, it’s not fair!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried that TikTok trend then,” Kim remarks knowingly as she gives you a pointed look you’ve been on the receiving end of too many times.

“What TikTok trend? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about there, Kimmy,” You play dumb and shrug your shoulders.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kim states while she purses her lips.

Shaking your head, you pull a silly facial expression, “Nope, literally have no idea–  What’re you guys lookin’ so… Irked about anyways?” You wonder, noting the weary looks the three of them share, “What’s going on?”

“It’s gotta be a mistake,” Steph murmurs, staring at the paper with a blank expression on her face, “Right?”

Before you can get a straight answer, Lia jumps into the conversation again, “It’s gotta be.”

“What?” You repeat the question, staring at them while still none the wiser.

“Nope it’s not,” Beth appears, peering over Kim’s shoulder and confirming what you’re already itching to know.

“Oh god,” Steph mutters, shaking her head in disagreement.

You blink, still utterly confused about the topic of conversation they were on about, “What… What is it?” You exchange looks between all 4 of the older girls, but none of them are giving you anything to work with, “What’re you all on about?”

“You and Kyra,” Lia finally decides to be the one to tell you the good news, “You pair are together for media day.” She tells you, biting her bottom lip and clearly bracing for impact.

“Seriously?” Your eyes light up in pure glee, “Yes! Winner!” You're practically vibrating with excitement, and if it wasn’t for your dumb ankle fracture then you would definitely be jumping up and down in joy.

You and Kyra? A dangerous duo on any given day, but today– on media day– things were about to get even more chaotic.

Steph groans dramatically, “We’re all doomed.”

“Who made the mistake?” Beth furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head, “These two together are a nightmare– The last media day proved it alone!”

“Hey! We’re not that bad,” You insist, huffing in offense.

“Yes. You are,” Steph deadpans, “You and Kyra are the worst when you’re together. Need I remind you of Melbourne?”

“Oh, but that was such a fun time!” You exclaim, grinning mischievously, “I don’t know about you, but I personally had a blast out there.”

“I think Kim is still reliving that nightmare,” Lia chips in amusedly as you sneak a glance at your captain who you swear shudders at the memory, “This isn’t a good idea.”

You pout, crossing your arms together, “Oh, come on. You guys seriously don’t think that much about us, do you?”

Beth doesn’t even think to hesitate, “No.”

“Absolutely not,” Steph shakes her head, reinforcing it.

You open your mouth to argue, but then Katie strolls over  with Caitlin while smirking, “Oh you guys just discovered the pests are together for media day?” She questions.

“This is a nightmare,” Beth shakes her head dramatically.

“Well that’s just rude,” You huff in response just as you spot your best friend and instantly perk up, “Ky! Guess what, we’re together for media duties!”

“What, seriously? Yes!” Kyra exclaims, letting out a cheer and definitely buzzing about the news.

“This is bad, so very bad,” Lia mutters to herself, shaking her head in disagreement.

You roll your eyes, exasperated, “Nah, nah, this is a great day!” You insist, “It’s gonna be wonderful. It’s like Christmas morning!”

Steph snorts, clearly amused, “If this is how excited you get for Christmas, you’ve got serious issues.”

You shrug casually, zero shame on your face, “Yeah, I know. I come with a lot of trauma,” You pause for a split second, “Dead dad, mum that abandoned me, blah blah blah,” You wave a hand like it’s not a big deal, “Need I go on?”

“Leah!?” Kattie furrows her brow in concern, “There’s something with your kid,” She glances around to look for the blonde, “I think she’s broken!” She jokes, dramatically.

“Oh no, she’s not broken,” Leah laughs in amusement, slinging her arm around your shoulder, “She’s just… Well, she’s Monkey.” She explains, shrugging her shoulders.

“See? I’m just– Hey, that was still an insult, Malfoy!” You grumble in protest.

“Monkey, we’ve already been over this,” Leah groans in annoyance, “Will you stop callin’ me that?”

“Nope,” You can’t help but smirk, “As long as you still continue to get wound up over it, definitely not.”

“Give me strength,” Leah mutters, rubbing her temples, “What’re you so happy about?” She wonders, noticing the cheshire grin on your face.

“Me and Ky are paired together for media,” You fill her in with a grin plastered on your face.

Leah can’t help but snort and shake her head, “That’s a joke, right?”

“That’s what I said!” Steph exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “Someone must’ve made  a mistake, right?”

“No, no, no,” Leah shakes her head promptly, “You two are… You’re trouble together, look what happened in America!”

“I think you’re overreacting slightly there Le,” You insist, rolling your eyes.

“Am I? Cos’ I think the fractured ankle really speaks for itself,” Leah deadpans.

“Urgh,” You groan dramatically, tilting your head back at the painful memory, “It’s bad enough I have this stupid cast, you don’t need to mention it as well.”

“Wait, does Kimmy still have your skateboard held hostage?” Kyra wonders, curiously as she wraps her free around your shoulder.

“Yeah she does,” The pout currently plastered on your face really just spoke for itself, “Le’s being the captain of the fun police and not allowing me to have any fun.” You mutter.

Leah clicks her tongue and shakes her head, “And risk breaking your neck as well? Yeah, not a single chance am I taking that risk– It stays at Kim’s out of the way since we can’t exactly send it back now.”

“But what fun is it if it just stays in the cupboard?” You don’t relent from this conversation as you huff dramatically, “How about…”

“How about we don’t revisit this conversation and forget about the skateboard instead, yeah?” The blonde cuts in with a knowing look.

“Monkey? Kyra?” One of the media team waves over to you both to get your attention, “We need you both.”

“We’re needed already?” Kyra furrows her eyebrows and shrugs her shoulders, “Lets’ go!”

Your eyes light up in glee, “Fantastic, be right there,” Before looking back at the huddle of older girls, “It’s showtime!”

“Don’t be a brat and get in any trouble–” Leah begins to say.

“I’m sorry all I heard then was blah blah blah,” You interject with a mischievous smile on her face, “Come on Ky, let’s go and find out what we’ve gotta do!” With that, you quite literally pull Kyra in the direction of where you need to go.

Katie chuckles lowly at the blondes’ facial expression, “You’ve got your hands full with that one, ain’t you, Le?”

“Don’t even go there,” Leah huffs and shakes her head in response, “That girl sometimes, honestly she’s so bloody cheeky, but I do love her dearly.”

“Hi, I’m Kyra!” Your Australian counterpart jumps in first to speak, introducing herself.

“And I’m Monkey– “ You start but get cut off with the cameraman giving you a knowing look, “What? Seriously, I have to answer my actual name? Oh for *bleep* sake!”

“Monkey!” You hear Leah scold from the other side of the room, which you’re honestly shocked how she managed to hear that so far away.

“Sorry, sorry, anyways…” You quietly mumble your name begrudgingly in front of the camera that’s rolling, “I can’t believe you guys just made me say that aloud. I hate you all.”

The cameraman chuckles from the other side, “Continue.”

You huff and dramatically fold your arms, “Alright, well yeah, we’re gonna play ‘How Well Do You Know Each Other?” You pause for a brief second, “This should be interesting.”

“Puts our ‘best friend’ knowledge to the test,” Kyra adds in, grinning teasingly.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes in response as you look at the cameraman, “How do we do this then?”

“One of you will read the cards aloud and answer, while the other sits further back with headphones listening to music,” The cameraman explains, motioning to the large bulky headphones on the table in front.

“Better be good music,” You remark in a cheeky tone of voice.

“Do you wanna go first?” Kyra asks, glancing at you.

“Yeah, sure why not… How hard could it be?” You smirk as you grab the cards in front of you, “Pft, easy, bring it on!”

With that, the camera stops filming for a second before it begins again with Kyra sitting on a chair a few feet away from you while you’re sitting on the chair in front.

“You good?” You question, Kyra responds with a thumbs up when she can’t hear anything and you giggle, “I could say so much right now…” You say, as Kyra continues to look cluelessly at you.

The cameraman chuckles, “Let’s get to the questions.”

You pick up the first card, “Where is Kyra from?” You read the question aloud and ponder thinking for a few seconds, “Australia, well Queensland to be more specific– Yeah I’m sure it is there!”

You switch out the card and scan your eyes over it,  “When is Kyra’s birthday?” You continue to read the next question aloud, “Easy, 15th February, 2002– You know you guys should really make these more easier for me,” You joke, grinning teasingly as you look directly at the camera.

Tossing the card aside, you flip to the third and final one, “When did Kyra make her debut for Arsenal?” You read the final one aloud, “Oo, this ones’ even better! It was last October, the first game of the season, which we unfortunately lost, but I was there,” You pause after giving your answer with full confidence, “I’m surprised I remember, cos’ I was sick, but yeah… her first debut was then!”

The cameraman chuckles, “That’s three for Kyra done,” He declares, turning the camera off and gesturing Kyra back to sit beside you, “Right, now we’ll film it so it’s Kyra reacting to your answers before switching roles. Sound good, girls?”

You wave dismissively, “Yup, no worries!”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Kyra adds, planting herself down in the empty seat, as she camera starts rolling again, “How’d you do?”

“The questions were so easy,” You joke, cockily, “Kinda wish I had more of a challenge.”

“You seem overconfident right now,” Kyra smirks, taking a glance at the questions, “Alright, first question, where am I from?”

“Queensland, and now I think… Why am I doubting myself?” You frown, taking a minute to wonder if you have got it right.

Kyra laughs, “That is where I’m from!”

“Phew, first one correct,” You wipe your forehead dramatically.

“Next one– When’s my birthday?” Kyra repeats the question aloud you’ve just answered, “You should definitely know this one, if not then… Well, I don’t think we can be friends.” She jokes.

You pretend to think about it for a second, “Yeah I’m positive I know this one cos’ we celebrated it,” You give pause for the dramatic effect, “15th February, 2002. The day after Valentine's Day. Bleugh– Shit, I’m gonna be kicking myself if it’s wrong now.”

“Monkey,” The cameraman interjects from behind, shaking his head.

You feign innocence and give him a sheepish smile, “Sorry.”

Kyra snickers at the fact you have no filter sometimes, “Nice, yeah, that’s right!” She exclaims, “You’re doing so well… You know me so well!” She retorts, playfully.

“Well I’d hope so since I’m your best friend,” You respond with an eye roll.

“Final question,” Kyra speaks up as she gazes at the last question, “Tough one– When did I make my Arsenal debut?”

“First game of the season against Liverpool,” You answer way too confidently and immediately pray it’s correct, “Right? I hope so, I was on me deathbed for that game!”

“Nailed it,” Kyra confirms, grinning.

“Yay, go me!” You fist pump the air as you do a little wiggle in celebration and the camera’s stop filming, “So, now we swap?” You clarify with the cameraman.

“Yep, that’s right,” The cameraman chimes in.

Nodding in agreement, the camera cuts while you switch positions so you’re the one stuck with the headphones, and at least the music isn’t too bad.

You can’t hear a single word that’s being said, but you’re just content to listen to the music, singing the song in your head as you do a little shimmy in your seat.

It’s times like this where you wish you could lip-read, it’s not the easiest thing to do though and your attention span wouldn’t last that long sometimes before giving up.

You can’t help but let your thoughts wander away at this current time, “Maybe I can buy more lego soon? I need to add to my collection– You can never have too much lego!”

At last, you're given the gesture of a thumbs up before removing the headphones and get up to sit on a closer chair with the slight difficulty of the boot currently on your foot.

“Was that easy for you?” You joke with your best friend.

“Piece of cake mate,” Kyra grins in response.

You pick up the cards and read over the first one, “First question, what is my favourite drink?” You read aloud, smirking as you know she definitely does know this answer.

“Energy drinks, duh? You love them!” Kyra answers with a knowing smile.

You beam a wide smile and nod, “I do, even if I’m not technically allowed them anymore— Mean Malfoy!” You joke, looking directly at the camera and scowling.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Kyra jokes with a wink.

“Exactly,” You retort with a playful grin, “Alright, next question then– You should definitely know this, and if you don’t then, well, we need to rethink our friendship.” You tell her, jokingly.

“Our friendship’s on the line over this?” Kyra clutches her hand over her heart and faux’s her shock, “Well then I guess I’d better get it right. You adore both Shrek and anything Marvel related of course, and if it’s anything else then I’m not having it.”

“Ding, ding, ding, correct!” You grin, “I have watched them way too many times to count, but who cares?”

“I knew it!” Kyra exclaims, “Phew, our friendship still remains intact.” She jokes with you.

“For now, just as long as you answer the final question correctly,” You continue to wind her up, leaning in dramatically, “When did I join Arsenal?”

Kyra bites her bottom lip in hesitation, “See, this one was hard to remember, so I guessed and went with age 9, so I know you’ve been at the academy before signing the senior team...”

You shook her head in disagreement, “Want a clue?” You joke, amusedly, “Leah’s known me ever since I joined, and that was…” You pretend to count on your fingers, “11 years ago.”

“Oh!” Kyra’s eyes light up in realisation, “So, you were 8 then? I was so close!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air, “You’ve known her for 11 years? That’s wild! How’s she put up with you for that long?”

“Yeah, I know it’s– Hey, that’s cruel!” The realisation hits finally and you gasp, “Speak for yourself, you’re the Aussie pest.”

“Yeah, and you’re the British Menace,” Kyra jokes, grinning at you.

“Right that does it, this friendship is… it’s under discussion,” You shake your head dramatically, continuing to play up for the camera in front of you, “Two out of three, I suppose it’s not that bad,”

“I’ll take it!” Kyra shrugs her shoulders, “The last one really threw me off!”

You grin and wrap your free arm around her, “Awh, don’t worry. We’re still besties!” You exclaim, before attempting to wrestle her down to the floor as the older girls in the background catch wind of your antics, just as the camera stops rolling.

“Lessi is definitely the clumsy one in the team - she falls over all the time. I know that says a lot, considering I'm currently in a boot,” You say with a gleam in your eyes as a memory lights up, “Oh, oh! We have to tell them about, you know, what happened at training the other day!” You grin mischievously, already knowing the chaos you’re about to stir.

Kyra looks at you, clueless, “What happened at training?”

You snort, shaking your head in disbelief, “You don’t remember?”

“No, should I?” Kyra questions, further confused.

“Of course, yeah! About Malfoy,” You retort, a cheeky grin plastered on your face.

“Monkey, don’t you dare,” Leah warns, shooting her a look.

“I dare,” You smirk in satisfaction as you see the daunting look on Leah’s face, “You see…”

Her eyes narrow, and you can see the tension building in her jaw. Right as you're about to spill the story, Leah storms over and claps her hand over your mouth, cutting off your words so all that comes out are muffled noises, “Monkey, don’t push it,” The blonde warns in a firm tone of voice.

You roll your eyes dramatically, wiping at your mouth for emphasis, “I was just gonna get the fun bit as well, ” You shrug with an exaggerated innocence, using the advantage of your crutches  to try and keep her at bay so you can continue to yap like you wanted to do, “Anyways before I was so rudely interrupted about what I wanted to say… Oh yeah, Leah completely fell over the other day and it was hilarious to watch!”

“You’re such a menace sometimes,” Leah mutters in disbelief while shooting you a playful scowl.

“Yeah, but you still love me regardless,” You flash her an innocent smile, waving your crutch around in the air, “Come on, it’s okay to admit it that you do.” You add.

Leah arches her eyebrow in response, “It’s questionable sometimes when you come out with things like you do.”

However due to your own clumsiness you end up falling over in the process which causes Leah to instantly drop her annoyed act and immediately becomes concerned instead. 

“Oh my God,” Leah’s eyes widen as she watches you fall to the floor and rushes to help you back onto your feet, “Are you okay?” She questions.

“Ow, shit, that bloody hurt,” You grumble your profound language and completely forget that there’s still a camera rolling so that’s something the media team will have to work on editing out again, “Clearly I’m not stable on my feet, like I thought I was.” You continue to grumble, accepting Leah’s hand to help you up off the floor as you hiss in slight pain.

Leah tuts and shakes her head, her previous annoyance completely forgotten about now, “You really do need to be more careful,” She chides in a gentle tone of voice, “Or you’re going to make things worse for yourself my girl.”

“Yeah,  yeah I know, you don’t need to remind me,” You huff in response and use your crutches to balance your support to save you falling on the floor again, “I’m already stuck on these crutches for what feels like the foreseeable.”

“Exactly, that’s more of a reason to be careful little miss clumsy,” Leah retorts, once she’s made sure you’re okay before she takes the chance to rip into you a bit for your usual clumsiness.

Rolling your eyes in response, “Speak for yourself when you’re the one that fell over at training the other day.” You chip in again as she flash her a cheeky smile.

“Menace,” Leah murmurs now rolling her own eyes.

It’s only now that you realise the whole interaction has been filmed, “Wait… Was the camera still filming, like all of that?” You question.

“Yep,” A member of the media team responds in agreement.

“Urgh,” You let out an exasperated groan and shove your head in your hands, “Great, everyones’ gonna see my clumsiness. Fuck sakes.”

“Monkey,” Leah chides, shooting you a stern look, “Language.”

“English,” You reply while trying to feign your innocence, “Right, shit yeah, no swearing in front of the cameras. Noted…”

“Monkey, you did it again,” Kyra snickers in amusement.

Smiling in realisation, you look at the media time guiltily, “Whoops. I did it again, didn’t I? My bad.” You apologise to them, scratching the back of your head awkwardly, “I guess you guys’ are gonna have a fair bit to edit, eh? Well at least we keep things lively around here!”

© scribblesofagoonerr

[senmiyaazx]

12 months and 365 days

Crowe x GN!Reader

context: memories of your first year spent in loneliness, and memories of your second year spent with crowe. (aka how you met crowe)

cw: a little self indulgent. mentions of bullying. self deprecating and social anxiety.

word count: 1673

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

It's your first day.

You're very nervous.

Of course, you finished high school before. But college was different.

And you didn't have anyone you knew here.

It's okay. You reassure yourself. You just gotta save up enough money to pay the debt, make a few friends and graduate. It's easy enough, right?

It's... your third day.

You haven't talked to anyone yet.

It's alright. It's only your third day.

You'll be fine.

Besides, there's this cool person you've been sneaking glances at lately. Hopefully you'll build up enough courage to talk to them!

Something gnaws at your nerves.

It's been two weeks.

Two weeks since you came to this city.

Two weeks spent alone at a table in a busy cafeteria. Two weeks of sitting in the corner of the classroom as if you don't exist.

It'll be fine. You can get by with no friends. You just have to pay the debt, and you'll be back home like nothing ever happened.

It's fine.

Three weeks.

You're paired up with someone for a group project.

They're nice. Really nice.

You found out you share a lot of common interests.

They ask to be friends. You accept.

You're really happy.

1 month.

Oh.

They've forgotten about you.

It's okay. You expected it so it didn't hurt much.

It seems they already had an existing friendgroup before you.

It's not your place to be upset. You were strangers after all.

It's okay. Just focus on your job. You'll be home soon.

Five months.

Why don't they ask you for a pen? You're right here.

You have complete school supplies. You always take notes in class.

The person in front of you asks your seatmate for a paper. They don't have one.

You did.

Why don't they ask you?

Why don't you talk to them?

You can't. Because you're too anxious. Scared.

Fear of getting judged.

It's frustrating.

College isn't so fun when you're doing it to save your only home. When you have no friends.

Seven months.

You've gotten used to it.

Sure, you can talk to your group mates just fine. Act friendly and all that stuff. But it never lasted long. Nothing ever did.

It's nothing too concerning now. You accepted the fact you were too much of a coward to just talk and reach out to someone. You're an outcast, and it'll stay that way forever.

Even if your inner self begged to be able to rant about your interests, your hobbies, your troubles.

Two more years of this hell.

Before you knew it, you're in your second year.

First day.

Nothing unusual. You're still alone.

It's boring.

Four more hours till you go home.

Second day.

There's this guy who introduced himself to you.

He seems friendly.

He told you his name, but you forgot. Oh well, it's not important.

Not like you two will be close anyway.

One week.

He keeps talking to you.

You learned his name now. Crowe.

You weren't exactly a jerk either, and it was rude to show your obvious disinterest in someone, so you tried your best to put on a smile as you listened to him.

It's awkward. He's aware of the tension in the air.

You feel bad, but it's okay. Give it a week and he'll move on.

Three weeks.

He. Won't. Leave. You. Alone.

What's wrong with this guy? He keeps acting all buddy with you.

You don't know him. He doesn't know you.

It annoys you how he acts like he does. How friendly he is with you.

You're sure he has some sort of ulterior motive.

Ah, whatever. It's not good to assume. At least you have someone sitting with you at lunch. Even if you're a little irritated.

Four weeks.

You volunteered to be a helper at the school gardens. It's good. Extra credits and a place for you to hang out. Alone.

Now you no longer have to be in the cafeteria.

Five weeks.

He found out about the garden. Keeps pestering you about it.

"Can I join? Can I help? I wanna see! Let's eat lunch there together!" He says.

It's.. so annoying. But you felt bad for him, so you accepted. Grudgingly.

Now you have someone pestering you in your comfort spot. Great.

He tells you he didn't expect you to be interested in gardening. You told him you lived on a farm. He's curious, but you refuse to tell more.

It'll be a waste of time if he'll forget about you in the end anyways.

Two months.

He's still there. He's weirdly persistent on being your friend.

You're starting to doubt yourself now. Had you judged him too much?

Still, it's hard to act friendly now when you've spent an entire year being ignored by everyone on the campus despite your attempts to communicate.

He doesn't seem to mind. You feel weird.

For once, you allow yourself to soften a little around him.

Three months.

It's been a terrible week. Burnout has caught up to you. You're in an incredibly tight budget and you're nowhere near halfway to your debt.

Is there really hope for you? Your father?

Right. You're doing this for dad. The farm.

You can't give up now that you've come so far, yet...

The frustration and stress is too much. He noticed this, of course. He's always so observant when it came to you. Noticing all the little changes and details that nobody else did. Not that anyone else paid much mind to you in the first place.

Still. It's weird. It makes you feel overwhelmed and a little overstimulated.

And it's because of the stress, you think. It's the stress and anxiety that you've been bottling up for years— and ended up lashing out on him.

He's hurt. You know it. You feel incredibly guilty.

You fucked up, didn't you? You always did. Now you lost the only person who actually liked you.

It's all your fault.

Three months and two weeks.

You haven't talked to him since then, despite his attempts to reach you.

You're the first to leave when the bell rings. You lock yourself up in the garden when it's lunchbreak. You dash out the school gates when it's time to go home.

You've seen the way he looks at you. Worry and pain plastered all over his face. It makes your stomach twist. You're guilty. You're aware of how much of a jerk you're being.

But you have no choice. After all, you were born to be lonely.

I'm sorry, Crowe.

Six months.

It's been so long. You're sure he's forgotten about you. Like you expected. It hurts, yet you ignore the pain.

One day, however, you're cornered.

You've always been an outcast. One that's genuinely forgotten by everyone.

Unlucky as you were, you never had to experience bullies in your life.

And now..

One of them pushes your bruised body to the ground. You shake. They laugh at you. Fuck people and their greed for superiority.

You hate it. Hate this. Hate yourself. Why can't you just get up and fight back? Are you really going to let them step over you like this when you're already miserable enough?

C'mon. Get up. Stand up!

Someone yells from a distance. That voice, all too familiar. One that makes your heart drop.

"Crowe?"

It all becomes a blur. You're on the ground, frozen in fear as you watched Crowe take the hits for you. Defending you as if you've known each other for years.

Why? Why would he do this? You don't understand. You don't understand him.

It's so damn annoying.

Slowly, you stand up. There's a rock nearby. You grab it.

And throw it against the bastard's head as hard as you can.

He passes out. His other goons turn around to face you with a murderous glare, and you tremble as they approach.

"One more step and I'll scream so loud everyone will think you're a serial killer." It's a stupid threat. You have no guarantee it'll work.

To your luck, it does. They turn away with a 'tsk' as they pick their friend up. It seems they don't want to cause any more trouble than they already did. Hypocrites.

You immediately turn to face Crowe with a harsh glare, striding towards him despite the pain in your body.

You grab him by the collar, bringing him close to your face as you yelled, confusion and pain evident in your voice. Desperation. "Are you stupid? Why the hell did you do that?! There's literally no reason for you to defend me, so why?!" You shake him back and forth. You shouldn't be doing this. Shouldn't be angry at him when he helped you.

You're just.. so damn lost.

He doesn't mind the way you take your anger out on him when he should. He should be annoyed with you. He should be as mad as you for getting angry when he's the one who helped you.

Instead, he laughs. He fucking laughs.

"Because you're my friend!" He grins stupidly, and you have half a mind to punch him the way those bullies did.

You don't. Instead, you let him go as you felt warmth rush to your cheeks and all over your body. Till your heart aches and leaves a stinging pain in your chest. Till the tips of your fingers tingle and leave your palms sweaty. Till your knees feel weak and you sit down on the ground with your head held in your hands.

"You're.. so annoying, you know that? You're fucking insane." Your voice was shaky. Yet you couldn't help the smile that crept up to your lips.

He stayed. He didn't forget about you.

You have a friend. His name is Jericho Ichabod.

Three years — present.

You're in the greenhouse. Brittney and the others are somewhere in the garden, doing their own thing. You're glad they're enjoying this little space of yours.

Crowe's saying something about flowers. You don't listen much, simply staring at him as you nod and smile.

You have a crush. His name is Jericho Ichabod.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

a/n: i've had this on my mind since the update. unfortunately I don't have any ideas for a sol fic yet:(

[leclarifies]

i wish you would love me (CS55)

✰ carlos sainz x verstappen!reader ✰

summary → he would do anything to get you to love him, but he can only watch from the sidelines as you fall in love with his teammate.

genre → angst angst angst (im not sorry), self-indulgent, drabble

word count → 1.5k words

author's note → hello! this is my first iteration of breaking your heart with carlos sainz!!!!!! this is also my first time writing him so i'm sorry if things are a lil ooc, i haven't followed him as much as i do with CL16 & MV33.

carlos had always stole glances, whether he liked to admit it or not. some were lingering, but most of them were fast, quick, not wanting to linger long in case someone would catch him staring, he had grown fond of you.

you were the princess of the paddock, that was your title. some might even say that you're the queen of the paddock but you always denied the nickname, it was a silly nickname that your fans had given you and you didn't particularly feel like claiming it.

but carlos knew that you were indeed a princess, maybe the queen of his heart. he knew that with each second passing, he would slowly fall in love with you, maybe he already was. maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself, much like the glances he stole.

you were the three time world champion's little sister and that meant that automatically by default, carlos was around you a lot. whether it was max's karting days and you attended his races, or him being on the formula one grid and you attending those races.

it didn't matter to carlos.

you were always nice to him, always smiling, always touchy but it didn't matter as you were touchy with everyone and that made carlos want to die on the inside.

why did you have to touch everyone so casually? why did you have to touch him and why did he feel like he was on top of the world when you did?

"carlos?" you soft voice had broken him out of his train of thought, he looks up to see you. your beautiful self standing in front of him, almost gracing him with your presence, "are you okay? you seem out of it."

"yeah, i'm alright. how are you doing, hermosa?" carlos' heart would not stop beating out of his chest, being in close proximity of you made his heart beat that way. you giggle and wave your hands in front of you, almost as if you were rejecting the small compliment that he gave you.

he found it cute, that you would always reject his compliments that way, whether intentional or not.

you scrunched your face up and rolled your eyes playfully, "you always flatter me with your nicknames, carlos," you giggled further and he stood up from where he was leaning against the wall, "i was going to ask you if you were coming to dinner tonight? you know, the ferrari one?"

carlos raised his eyebrow, how would you know about the ferrari dinner?

"yeah, of course. i am a ferrari driver afterall, aren't i?" carlos teased before you smile and laugh, carlos felt like his heart was going to fall out of his chest by how fast it was beating. you were near him and willing to talk to him, even though it was as simple as asking about a stupid dinner.

"yeah, i was wondering whether you'd come or not. charles invited me to the dinner just last night," your eye-smiles shone bright, even when you didn't mean them to. a pang strikes through carlos' chest, what do you mean by charles invited you?

"charles invited you? since when were you close to charles?" carlos asked, his eyebrow raised again as you were shifting feet to feet, carlos could tell that you were nervous by the question he asked, but you decided to come out clean anyway.

"me and charles have been... seeing eachother so i've been getting invited around ferrari events a lot."

maybe that was the day carlos' heart broke.

seeing you around his side of the paddock was nice, the way you smiled, the way you cheered the team on, it was exciting for carlos. he would be able to see you more often now, ever since you published your relationship with charles.

maybe he should've expected it. maybe he didn't notice it.

while he was stealing glances at you, you were stealing glances at his teammate and that stung like a little bitch.

you were always all smiles, always lovely, always polite, always touchy, and somehow he hated it. he hated the way you touched him— hated the way you touched charles.

your arms wrapped around charles' neck, holding him close as the two of you were captured kissing as charles took his win, he came second. always second best. never good enough. never good enough to win you over. never fast enough to see the signs.

he wanted you to come over to him, run up and kiss him the exact way you kissed charles, why did it have to be his teammate out of all people? why the one person that he constantly had to spend time with, whether willingly or unwillingly?

the love he had for his teammate was slowly becoming resent, becoming something he would never feel for his teammate naturally.

it sucked.

"carlos—"

"not now cha," carlos had brushed him off as he packed up his belongings from the garage, all he wanted to do was get home and sit with himself and his feelings.

"but it's important—"

"i said not now," carlos' tone was delivered with finality, which made charles stop in his tracks, not speaking another word. he was scared to, scared that he would piss off carlos more than he was right now.

what hurt the most for carlos was that he had talked about you to him multiple times, his eyes always animated when he talked about you and charles knew, he knew how much you meant to carlos but charles didn't catch on or maybe he didn't care.

"did i do something wrong?" charles asked, he was behind carlos and his shoulder tensed up when charles asked him the stupid question, carlos felt like he wanted to punch something at the moment and right now, preferably the handsome leclerc that stood behind him.

of course he did something wrong, he stole the love of carlos' life and carlos hated him for it. why did he have to do it? why did he have to take away something that made him happy? wasn't him getting kicked out of ferrari enough for charles?

why did everything have to go his way?

"it's nothing, i'm just upset about my performance today, that's all," carlos turned around to look at charles, he was starting to realize that it wasn't charles' fault. charles did nothing wrong.

the universe just hated him.

carlos had to sit in those painful dinners with ferrari, if it wasn't mandatory for him to come, he would've never showed up in the first place. he hated having to sit there and play nice, to sit there and watch you whisper into charles' ear and when he would whisper something back in your ear and then you would giggle, to sit there and to watch the love of his life slip away from his fingers.

he knew that you never held the same type of feelings that he harbored towards you, you would always be nice and polite but that was it, and maybe he took it the wrong way. it didn't matter to him now, all that mattered was you stole his heart and there was no way you were going to give it back.

with the months watching painfully from the sidelines, watching you fall in love with his teammate, you had an announcement to make tonight.

"hello everyone! thank you for coming to tonight's dinner," you had started, you looked beautiful tonight. afterall, you would always be his hermosa in his heart, "i just wanted to announce me and charles' engagement!"

charles stood up alongside with you and smiled, wrapping an arm that carlos wished were his, holding you close with a kiss on your temple.

claps erupted around the table and carlos was the only one not clapping along with the crowd.

if it wasn't possible before, carlos' heart broke for the second time tonight.

if it wasn't bad enough that charles picked carlos to be his bestman, it was the worst when he had to stand there and watch you be led along the aisle, arm hooked with jos verstappen and walking towards charles.

and yet again, he was watching from the sidelines. never the main character in your story, but always a secondary or maybe a step-in.

your smile was so bright, you looked so happy.

he wished you looked at him the same way you looked at charles.

as you finished your vows, tears escaped from carlos' eyes, not because he was happy for his teammate, not because he was happy for you but because he was upset that it wasn't him that you were marrying today. he couldn't bare to stay and watch any further after the vows, choosing to step out of the cathedral that you were getting married to charles at.

carlos was not the same man that he was before he stepped into that cathedral that day, and maybe it was for the worst.

[atopvisenyashill]

WHERE HAVE ALL THE STARK WIVES GONE AND WHERE ARE ALL THE COZ'S

aka i made the stark family tree from torrhen, the king who knelt all the way to the starklings & filled in some gaps too just for funsies. behold my magnum opus because i am a visual learner. some notes on the tree:

at the start of the tree, you’ll notice some lines are purple. those are not technically canon relations - we know those people existed but we aren’t told how they’re related or who their wives were. similar to my dornish timeline, i filled in a few gaps here based on the information we have to go off, some leaps in logic when it comes to the politics of the time, and some math.

similarly, you’ll notice some names in {brackets}. those are characters that we know exist but we don’t know their name (ie, we know alaric had two sons, we don’t know their names). i picked their names from other stark names.

the kids aren’t always in age order. i couldn’t get the graphic to line up in places bc of the cousin marriages and still keep everyone in age order, so i just gave up aksjd.

all the ones with the book sigil were Lords of Winterfell. all the ones with the show sigil were just born into the stark house.

alright now we got some explaining & rambling below the cut

george give the wives names. george at least give them a house. george pls you don't have to give her a personality just give her a freaking name george.

anyways!!! first things first, let's go into the names and houses i invented for everyone, starting from Torrhen's wife on the left and moving to the right:

Lady Manderly, the last Queen in the North - i think given the Manderlys are the #2 house, it was thematically fitting that the last Queen in the North was a Manderly! I also think it would make sense, given how common Iron Islander raiding was in this time, that Torrhen would want to strengthen his alliance with the house that owns his fleet. We also know the North’s fleet was pretty damn impressive at this time - Aegon uses them to fight several times after Visenya destroys the Vale’s fleet during the conquest.

Lady Dustin, wife to Brandon the Boisterous - Torrhen’s sons hate the Iron Throne and they’re all really pissed at the Stark Maiden-Ronnel Arryn marriage, so I figured Torrhen’s sons would want very fierce, very Northern wives (no offense to the Manderlys). Given Barrowton is one of the only true cities in the North, I thought marrying a family familiar with travelers, maybe a richer house even, might be seen as a benefit to staying strong against the Iron Throne.

Lady Flint, wife to Brandon the Boastful - Similar to Lady Dustin, I thought a strong Northern match would be what the sons of Torrhen would continue to go for. The Flints of Widow's Watch are considered the most powerful of the Flint houses so I thought that made a good match.

Lady Norrey, wife to Edwyn Stark - this one was fun & required some math and analysis. Basically, we know none of Alaric’s sons are married when Alysanne comes to visit, and Alaric is succeeded by his grandson, because both of his sons die before him. It means his grandson could be at the oldest 14 when he inherits. We also have Gyldayn say that some “Stark brothers” looked into seeing if Alysanne giving the New Goft was legal. I thought if Alaric & his sons were so annoyed by this, wouldn’t it make sense to marry into a house near the New Gift, who perhaps will be impacted by the decision and have the knowledge of the area and its history? Since the Norreys are right on the border, I thought that would be a good fit. I also thought it would be a good fit because Cregan married Arra Norrey just a bit later - and one pattern I noticed is that when a family marries into the Stark line once, they tend to remarry each other within a few generations again. They do this with the Blackwoods, the Lockes, AND the Royces - it’s likely the mothers & grandmothers influencing the matches, and I thought it was a fun pattern to repeat.

Lady Reed, wife to Artos Stark - So one thing we know is that Lynara Stark, Cregan's third wife, is not descended from the uncle who attempted to usurp Cregan but from a younger son of Brandon the Boisterous. I also noticed Lynara's son, Brandon, has an affair with a Fenn. The Fenns are sworn to House Reed, so I thought it made sense that this branch of the Starks has perhaps lived in the Neck, and brought a small household with her that included a Fenn or two that her son later has an affair with.

Lady Glover, wife to Ellard Stark - this is another “marry & remarry” match up but there I chose the Glovers also because I noticed the Starks tend to marry into the same few houses over and over again. These are likely their richest vassals and closest allies, so I thought again it would make sense that Ellard would pick a woman from a wealthy or important background as the succession crisis under Jaehaerys starts to kick off (in preparation for a fight, even if it's just a war of words). Since you have Gilliane Glover just a bit down, and I thought that would match up nicely with the "marry and remarry" trend as well.

NOW SOME ANALYSIS

Obviously there's been a lot said about the Sansa-Jonnel and Serena-Edric marriages that I don't really need to repeat at length but - I think the choice to have a Sansa and a Jonnel One-Eye marry is kind of sus, I think the "One-Eye" thing is sus, I think the niece-uncle connection here is kind of sus, and I think the fact that their mother was a Manderly is also sus.

There's also the fact that Serena has several sons and we have no idea what happened to them. That one stands out to me because of the Cregan-Lynara match; as stated above, Lynara is not, as some people assume, the daughter or granddaughter of Arnolf, the uncle that attempted to overthrow Cregan. Her Stark name comes all the way from a younger brother of Brandon the Boisterous. That's quite a few generations back that a Stark line has survived to remarry into the main line and we don't even know if she was an only child or had brothers and sisters. So Brandon's brothers' weren't just mysteriously offed/died out, but just two generations after Lynara, all of Serena's descendants just mysteriously die off? Nah, there's a story here that's hiding. The obvious suspect here is The She-Wolves of Winterfell story with Dunk & Egg. COMMA BUT. It's crazy that there are no Stark cousins in the modern day, no cadet House the way we have the Arryns of Gulltown, the Green Apple Fossoways, the Lannisters of Lannisport, etc., and also equally weird that Lynara's Stark line isn't a named cadet branch.

But let's get into the cadet/cousin branches in the modern day as well - one thing I noticed about the lack of Stark cousins in recent history (ie first and second cousins rather than like, seventh and eighth) is that a lot of them are female line cousins. Catelyn and Robb point this out in the book when Catelyn brings up the Vale Starks in the Templetons, the Royces, and the Waynwoods. I think the fact that Sansa is in direct contact with a host of those same families will come into play; perhaps when she unmasks herself as Sansa, someone will comment on her resemblance to Jocelyn, or maybe that familial connection will prompt a bit more loyalty out of one of Jocelyn's descendants if she has to make a mad dash out of the Vale.

And this is the same with Lyarra; she had a sister, Branda, who married a Rogers, which is a very minor Stormlands house. That stuck out in my head because I think this all really sets up the North to be ruled by Sansa; there are no male cousins or even female line male cousins (shout out Targaryen cousin Robert Baratheon) to step in and say "Well wouldn't you prefer a man as the Stark in Winterfell?" It's just Bran, Rickon, and Jon Snow that could possibly threaten her rule. It seems like she's very set up to echo her predecessor here but instead of Jonnel marrying her to steal her claim, Jon is likely to back up her claim, same as Bran.

And since I'm talking about namesakes here, let's dig into Arya Flint. There's two big associations here for Arya - Brave Danny Flint and the Wandering Wolf, Rodrik Stark. I think it's interesting that he served with the Second Sons, given that Arya is a Second Daughter, rather than the Stormbreakers, which was started by Oscar Tully. The moniker itself, Wandering Wolf, also makes me a bit excited for Arya's future; I've said before but I want Arya to do everything she wants to do and being so closely associated with a "Wandering Wolf" makes me think she will. The Danny Flint connection is also interesting here - there's the fact that Jon Snow, the sibling she's closest to, joins the Night's Watch (and even makes reference to Danny Flint), the fact that Danny dressed as a man and fought with a sword. Similar to the "Wandering" epithet potentially spelling out a happy ending for Arya, I am hopeful she'll have a happier ending than Danny Flint. But I do wonder if perhaps Arya will have some involvement with the Night's Watch, however it exists in the endgame.

Lastly - I'm so curious about Harrold Rogers. Did he help facilitate the friendship between Ned and Robert? Are the Rogers' still kicking around looking Starkish as hell? George where are all the cousins!!

[tethrras]

a soft place to land

vittoria de riva x lucanis dellamorte. 2.7k. fluff, hurt/comfort, flirting. click here to read on ao3.

-

Vittoria is no stranger to loneliness.

It keeps her bed cold and her nights quiet. Sometimes she’s grateful for it and other times the longing for something more, the same longing she’s felt since childhood, threatens to strangle her. But she’s a Crow, and Crows can’t afford connections like that, so she doesn’t complain and instead spends long nights sharpening her blades in silence. Sharpening blades or, when she feels longing’s hands tightening around her neck, sitting in the window of her apartment in the canal district and watching the civilians of the city go about their lives.

“Her” apartment isn’t her apartment at all. It’s an abandoned apartment overlooking the market that no one has lived in for what seems like a decade, if not longer. She found it after one of her first contracts, and it’s the only place in Treviso that she can escape to without feeling the need to look over her shoulder for Viago. On nights she can’t sleep and doesn’t want to think or train, she scales the surface of the tower and settles in the window, letting the heartbeat of Treviso lull her into something that might resemble sleep. Visiting the apartment is what she misses most about home, and after seeing what happened to Minrathous, after hearing about what's happening in the South, she wants to visit it again. Who knows if - who knows when - it’ll be the last time?

She intends to head for the Eluvian with little fanfare - the others don’t need to know about her trip - but when she reaches the bottom of the staircase in the library, she finds Lucanis sitting on a chair with a cup of coffee in his hand and a book open in his lap. He looks up at her as her footsteps slow to a stop.

“De Riva.”

“Dellamorte.”

Vittoria shifts her weight from one foot to the other as a slight smile creases Lucanis’s lips.

“You’re going out.” He appraises her armor with a raised brow. She should’ve cleaned it earlier like she had meant to…

“I am.” Vittoria rests her hand on the hilt of her sword. “But I won’t be gone for long.”

“Where to?”

“Home,” she answers, then, “Treviso. Ever since we got back from Minrathous…”

He glances down at his lap then. “I know.”

She can tell he feels as she does - guilt for what happened to Minrathous, to the Shadow Dragons, to Neve, but gratefulness that the same - or worse - didn’t happen to Treviso. It’s a poor consolation, but consolation at all is priceless in times like this. 

Vittoria clears her throat. “Would you…”

“Would I what?”

“Um. Nothing,” she insists, shaking her head. Of course he wouldn’t want to come with her - he’s clearly in the middle of something. She’s not sure she wants company, either. “Anyway, I won’t be long. If anyone asks for me -”

“Were you going to ask me if I’d like to come with you?”

“... No.”

“Then what were you going to ask?”

She knows very well that Lucanis didn’t know who she was before she rescued him from the Ossuary, despite the two decades that she has spent with the Crows. It continues to surprise her that he understands her better than Viago ever has after only a month or two. No wonder he’s such a good assassin - he’s very good at reading his mark. She clears her throat. “Alright,” she confesses. “I was.”

“I thought so.” He stands up, takes a long sip from his teacup, and then places it down on the saucer. “Let me get my things. I will meet you at the Eluvian.”

He doesn’t leave her waiting long, and they travel home through the Crossroads in companionable silence. Vittoria can’t help but glance over at him from time to time. While he didn’t notice her in the past, she certainly noticed him - she even thought she had been in love with him once, though she’s sure now that she didn’t know what love meant. Or means. But he and Illario had a life that all Crow recruits wanted for themselves, and Vittoria had been one of them. The acclaim. The attention from the Talons. The inherent talent. When she was younger, she thought that having the attention of someone like Lucanis would’ve made her life easier - easier than the attention from Viago, anyway - and she strove for years to get that attention. She grew out of it eventually, and then, of course, he died, and whatever leftover feelings she might have had died with him. But now, the fact that not only is he alive, but that she was the one to save him… Sometimes it doesn’t feel real, and she always catches herself looking at him to make sure he’s really here.

“We’re not going to the Diamond,” she says when the two of them reach the Treviso Eluvian. “If you wanted to check in with Teia and Viago...”

“Hm. Then where are we going?”

“I have a place in the city that I go to. I consider it… well… a home. Of sorts. I wanted to make sure it was still standing, after…”

Lucanis nods. “I understand. But maybe we can check in with Teia and Viago while we’re here…” At Vittoria’s wince, he gives her a smile. “Or not.”

“Thank you.” There is a part of her that loves Viago, however complicated and repressed that part is, but the last thing she needs right now is a lecture.

“Of course. No one understands the desire to avoid Viago as well as I do, believe me.”

She steps through the Eluvian with Lucanis on her heels. 

Most of the Crows are asleep for the night, so the two of them meet no resistance at the Casino, and from there she leads him through the familiar streets in silence. It’s a short walk, though, and soon enough she’s standing at the base of the apartment building and refreshing herself on her usual footholds. She hasn’t been here since before she saved Varric all those months ago, and she would hate to fall to her death from the building that she’s scaled more than any other - in front of Lucanis, no less. To her relief, the tower doesn’t seem to have suffered in the face of the dragon attack. She glances back at her companion, who is staring up at the surface of the building the same way she had been moments ago.

“It’s not as tall as it looks,” she reassures him.

He meets her gaze. “Good thing I have wings.”

Vittoria has been climbing her whole life. As a child, she would spend hours scaling trees until she reached the top and could settle down in the branches with a book or wooden toy that she had stolen from one of her siblings. By the time she was six, she could scale the tallest tree on her family’s farm in one breath. When she first arrived in Antiva, it was the only thing that made her suited to the life of a Crow - everything else, the fighting and the thick skin and the iron stomach, came later. So climbing is second nature to her, and in no time, she’s heaving herself through the window and rolling onto the floor of her apartment. Lucanis follows. They stand up from the ground, dust themselves off, and meet each other’s eyes.

“This is it.” She says it more awkwardly than she’d meant to, and winces at herself. She thought she’d gotten over her infatuation with him - she doesn’t dwell on those old feelings when they’re working together side-by-side, killing Antaam and Venatori and Sentinels - but now that it’s the two of them, alone in an abandoned apartment with no gods or dragons for miles around, that soft spot of her heart feels rubbed raw. She turns away from him. “I’ve been coming here for years,” she says again. “I’m glad to see it’s still standing.”

Lucanis looks around curiously, and Vittoria does, too, to familiarize herself with the apartment again. There’s a bookshelf with a few books in it - books that she bought from the market herself, but can’t remember the contents of now - and a collection of knives sitting on a stool next to a well-worn whetstone. Above the stool is a series of scratches on the wall, each scratch representing one of her successful contracts. There must be more than a hundred scratches, but she’s not sure if he’d consider that a high or low number, so she resists the urge to call attention to it. 

On one side of the room is the window from which she can see the market, and on the wall opposite is the window from which she can see the whole of Treviso spilling over the hills on the horizon, its silver spires sparkling in the moonlight. Lucanis lingers here, standing still for a long moment. When he speaks, it shatters the silence.

“I have never seen Treviso like this.”

“I haven’t seen it like this for a long time.”

She brushes past him and sits on the edge of the window. It’s what she would do if she were alone, after all, and that’s what she had been coming here to do - to be alone, to calm herself and soothe her nerves of steel. Even though she knows she won’t be able to do those things now that he’s here with her, she’s still going to pretend that she can. And it’s easy, because for a long, long moment, neither of them move. It's only when she turns her head to look at him that he sits down on the windowsill across from her, stretching his legs out until his feet are nearly in her lap.

She used to dream of this. Of sitting across from Lucanis, fighting alongside him, of him knowing her name and… knowing even more than that. When she was little, she always imagined what she would tell someone if they asked her about her childhood in Ferelden, and for some reason, sitting across from him, she feels the words leaving her mouth before she can think about it. “When I arrived in Antiva, all I could think about was how different it was from Ferelden. I hated it at first.” But even the word hate doesn’t capture her feelings, because she spent most nights in the year or two after she arrived sobbing in her bed until the other recruits realized that hitting her hard enough could convince her to be quiet. “But I can’t remember what Ferelden looks like anymore. I can’t remember my family. All I know is Antiva, Treviso, Salle. The Crows. Viago. If Ghilan’nain’s dragon had…”

Vittoria glances over at Lucanis. He seems focused on something in the distance, but she notices him shift in his seat and straighten up when she looks for long enough.

“Did you recognize me?” She doesn’t know why she asks him this, but she does. “In the Ossuary?”

Lucanis shakes his head. “I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t think you did.”

“But I wish that I had.” He turns to face her. “I don’t know how I never noticed you before, truthfully.”

��And why is that?”

He smiles again, and she resists the urge to glance back out the window. “You are an impressive woman, Vittoria.” 

“Well.” She clears her throat. She doesn’t know what “impressive” means to him, if it means what she thinks it means or what it should mean or if it means something else, but her face flushes nevertheless. “I’ve worked hard to be.”

At that, his smile sours. “You know… You take very good care of us. Of the team. But I hope you don’t think that we can’t be there for you the way that you - ”

“I didn’t invite you here to give me a motivational speech.”

“Ah. You didn’t invite me at all, remember? I had to tease it out of you.”

Her face flushes even more at the word “tease”. 

“I just mean that… If there is anything I can do for you, any difficulties you might be facing that I don’t know about… please tell me.” He sighs. “I know that I can’t do much, all things considered, but I can try to ease some of the weight off your shoulders if you let me. I have wings, you know. I can take it.”

“Please.” Vittoria waves her hand at him to dismiss the thought. “You keep me fed - that’s enough.”

“Mm.” He crosses his arms over his chest and nods. “And you do eat a lot more than the others, that’s true…”

“Hey!” She kicks his foot. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! It was merely an observation.”

“Watch it, Dellamorte.” She gestures to the open window. “You’d hit the ground before Spite realized what was happening.”

“Please don’t say his name right now. I don’t want him to ruin the moment.”

There it is - another word that might mean something to him but also might mean nothing. She didn’t realize that whatever’s happening between them right now could be considered a moment… but at the same time, she has started to notice that he’s been giving her more attention since she saved him and the Crows from the dragon. He sits beside her at dinner, keeps close to her side in fights and in their travels through the Crossroads… and what had he been doing tonight, sitting in the library of the Lighthouse instead of the kitchen? 

She tells herself that it doesn’t mean anything, though. It can’t mean anything. Vittoria could never live at Lucanis’s side. He’s in line to become First Talon, and his family has been a part of the Crows for hundreds and hundreds of years. No matter how much training she does, no matter what she does, Vittoria won’t ever feel like she belongs to the Crows or like the Crows belong to her. She doesn’t think she’ll ever rid herself of the fear that one wrong move will be the end of it - of her life here, or of her life at all. And she feels the same about Lucanis. If she pushes her luck too far, who can she trust to watch her back the way she trusts him? She needs to focus on finding allies right now. Not a lover.

If he was interested in her at all. Which he isn’t. He can’t be.

“We don’t have to talk, you know,” she tells him, more for her sake than his. If her face flushes any more tonight, she might burst into flames. “We can just sit here and… look out at our city.” 

“Our city.” Lucanis turns away from her and rests his head against the window frame, settling in and looking more at ease than she’s ever seen him. And while watching him in motion is enough to drive her to madness, seeing him at ease might be even worse. Watching his chest rise and fall with long, measured breaths. Watching his eyelashes flutter like he’s trying to keep himself awake. He is a beautiful thing, Lucanis. She’s sure being loved by him would be a beautiful thing, too.

“Before we stop talking, then, let me say one last thing: thank you for saving our city.” His voice is softer than a whisper, so soft that she has to lean in to hear what comes next. “And even though I didn’t know you before, I am glad that I know you now.”

As allies. As friends. As teammates. While she knows that’s all he means, it’s still something. Vittoria smiles at him. “Me too.”

True to his word, Lucanis doesn’t speak again for the rest of the night. Neither does Vittoria. (Neither does Spite.) They watch the sun rise over the mountains surrounding their home and then decide that it’s time to return to the Lighthouse to rest before they see the First Warden. But if things go well, if she somehow figures out a way to stop the gods, then she might bring him back here and tell him all the things that no one has ever thought to ask her about. He might even want to know.

[inthedarkshadows000]

SneakPeak#106.......

From the story I might never write

How dare she. She has been ignoring me and eyeing my husband, Suguru, for the past forty three minutes and twenty two seconds. Yes. I counted. What else was I supposed to do while being ignored.

Suguru and I had decided to finally move out of our current apartment, with the girls, and shift to a bigger place. It was way to cramped for four people and now with both of earning, in jujutsu world, we had gathered more than enough to finish the down payment instantly.

So we contacted a realtor to show us some places according to our requirements. Mind you, the requirements DID NOT include a middle aged lady, with way too many operations on her face and boobs, who flirts with a taken man. Like bruh, I get my man looks like a god but back. The. Fuck. Off!

So here we were, him getting hit on by a plastic lady, with her nose a little too way off and her one boob smaller than the other.

All I want to do is come out and burn the bitch to crisps with my curse energy but no, apparently being jealous wasn't a good enough reason for murder nowadays, pfft, as if. What if my man needs me to save his honour, huh?

Suguru has been holding my hand and trying to include me in the conversation but that bitch had purposely and extremely unsubtly been leaving me out.

If I wasn't fuming right now, his situation would have made me laugh real hard. He seems so uncomfortable and aborable trying to maintain a safe distance from her. I'll protect you my pretty boy, don't you worry.

Now, only if my eyes could shoot lasers, it would have made things really easy. Like, oops my B. However, they still don't. Trust. I tried squinting. This was the cool power I was supposed to get with my curse shit but no! Nothing cool here.

Forget cool powers. Let me at the bitch bare hands and I'll have her in shreds before you can even finish saying laser. Yeah... my inner bitch was NOT happy.

On a second thought though, why waste power when words can harm more. I smirked internally, when I had an idea.

We were currently in the common area near the dining table. Suguru had his one hand on the table while his other hand circled my waist, the plastic lady in front of us. It wasn't a second after my idea, that I saw her hand go right on top of his free hand and squeeze, he pulled his hand back quickly.

Oh no, you don't! That's it!

"Alright, I have a real quick question." I say while moving between them and leaning on the table.

Ru looks relieved, probably to have a barrier in between and the bitch looks annoyed. Like I care.

I put on my most innocent smile and look at him. "Could you please clear a doubt for me, husband?" I emphasised the last word just put of spite.

"Of course love. What is it?" He quirks a brow and moves his hand to tug gently at the ends of my hair, twirling it around his finger.

"I just wanted to clear out if you have an interest, any interest at all, in Miss. -" I turned towards her making sure my hair hit her in the face, "- wait what was your name?"

Before she could answer I turned back, hitting her again with the hair, and pointed towards her, waiving my palm carelessly, and continued, "Anyway. Her "

"No, I don't love. Why would you ask?" He knew exactly why I would ask. The twinkle in his violet eyes and his horrible attempt at hiding his smile said enough. He played along anyway because let's be real, Suguru Geto loved being petty, even more so than me.

"I just wanted to clear out the fact, so she doesn't waste her time as well as ours, with her futile attempts of trying to woo you. Not to mention, I would hate for her to lose such an important deal, now wouldn't I?" I gave her a pointed look and turned back around. Yes, another hair attack!

I purposely put my left hand, which had the engagement ring on it , over his wrist which now shifted to my cheek.

"Of course, we would, love." he bit his inner cheek to keep himself from laughing, yet his shoulders shook with merth. His beautiful lips pulled in a smirk.

After giving a quick kiss to my forehead and the knuckles of my left hand, he pulled me around so that my back was to his front and we faced the bitch. He put his chin on shoulder, his smirk still evident.

The bitch had gone red. Serves her right.

"You sly, little vixen." Suguru whispered in my ear and tugged the lobe gently with his teeth. I just shrugged still maintaining my innocent smile.

"Just trying to save your sexy ass, like always. I'll take the payment in hair wash, so better be ready to finally drop your hair routine, princess."

[quinngefail]

[TAKE TWO. COZ THIS POSTED BEFORE I WAS DONE EDITING IT RHGHHHH]

But uh.

Okay :) Folds hands together :) Steamy thoughts with the Chainshipping ladies :)

Putting a cut, it centers around very passionate making out- so like. Nothing super explicit. But still lmao, just in case ^_^

[Gonna ramble a bit to set this up lol. So uh I was thinking about one morning with the two of them, before Lauren has to leave for the day. She's all dressed, while Addie's still in sleepwear; she's never been a morning person, but still gets up to spend some time with Lauren, and say goodbye and and all that. Then she'll go the fuck back to bed for at least another hour or two LMAO. But anyway they're in the doorway, and Lauren says that she'd like to give Addie a little something before she goes. And Addie assumes this means the little 'thing' they've been doing, where just before they part ways, they'll take turns kissing each other's cheeks. So Addie happily closes her eyes, and turns her head to the side for her kiss. It's then that she feels fingers gently take hold of her chin, and tilt her head back towards Laur.]

"Oh, no, darling... You deserve more than that,"

That hand then trails down to Addie's shirt collar, and begins to pull her towards the closest wall. "Stand right there, and face me." Lauren lightly commands, giving a gesture to the floor. While Addie's heart was already starting to beat out of her chest, she does as she's told with no hesitancy. Lauren never exactly had to tell her twice when it came to these sorts of things, after all.

"Mm," Lauren hums in approval. "Good girl,"

Those words alone sent a surge of arousing chills through Addie. It was her weakness, and of course, Lauren knew it. Giving a satisfied smile at her work, she began to move in closer... And up until now, Addie never thought there could be seduction in something like hanging a cane on a nearby coat hook. But, like with countless things, it was Lauren Gordon who could prove otherwise; acting with a slow, provocative sort of grace, before turning her attention back to her beloved, flustered darling.

Suddenly, she clutched two haphazard handfuls of Addie's t-shirt, and crashed her larger form against her, leaving absolutely no room between them. Addie, now utterly pinned, hardly had time to gasp before her lips have been captured in Lauren's. Between the stiffening of Addie's body, and the tipping of her head, the difference of their heights are null as Lauren continues her passionate barrage of kiss after kiss. It's not long before she's lost course, diverting from Addie's lips to her cheeks, nose, chin, neck... It hardly mattered to either of them, though, as they fell further and further into heavy, heated desire.

Inevitably, though, Lauren has to fully pull away- her reddened face bearing a breathless, proud grin. Addie, on the other hand, has to keep her flushed, disheveled, lipstick-stained self from completely collapsing.

"H... Holy fuck," she breathes out. "P-please, Laurie... More,"

But, as Addie begins to lean in, a finger is pressed to her lips.

"Tonight, dear." Lauren smiles. "I'm afraid I have to leave now. But," she trails off, and lowers herself to Addie's ear. "Just consider this something for you to think about today. Okay...?"

Addie wants to object, as the warmth of Lauren's body parts from hers. She wants to pull her back, wrap her arms around her, and let the time slip away from them. She wants the both of them to just go back to the bedroom, and continue there. She wants to see where arousal will take them this time. She nods, though, with a sigh. "Yeah, alright. Tonight, then."

With a pleased nod in return, Lauren retrieves her cane, gives Addie's cheek one last peck, and the two say their goodbyes for now.

However, once alone, it doesn't take long at all for Addie to realize something. She's been left with a sort of gift, intentional or not. Because while the lipstick washed away, something else remained... The unmistakable smell of Lauren's perfume, tortuously clung to her body.

...Fuck.

[4only1]

Hello, hi. I read your fantastic Gitae fic and was wondering if you could do one where him and reader are business partners and are like considered a deadly duo because they work so well together and because the basically have the same personality but reader is much more sane and mostly tries to keep Gitae's bloodshed clean and not too messy but she overworks herself and is constantly on alert and Giate want to assure that they can both trust each other but reader was betrayed alot because people considered her weak and useless. 💋 thank you for listening to my Ted talk lovieeee

What you know

Gitae Kim X Reader

Masterlist

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

When people heard the names (Y/N) (L/N) and Gitae Kim, they knew there would be trouble. Gitae, a man of strange habits and pure strength, the patricide. (Y/N), a genius who kept the whole drug cartel together, heck, kept Gitae together. Without you, he would be a dysfunctional wreck, not keeping his bloodsheding tendencies together.

You had been waiting in the car since Gitae went to deal with Kwak Jichang, the king- well, soon to be former king of Seoul. As you shuffle papers around in your hand, casually glancing at your phone every now and then, waves of exhaustion hit you. You both had arrived in Korea a few days ago, but when did you last sleep? Someone had to keep the drug cartel running at all hours, and while Gitae was meeting with James Lee and relaxing, it was up to you to do that work. Paperwork really wasn’t Gitae’s thing anyway. Numbers too.

As you kept fighting the feeling of sleep, the car door opened. Gitae entered the car soon after, talking on the phone, most likely to James Lee. Frustration bubbled within you as you noted Gitae's new addition to his look. He didn’t have that much blood on him when he left.

“Seriously”

Is all you manage to get out once Gitae hangs up the phone. Not only did he do the exact opposite of what he told you he was going to do, but he also came back soaked in blood. 

“I thought we talked about being less swing happy with the axe!”

“Not my fault. That Jichang guy was alright, but the police came so I had to deal with them.”

Gitae casually said, blowing out a puff of smoke with his sentence. You click your tongue at his response, before looking back at the papers. A yawn you tried so hard to keep back escapes your lips, drawing Gitae’s attention to you.

“And you have the nerve to scold me in that state. I thought we talked about you not overworking yourself.”

Gitae says, a bit mockingly, turning your own phrasing against you. You look at him, annoyance in your tired eyes. No matter how many times he told you to rest, you just couldn’t. You needed to prove your worth, no matter what personal cost came from it. You weren’t a fighter like Gitae, even the lower members of the gang have you beat in strength. You were the brains, you had to be, you couldn’t let simple exhaustion prevent you from doing the one thing that defined your worth. If things were running smoothly, you weren’t useless. 

You couldn't let a small mistake even become a thought. You feared that if something did happen, big or small, you would be cast aside, replaced with someone else. You couldn't let it happen, not again, you couldn't allow yourself to be thrown away again.

Lost in thought, you don't notice that Gitae has grabbed the papers until you feel them leaving your hand. You turn to him, ready to yell, when his gaze stops you. He didn't have a caring bone in his body, so why did he look at you with those soft eyes? Why did he make it so hard for you to not trust him. In all the time you've known him, he hasn't so much as yelled at you, just playful banter. Even that was enough to put you on edge. Why was he so kind to you but harsh to everybody else?

“Go to sleep.” Is all he says. 

“You can't be serious. I have to finish that work by tonight or-” He quickly cuts you off in a stern tone. But the gentleness is still there.

“Sleep. I refuse to spend another second being scolded by your sleep deprived ass. What's the saying, happy wife, happy life? You’re basically my wife with how you nag me all the time. I prefer if your grouchy ass was rested, so I don't have to deal with your complaints.”

Gitae calmly says before again reaching over and forcing you to lay down across the backseat, your head resting on his leg. You fought to keep your eyes open, but the comfort of Gitae's presence kept you relaxed. You wanted to argue back, but it didn't take long for sleep to consume you.

His large hand rested on the side of your head, stroking your hair. Cigarette smoke filled the air, but that didn't bother you much. You felt comfortable, safe, trusting. Maybe just this time, you can trust someone a little bit more.

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

Always love writing a Gitae request. I need to see more of this man in the story please. Next request comes out next week, spoilers, it's another Shingen request (what do y'all see in that man?)

I didn't properly proof read this one so I hope it sounds fine.

[callme-dickmaster]

Basket Case

Ch. Four - Stalking

summary: creepy mistakes lead to the most unlikely of confrontations with unlikely allies cw: this may be v long, afab! reader, minimal use of y/n, bullying, language, noncon nudes, the jonathan situation, author's note: I hope you're all enjoying this story

Wednesday, November 9th, 1983

Nancy played with the hem of the shirt she borrowed from your old clothes. She was happy you had somewhat forgiven her and you could start to be friends now. "What's this song?" Nancy asked, turning up the radio. You looked at her suspiciously, "You like Iron Maiden?" you asked, glancing at the road.

Nancy shrugged, "I like this one?" she giggled.

You chuckled, "It's Run to the Hills. I-I can give you the tape if you want?" you offered, nervously tapping the steering wheel. You sighed, parking your car in the school parking lot.

"You sure you're alright being seen with me? I mean, what if people laugh?" you asked nervously. Nancy grabbed your hand with a smile, "It's okay. We're friends now. And, hey, you get a free pass to throw whatever kind of mustard...sauce mixture you want at me as paycheck," she giggled.

You smirked and rolled your eyes, clambering out of the car and stretching your ankles in your heavy shoes. Nancy waited for you to walk inside, and you walked into school together, ignoring all the stares. You were walking through the halls, talking to Nancy Wheeler of all people with a smile. You separated with a mutual "see ya!" and you sat through your first classes with a yawn.

You stomped through the halls, trying to ignore Eddie inviting you to his band's next gig and sat next to Jonathan like you did every day. "Bologna again?" he smiled, giving you his sandwich and taking yours.

You huffed and nodded, "She wants me to starve," you grumbled.

Jonathan chuckled, "Maybe she just wants to sneak some protein in your diet," he said. You rolled your eyes, mumbling "whatever" when Mr. Kaminsky waddled into the classroom. After the same excruciatingly boring class the two wandered through the halls to the yearbook red room. You munched on your lunch, Jonathan's hurry to develop the pictures going unnoticed by you.

Nicole Anderson walked into the room, greeting Jonathan with a smile. "Oh, hey..." he mumbled, snatching his pictures and saying a hurried goodbye to you. You stared at the door with a weird look but shrugged and kept eating anyway. Nicole shuffled around the room, trying to develop her own photos.

"Um, y/n?" she said, scratching her nose. You glared up at the redhead, trying to show you didn't want to be disturbed.

"D-did you see what he was doing?" Nicole asked nervously. You shrugged, shaking your head. "Why?" you asked, seeing the uneasy look on the girl's face. Nicole sighed, biting her lip and dropping a photo into the tub of developer.

"They were...weird. Like, they didn't know he was there weird. It looked like Steve Harrington's house. I know he had a party last night, so..." the girl said, swishing the liquid and watching the picture come through.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "I dunno. I never really pay attention to what he's putting up. I don't think he cares enough about Steve to do that though," you said, biting into your snack cake. Nicole frowned, hanging up her photos.

"Debbie cake?" you offered, holding the sponge cake out for the girl. Nicole smiled, taking the snack cake from you. "Well, if you really think it's them and you really think he was taking stalker pictures, I think we should tell them. I-I could tell Steve next period? We're paired up for a project," you shrugged, tossing your lunch bag as the bell rang.

Nicole nodded, gathering her things. "You're not how I though you were..." Nicole said, giving you a crooked smile. "I never am," you said, returning it with a tight-lipped smile of your own and wandered off to Mrs. Click's class. Steve was already there, sitting in his new seat next to your empty chair.

"Hi," you muttered, your voice barely audible over the chatter of the classroom. "Hey! Um, hey, listen...a-about the other day and...and the party. I feel like shit and, I don't know, it just wasn't cool..." Steve stuttered, running a hand through his hair.

You nodded and shrugged, "S'whatever. I'm used to it by now," you mumbled, pulling out your notebook. Steve pursed his lips and sighed, grabbing his notes and setting them out on the table. You both worked quietly on their parts of the project until you decided to speak up.

"Uh, Steve?" you said nervously. He hummed, looking up at you. "I need to tell you something..." you mumbled, picking at your thumb. "What's up?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

You stuttered your way through your explanation, fumbling with your fingers as you unintentionally threw Jonathan under the bus. He had a right to know. They were pictures of him and his friends in his own backyard. Even if you hated his friends, you had to admit it was pretty strange.

"And you didn't know about this?" Steve asked, running a hand through his hair. You shook your head frantically. "No! I didn't even know he was out last night! I was home all night," you exclaimed. Steve nodded with a sigh of relief. "I just needed to make sure. I know he's your friend or whatever..." he trailed off, "Thank you for telling me. How about we all talk to him together?" he offered.

You shrugged, tapping your pencil. Steve moved his desk closer to yours and leaned close, "Please?" he pleaded. You sighed, narrowing your eyes at the boy. "Fine..." you grumbled, snapping your pencil in half as the bell rang. You grabbed your stuff and reluctantly followed Steve outside, showing him to Jonathan's car. "I-it's this one..." you mumbled. Tommy, Carol, and Nicole stalked up the hill as Steve pushed himself up on the trunk. He patted the space beside him, motioning for you to sit beside him. You dropped your bag on the concrete and pulled yourself up onto the car, crossing your legs and dropping your head into your hands.

You felt weird. Sitting with Steve Harrington and his friends like they'd never done anything wrong. Like you were all of a sudden comfortable with each other.

Tommy and Carol ignored you, save for a simple nod of acknowledgement from the boy and Nicole tapped her foot impatiently. She was supposed to be cheering at the game, so you guessed she was anxious to get her uniform on and get ready.

Steve snuck small glances at you beside him, noticing little details he never saw before on you. How dark the circles under your eyes were, the fact your hair was actually brown instead of black like he thought, your chipped nail polish and hands...All distracted him from Jonathan walking up the hill to his car.

"Hey, man..." Steve greeted, hopping off the trunk. You struggled to get back on solid ground behind him, stumbling a bit and grabbing Steve's arm so you didn't face plant onto the ground. "Nicole and y/n were, uh, telling us about your work!" Steve said.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Jonathan mumbled, trying to push through them but Tommy stole his bag before he could get far. The dodgy looks and the way he was panicking over his bag made him seem way more guilty. "Oh, wow, he is totally trembling. He must really have something to hide," Steve said, digging in Jonathan's bag for the photos. They were conveniently on top of everything, and it was just as Nicole said. Pictures of Steve, Nancy, Tommy, and Carol in Steve's backyard swimming and laughing together. Some more shots of the house through the window showed Nancy and Steve talking and one of Nancy taking her shirt off.

"Jonathan..." you whispered, grabbing for a couple of the photos.

"I was looking for my brother..." Jonathan tried, every vein in his body was on fire with guilt and dread. "No, this is called stalking!" Steve said, rolling up his stack of pictures. You handed your stack to Tommy standing next to you and put a hand to your temple in complete stress. You pulled your coat around you tighter and buried your nose in your shoulder.

You didn't know what to think now. You knew Jonathan was a good guy and he would never do anything like this maliciously, but to take these kinds of pictures was way out of line. Blame it on a moment of weakness, you guessed.

"What's going on?" Nancy asked, clutching the strap of her bag as she approached.

"There's the starring lady," Tommy snickered, grinning at the girl.

Nancy furrowed her eyebrows, "What?" she asked, "This creep was spying on us last night...he was probably gonna save this one for later," Carol replied. She passed the topless photo to Nancy, her eyes widening when she fully processed that it was indeed her in the picture. You walked over, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I had no idea...if I knew he was there..." you trailed off, taking the picture from her.

Steve took it and ripped it up along with the rest of the photos. "So...we just have to take away his toy," Steve said, tossing the ripped-up pieces in Jonathan's face.

"No. Please, not the camera!" Jonathan pleaded, trying to grab his things when Tommy stopped him. You shook your head, "Steve, c'mon...I-I don't think-," he interrupted you with a 'wait' finger. "It's okay," Steve said, holding out the camera for him, "Here you go."

Jonathan visibly deflated in relief until Steve let the camera slip from his fingers and smash onto the pavement. It hissed pitifully, earning a wince from you and Nancy. Tommy giggled dumbly, wrapping an arm around Carol as she tossed the rest of the photos at the boy scrambling for the pieces of his camera. You watched them go, turning back to look at your friend. You wanted to say something. Wanted to tell him how stupid it was to do such a thing.

"Hey, Nance! C'mon!" Steve called. Nancy hurriedly picked up the pieces of a picture of Barb and met her boyfriend at the bottom of the hill. "Y/n!" you whirled around; confusion painted all over you. "You coming?" Steve asked, his arm around Nancy.

You stuttered, looking from Jonathan to Nancy and Steve. "Come on, loser! Are you really going to blow your chance?!" Carol rolled her eyes. You pursed your lips and bowed your head. I'm the worst. You thought as you sulked over to the group who was waiting for you. Nancy took your hand and smiled softly.

You followed them inside to the hallway outside the gym, still knowing better than to look Tommy or Carol in the eye. "Lucky you weren't there, huh, weirdo?" Tommy said, nudging you. "Who knows what he would've taken of you?" he added. You shook your head, still trying to defend your friend in your mind. "He probably wouldn't..." you said, a weak smile crossing your lips as you ran to catch up to Nancy.

You decided it was best to stay next to her, actively ignoring Carol's story about how she got detention for mouthing off to Mr. Mundy. Nancy poked your arm and whispered to you slowly. "Can you drive me somewhere?" she asked. You nodded discreetly, digging in your bag for your keys. "Whoa, where you going?" Steve asked as you and Nancy walked away. "Uh- I-I totally forgot. Um..." Nancy trailed off.

"Sleepover. At my place. She left her clothes and stuff at mine last night anyways and we're supposed to get dinner, so..." you filled in, jingling your keys. Steve grabbed his jacket as he stood, scrambling to get you to stay. "The game's about to start!" he tried, "I'm sorry," Nancy sighed, pulling you along with her.

Nancy threw her bag in the car, buckling in with a huff. "Where to?" you asked, starting the car. "Steve's. I think something happened to Barb."

:)

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - one hundred and two | time off

The shooting for Songbird was on hiatus for the next two weeks, and so its actors were trying to fill the time with other things. Jongho and Satbyeol had both visited you the first day of their hiatus to talk about their albums, neither knowing the other was going to be there, and arguing about who would get to monopolize you first. Yunho arrived about 20 minutes into a stare-off between the two, in which the tension in the room was palpable and you could not, for the life of you, understand why. He talked both of them down and the two of you convinced them to email Hongjoong for individual meetings with Crom3r. That finally got them to leave.

Yunho offered his services in keeping his coworkers at bay, by hanging out in the studio while you worked. You felt you could deal with either of them if they showed up again, but it was nice to return to form: you working on music while Yunho went over a script. He would, eventually, have to record another song for his character because of rewrites, but the lyrics had to wait until the rewrites were done. In the meantime, you and the rest of Crom3r produced the instrumentals, and waited.

A few days later the rewrites were finished and the lyrics came to the studio via one of the writers. Yunho arrived soon after and you got to recording his part.

His recording was quick, and afterwards he stuck around and talked with Hongjoong and Maddox about the show and his character. 

Your phone vibrated. You looked at the number, surprised to even see it grace the screen: it was your brother. You excused yourself from the room and went out into the hall. You sighed and answered.

“Hello?”

“T/n, thank god you picked up.”

“Hey, Intak. Why’d you call?”

“Dad’s in the hospital.”

The words hung there for a moment as you tried to figure out what they even meant. Hospital? Dad? He’s there?

“What?”

“He had a heart attack last night.”

“What? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I… you didn’t get a call from mom last night?”

“You know mom would never call me. You’re the kid who did what they wanted you to do, I’m the failure.”

“T/n you’re not--”

“I don’t think that, but I know mom does.”

He sighed. “He’s awake and doing well right now. He has to have a bypass soon; you should come visit him.”

You thought.

“T/n?”

“Are you sure my being there would really help anything?”

He sighed. “You are his child. I think you should be here.”

“You think so, but do he and mom think so?”

“Listen, he’s our dad and you should be here. I’ll talk to mom okay?”

You sighed. “So should I show up anyway?”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to them about it before they get here.”

“But what if they say no by the time I get there? I’m not going all the way out there just to come back.”

“You can stay at my place.”

“You live right near them.”

“I got a new place, on the other side of town.”

That was weird, you thought he loved living next to them. You thought for a moment.

“And we can see each other and at least… catch up? Haven’t you put me off long enough?”

You sighed. “Yeah, fine.”

“Okay. Find a way out here and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Alright.”

“Can you come out tonight? I think dad would appreciate that more.”

“Shit. I need to talk to my boss and I’ll text you.”

“Okay, let me know.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

You hung up the phone and sighed. You were concerned but also, maybe not? There was so much bad blood between you and your family that any other emotion could only be stained by the anger and resentment that colored your childhood and teen years. You weren’t really sure how you felt.

You walked back into the studio. Yunho said something and Hongjoong and Maddox laughed at it. It was all so normal. You held your phone in one hand and the other just hung by your side as you stood still for a few moments, deciding how to say what you needed to say.

“Hongjoong?”

He turned to look at you. “Yeah?” 

“How does ‘time off’ work?”

“Why? Are you planning a vacation?”

“My dad had a heart attack last night and my brother wants me to go see him.”

Hongjoong, Yunho, and Maddox all shared the same expression: mouths opening and their eyebrows ticking up in surprise.

Yunho stood. “Are you okay?” 

“Are you sure you want to go see them?” Maddox asked.

“Let me pull up the PDF about sick leave and time off,” Hongjoong said as he turned back to his computer screen.

You held your hands up to Maddox and Yunho. “Yes, I’m okay. Yes, I’m sure I want to see them. Thank you both for asking.”

You pulled a chair over and sat as Hongjoong looked up the regulations. Yunho pulled his chair over to your other side and sat next to you.

“Do you know how much time off you have?”

“Oh-- I used a bit because of Doyun but I hadn’t even checked since we’ve been so busy lately. I’ll sign in.”

As you pulled your phone back out of your pocket and went to the website for timesheets and payment, you could feel Yunho’s eyes on you. “Yunho,” you said, turning to him.

His eyes explored your face, perhaps looking for the tiniest bit of sadness or despair or anything, so he could spring into action and help you.

“I’m fine.”

He nodded slowly.

You put your hand on his for a moment and tried to reassure him with a smile before going back to what you were doing.

“Umm, I have… a few days of vacation time.”

Hongjoong nodded. “I have a ton that I never use, I think I can give you some days if you need them.”

“I don’t think it’ll take more than a week to visit them.”

“I can give you days too.” Maddox added.

You shook your head. “I don’t think I need all that.”

“But what if you get there and they want you to stick around longer?” Yunho asked.

You looked at him, unimpressed.

“What if your brother wants you to stay longer?”

You sighed as you thought. The fact that Intak was the only member of your family that actually tried to contact over the years you meant that he at least didn’t want you out of his life. He’d even nagged you about not calling more often... You looked at Yunho.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“You don’t need to go with me.”

“How are you getting there?”

“I… I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“What if I drive you there?”

“What? Aren’t you shooting soon?”

He shook his head. “We don’t go back for a week.”

“Don’t you have promotions or something, then?”

“We start shooting again in a week and promotions start again when we’re done.”

You sighed. 

“Let me drive you back. We can see my parents, they’ll be happy to see you again.”

You nodded. Yunho’s mom was like the mom you always wanted, you really wouldn’t mind seeing her again. “Yeah, okay.”

He put his hand on yours reassuringly.

“I know that you said you don’t want them, t/n, but please let Maddox and I give you a week each. It’s the least we can do.” Hongjoong said.

“But I don’t need almost three weeks of vacation,” you laughed.

“Consider it a present.” Maddox smiled. “If seeing your family is that bad, you can take a vacation afterwards.”

You exhaled a laugh. “Yeah, okay… Can I leave now? My brother wanted to know if I’d be able to make it there for tonight.”

“Yeah, we’re done with what we were doing. If the two of you want to go, you can.”

Yunho nodded and looked at you. You stood and put everything in your backpack. Yunho got his coat and then took the backpack from you eliciting a small protest that you let die when he smiled at you.

You turned back to Hongjoong and Maddox. “I guess we’ll see you in a few days, then.” 

“I hope your dad is okay,” Hongjoong said.

Maddox pointed at him. “What he said. I hope he’s okay too.”

You nodded again. “Yeah.”

Yunho opened the door for you and the two of you left.

  previous | main cast | masterlist | next

a/n: Well that was unexpected. I guess she’s going to see her family after about a decade. Fingers crossed 🤞

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🎵 Any comments, reblogs, or asks are appreciated! I love talking with you guys and seeing what you’re saying about the chapters, it keeps me going 🥰

@luvvvx • @iamthehotdemon • @hrts4hanniehae • @rachs-words • @stayatinykatsy • @anythingrelatingtojinyoung​ • @jaytheatiny​ •

[chaisarinawat]

Chai let out a relieved sigh when he saw that Khun Dan was awake, more lucid and aware than he had been last night. Despite being tired himself, Chai's caring nature had him continuing to fuss over Khun Dan, until the man stopped him by gripping his wrist and telling him to sit down.

"Sit down. You don't need to do any of that. I appreciate it but I'm not your responsibility. Just make sure you're feeling alright. I'm not sure if I have something viral… I don't want you to get sick either…"

"Khun, it's fine. I don't feel sick," Chai told his boss, shaking his head. The conversation he had with P'War yesterday floated into his head, about not being able to afford being sick, but he pushed it aside in favour to tending for Khun Dan. He had been alone for so long, and on the occasions where he had gotten sick - shivering and feverish in his little apartment - he yearned for another person to be there to help him. Khun Dan might have someone who is able to provide that for him, back at Bangkok, but not here, in this estate hours away from the city. He only had Chai, who wouldn't let a sick person experience that kind of loneliness.

"Have you even showered?"

"Uh..." Chai glanced down at his outfit, having forgotten that after eating last night he had planned on writing up the notes for the day before showering and heading off to bed. He had only done one of those things. "No... n-not yet Khun, I'll shower now that you're awake, but I couldn't leave you alone last night!" Chai told him, some of his worries returning.

Khun Dan thanked him, but still didn't look 100%. He needed some more time and rest to recover. If Chai knew his boss - which he did, after working directly under him for two months - he figured that the man was utterly fatigued from taking on too much on his plate, and his body was telling him he needed a break. And while Chai was glad to hear that Khun was going to lay back down, he frowned when the man said he'd call him a cab to take him back home to Bangkok.

"Get some sleep. In a few hours, you can head home. I'll stay back for a bit then I'll follow."

"Khun, that's ridiculous!" Chai argued, slapping a hand over his mouth as he realised he had raised his voice at his boss. He glanced over a little sheepishly before gently shaking his head. "Sorry Khun. What I meant to say is that I'm not going to leave you. It's not safe for you to drive back alone, and I don't feel comfortable leaving you here while you're unwell. I'm staying with you." Chai said firmly. Where was this confidence coming from?? Living with P'War must've rubbed off on him.

The young assistant stood, a little wobbly from not having slept enough, before steadying himself and speaking again to Khun Dan. "Stay in bed, it's still very early Khun. I'll shower now and then hopefully the kitchen staff will be up. I'll ask them to make us breakfast, and when you're feeling well we'll leave for Bangkok together okay?" Chai told him, deciding he won't take no for an answer. If Khun Dan called a cab for him anyway, Chai would not go - he might have to dig into his savings to pay the driver for his troubles, but he wouldn't be in the back of that car and leave his boss behind.

Before exiting the room to leave for his shower, Chai turned around at the doorway to look at his boss. "Oh! And don't even think of touching the laptop Khun! I already typed up everything from yesterday and sent out emails to push back your appointments so you have nothing on your agenda. There's no work for you to do! Just rest, okay?" Chai told him, giving the other a little smile and wave before leaving.

Khun Dan was barely conscious as Chai helped him take his medicine, occasionally groaning from the pain he must be feeling. Chai helped to wipe him down gently before making sure he was covered with the blanket, worried watching his shivering and shuddering form on the bed.

Chai had been planning on showering and sleeping, but didn't want to leave the room or rest at all. He figured that he could stay up a little bit longer, mind made up to monitor his boss and help him through his fever as much as he could.

Deciding to keep himself busy, Chai hopped up on his own bed and opened up Khun Dan's laptop to type up the notes he took about he locations today. He fully believed that Khun had overworked himself into sickness - the lack of food and probably lack of sleep didn't help, which is why he had been so lethargic today. Not only that, but Chai hadn't realised just how bad the situation at work was without an assistant - Khun Dan had been doing everything himself, without complaining. Chai didn't realise just how important he had been, in his role, since he took on a lot of the jobs that probably added on more of the workload to his boss in addition to everything else he had going on. Khun Dan's work ethic was impressive but incredibly worrying, if it meant he'd be driving himself sick like this. So, Chai thought that if there was anything extra he could do to alleviate Khun Dan's stress even just a tiny bit, it would be better in the long run for him.

Chai spent a good hour typing up his notes, organising files, and setting up Khun's meetings on his laptop while soft music played on a low volume. His gaze would shift over to Khun Dan every time he heard a noise or movement, and while he was thankful that the other was finally sleeping he could tell it wasn't a peaceful rest at all.

When he was done with working on the laptop, Chai once again approached the bed to check over Khun Dan. He still wasn't in a good way but when Chai felt his forehead he noticed the fever had subdued slightly. Hoping this meant that Khun Dan was recovering, Chai once again dipped the cloth in the water and got it damp to dab at the other's face, carefully, not wanting to wake him up.

Starting to feel tired, Chai yawned to himself and stretched, his joints popping a little. He should shower, but he was worried about leaving Khun Dan alone - what if it got worse? What if he needed help? A shower, Chai decided, could wait until morning. He had rescheduled Khun's meetings for tomorrow anyway, and they had no other properties to look over, just a drive back up to Bangkok. They could take it slow. Chai believed Khun Dan deserved the break.

Chai had intended to get up and lay down in the second bed, but his eyes started to droop. His body felt heavy too, and he slumped into the seat, head bowed slightly over close towards Khun Dan's bed as he too fell asleep.

A few hours later, Chai awoke to a gentle shake and to a raspy voice calling out his name. The younger man blinked a few times to focus before yawning, shifting a little in his seat before he realised that Khun Dan was awake.

"Chai, don't sleep on the Chai... You'll have a back and neck pain. Go to your bed... Chai..."

"Khun?" Chai called out, clearing his throat. "Oh, Khun! You're awake! Here, let me get you some more medicine!"

Chai hopped out of his chair, a little dizzy from having moved so fast after just waking up and very stiff from the uncomfortable sleeping position. He grabbed the foil pack that had been left on the table and popped out two of the pills, urging Khun Dan to take them with water. Without thinking, Chai put his hand up against Khun Dan's forehead, sighing with relief when he felt that his temperature had reduced. "You had a fever Khun," Chai told him, his touch lingering. "Are up feeling any better?"

Slowly, Chai lowered his hand, taking the glass of water from Khun and putting it on the table. "It's still early Khun, don't you want to rest for a few more hours?" Chai told him, bringing the blankets back up his boss' body. "Or do you want to eat instead? The staff are asleep but I can make some congee or soup for you. Just stay in bed and get better, okay?" Chai told him softly. He was fussing over Khun Dan, he knew, and maybe he shouldn't be so invested - P'War's words of warning were in the back of his head - but Khun was hurting and Chai didn't want to see his boss in pain. Despite everything, Khun did look out for him - now, it was Chai's turn to return the favour.

[d-vient]

"Save him, catch me. Save him, catch me."

TRAP. (2024)

[alpacacare-archive]

day twoe ah haha

[danikatze]

[ID in alt text]

✨ This scene ✨

[cornley-amateur-drama-society]

Same scenario as before, except it's the other four ! And, straight into the scene:

“Sandra!” Max yells, just a moment too late. The platform that was supporting the thing bends uncomfortably, a groaning sound that stills the world for a split second, before everything comes crashing down.

Sandra pushes Chris back, trying to follow after him. He falls off the stage. She gets caught in the shoulder blade, the thing pushing her forward, but not enough. The piece catches her mid-thigh and keeps her on the stage. Her cry of pain mingles with Chris', echoing in the empty theatre.

“Shite,” Trevor hisses, rushing to the edge of the stage, Annie appearing next to him.

“I'm the first-aider,” Annie says, swallowing the nausea down. “You three focus on getting Sandra out of that. After I get Chris checked out, I'll have a look at her, alright?”

Sandra huffs out a strained agreement. Annie points out Dennis, Jonathan, and Robert to come help her with Chris. They quickly make their way down to the main floor. Annie doubles back to the edge of the stage and calls for Vanessa.

Vanessa's eyes are wet, and Annie can see how she can't decide where to look—at Chris on the floor, pale and clearly in pain, or at Sandra, whose face was red with the struggle to not let anyone know how much pain she's in.

“Nessa, call A&E, alright? They know all of us by now, so I expect that the paramedics will be here soon.” Vanessa nods her head rapidly, her shaking hands fumbling for her phone.

“Alright, Chris,” Annie says, her voice soothing and steady, walking to him and beginning to examine him. As she knelt down next to him, she started asking the routine questions that she learned in her first-aider courses. “Who is the Prime Minister?”

“Keith Stormer,” Dennis answers confidently.

“Not your question,” Robert says immediately, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I thought his name was Kier Starmer?” Jonathan asks, poking his head from around Robert's shoulder.

“It is,” Chris grits out, sucking in another sharp breath when Annie puts pressure on one of the sore parts of his arm. It's not broke, but it will be one hell of a bruise in a few days.

“Good, Chris,” Annie says, patting his hair softly in apology for the accidental bruise poking. “Do you have someone you'd like us to call for you? Anyone that can help out here, or at the hospital later?”

Chris uncharacteristically hesitates, glancing at Robert, before he clears his throat, “My Mum. I want to see my Mum.”

A thump is heard from the stage, followed by Max swearing for several seconds. Robert's eyes grow wide, simply staring at Chris in disbelief. Dennis frowns, scratching at the side of his nose. Jonathan and Annie share a look, and Chris swallows audibly.

“Please.”

--- Annie looks back at Chris and gives him a thin smile. “Are you sure, Chris? The last time she was here…” She trails off, not wanting to bring up the bad memory, but having to anyway.

Robert takes a few steps away from Chris, making sure to be quiet about it, and Annie's eyes flick to him. He emphatically shakes his head “NO” and makes an X with his arm. Annie nods nearly imperceptibly, but it's enough to let Robert know she understood him.

Though it isn't that hard of a task, to be fair.

“She's my Mum, Annie. She should know when I'm injured.” Chris argues logically. Or, well, what passes for logic in Chris' mind right now.

“But she's, she's,” Annie wracks her mind for an excuse to keep Celia from getting phoned. “She's not a paramedic or first-aider, Chris. She would just be another extra body to work around.”

“They're not paramedics or first-aiders,” Chris fires back, pointing with a pinky at the three men standing on his other side.

“They're Cornley,” Annie says, “The only thing keeping them from being either of those other roles are work ethic, confusion, and a tendency to fade into the background.” She ticks the reasons off on her fingers, nodding to Robert, Dennis, and Jonathan respectively.

Chris quiets down, and Dennis decides to sit down next to him. Close enough that Chris could feel his presence, but not close enough that Dennis would accidentally further pain him. “Your Mum doesn't really like us,” he says conversationally, leaning his elbows on his knees. “She'd probably just yell at us the whole time and then at you.” Dennis pauses, tilting his head in thought. “And then at us, again. She's kind of scary, your Mum is, Chris.”

“I know,” Chris mutters, shutting his eyes. “She scares me, too, sometimes.”

Dennis and Annie pretend not to hear his confession, knowing that the Director is not in his right mind and would absolutely hate finding out he'd been so vulnerable with them. “No, Chris, don't close your eyes. We don't know if you've got a concussion or anything, yet, so you can't fall asleep.”

“We should keep him awake by talking about plays!” Dennis suggests, straightening up.

“Oh, god, no,” Robert and Chris say at the same time.

Jonathan and Annie muffle their laughter while the two men stare at each other, betrayed. Dennis is just frowning, trying to think of another topic of conversation.

“The paramedics are probably almost here,” Annie says, once she's no longer laughing. “You just need to stay awake until they can check you out, Chris. We'll follow behind you in Trev's van when they cart you out.”

Chris looks at Annie, blue eyes hazy with pain. “Alright, Annie.” His eyes soften as she pets him on the head again, Dennis striking up a conversation with Jonathan about the latest footy match of the Prem League. Robert chimed in every now and again, but mostly just kept watch over them. Annie felt a surge of protectiveness over the cast, and especially Chris. Like hell was Celia Bean going to know about this.

--- Robert raises an eyebrow and scoffs at Chris' plea. “You actually want us to invite your mother, my ex, to the theatre? With both of us here? And you, completely incapacitated?”

Chris just stares back, a frown on his face.

“What, are you going spare now? What would having her here do?”

“She's my mother, Robert.”

“And?” Robert can't stop himself from asking. “The last time you spoke to the woman, she proceeded to only talk about the Westminster Dog Show and how her neighbour Violet can never take a hint.”

“What's wrong with that,” Dennis asks, looking between the two men. “My Mum calls and does the same. Well, she's usually talking about Bake-Off and her neighbour is named Maris and not Violet, but the idea's the same I suppose.”

“She called after The Most Lamentable… after having seen Chris nearly break his foot when the drawbridge fell wrong. And having Max embarrass him on national telly during their finding out they were twins. She didn't say one word about his perfromance,” he pauses, “performance, and then reminded him that he needs to, ah,” Robert stops himself.

“Needs to what?” Jonathan asks.

“Nothing, ignore me, just focus on the fact that my ex-paramour is an awful woman to have around right now,” Robert replies hurriedly. Chris gives the man a grateful look.

“Do you want to phone my Mum instead?” Dennis asks.

“How would that help?” Chris barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

“She's good in a crisis,” the small man shrugs.

“True,” Jonathan chimes in. “She's helped me with Bennie more times than I can count.”

Annie, Dennis, and Jonathan start talking about Bennie, trying to give Chris a distraction to focus on instead of the pain. Both Chris and Robert give them a mildly irritated but fond look.

Blue meets blue, and Chris mouths, “Thanks.”

Robert nods. Of course. Anytime.

--- Jonathan finds himself speechless at the sight of Chris pleading with Annie about this. Ever since he's been with the Drama Society, he's always had a, a, a caution around Chris' Mum. She never seemed to be alright with the fact that Jonathan was divorced with a child, but dating someone in the cast. Even though that relationship ended ages ago. He'd done his level best to make sure that Bennie never ran into her, and given that Chris' Mum showing up in person to the Theatre was as likely as England winning the World Cup, it has been successful so far.

Still, Jonathan is a parent. He knows what it's like to find out that your only child is hurt or injured in some way. He supposes this is what spurs him on to sit down next to Chris and start talking to him, Dennis and Robert's confusing argument a backdrop to it all.

“Have I ever told you about the time Bennie and I were watching Pan, and she started to try and recite your lines along with you?” He asks Chris. “Or when we watched A Christmas Carol? She was more excited to see you on screen than she was me,” he chuckles at the memory of Bennie cheering when Chris-Scrooge appeared.

This seems to distract Chris from following the line of conversation about his Mum. “No, you haven't.” Chris looks away, and winces when his eyes catch on the lights in the house of the theatre. They weren't bright, but it appears that all of Chris' senses were heightened due to adrenalin from the fall. “Does she really?”

“She does the splash sound then the cut to stage when you walk on,” Jonathan confirms. “She's decided that you're her second-favourite member of the cast.”

“Her first is you, I assume?” Chris asks rhetorically.

“Nah,” Jonathan denies easily. “That role is held by Auntie Sandie. I'm Bennie's solid third choice.”

“Doesn't that hurt? Knowing you're not her first choice?”

Jonathan thought about it while Annie murmured more concussion check-list questions to Chris. Once she gave him a tentative clear for concussion status, Jonathan answered the injured man's questions. “I don't think so, no. I know that outside of the Drama Society, I'm her favourite Daddy in the world, as she says. And anyway,” he leans back on his hands, “Loving her isn't about me. Even if I were her least favourite person in the world, she's still my Bennie-Button. She's still my little girl. And it's my job to love her regardless of what happens, you know? That's what being a parent is about, to me.”

Chris is silent for a long while, and Annie moves from checking him over to rubbing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly before going back on stage to check on Sandra. Dennis and Robert's argument seems to be over, now discussing what they're going to eat for dinner. Jonathan knows that it's only because Annie isn't worried about Chris as much as she had been earlier that they aren't as worried either. Jonathan is more concerned about Chris' emotional injuries that have become rapidly more apparent in the past five or so minutes than they have been in nearly a decade of knowing him.

“Oh,” Chris says rather faintly when he speaks again. “I've,” he pauses, wetting his lips and looking at some point on the stage curtains off to the left. “Oh.”

--- Dennis bites his lip. “Are you sure you don't just want a Mum?” He asks hopefully. Mrs. Bean scares him, and when she and Robert were dating, he hated having to go home to the flat and see her there, sitting primly on the edge of the sofa while Countdown was on the telly. And not even the funny one with Jon Richardson or Jimmy Carr. The original. And he knew that Robert didn't care for the original either. It always confused him why he would let Mrs. Bean order him around like some kind of dogsbody. Robert was the exact opposite in his mind.

“Why would I just want any Mum here, Dennis,” Chris snipes, inhaling sharply when he moves the wrong way.

“Well, I always thought that my Mum or Annie's or Max's were good in these kind of situations,” Dennis explains, scratching the side of his nose again.

“Well,” Chris starts, “I want to see my Mum.”

“But why?” Dennis couldn't stop the words from falling from his lips if they had been holding a neon sign with horns attached. The question was going to be asked, one way or another.

The furrow in Chris' brow deepened. “What do you mean why? She's my Mother. She raised me. She's my Mum.”

Dennis' frown matches Chris', and the two of them don't notice that it's dead quiet in the theatre. “Those aren't reasons, Chris.”

“Then what, pray tell, are good reasons, Dennis?” The sarcasm was palpable, but Dennis ignored it. Sometimes, you had to play the jester's role in real life and tell the king what everyone else is thinking.

“My Mum knows what to say to keep me calm,” Dennis starts, “Annie's Mum brings blankets and a soft plush animal with her if you phone her up. And Max's Mum has their chef make a nice, comforting bowl of soup for you to eat to help you feel better.”

Brown eyes meet steely blue with no hesitation. “If you really want your Mum here because you think she'll be able to help or make you feel better,” Dennis says, “then we'll get her here. But if you're only asking for her because you think you should, then we can get an actual Mum who will be helpful and make you feel better.”

“But, but she's my Mum,” Chris sounds lost, almost. Like the words Dennis says to him exist but do not make anything near sense. “I should want here here when I'm hurt.”

“Should,” Dennis repeats, tone non-judgemental.

Chris blinks a few times, barely nodding as he absorbed the information. “Should” is an easy word to use, but it's so much harder to confront what it means.

hello everyone today i woke up thinking about chris calling for/asking for his mother after being severely injured or ending up in some other form of severe distress and one of his companions has to gently remind him that her being here would just make things so much worse for him and all he can do is sob because he still just wants his mama soooo bad </3