#THEY CUT THE LINES REFERRING TO THE KISS IN THE OPENING NIGHT SCENE

[7smiles]

SasuNaru rant bc its pridemonth

dudebros watched Naruto entirely with their eyes closed because how do you look at this series and not think Naruto and Sasuke are cosmically intertwined in both heart and soul.

But besides that im going to yap and break down some lyrics used in the show that literally back up how they feel for each other.

This is from the opening "Diver," in Naruto Shippuden. The lyrics are so obviously from Sasuke's perspective. Not only does the imagery show how Sasuke is continuously sinking and full of sorrow, it shows Naruto reaching out to him- chasing after him like he's done this entire series. He is the light shining on Naruto ITS LITERALLY WRITTEN HERE

Theres also Naruto Shippuden ending 6, "Broken Youth"

The lyrics talk about someone referring to ANOTHER MAN, in which the speaker refers to the subject as a simple person with a strong will to fight. After that, he questions what has changed with the subject as time has passed. I'll cut to the chase, the ending credits literally have a scene where Sasuke and Naruto are staring at each other when the lyrics "Please kiss me, Please Kiss me all night"

Another opening I'd like to mention is "Namikaze Satellite."

Like come on do i really have to spell out how this song talks about how despite their distance, the wind will always connect them??? It also talks about how theyre constantly separating, and personally i think this comes from Naruto's perspective because ITS SO positive despite their turmoil and distance. The part where it talks about being thrown to the side is so reminiscent of how Naruto lacked permanence before Team 7. That impermanence is reflected in Sasuke leaving 😔

"Seishun Kyousoukyoku" is another prime example of original Naruto openings painting a picture of how important Sasuke and Naruto are to one another. Naruto is the only person Sasuke can be emotionally vulnerable with and even as the days, weeks, years pass for them, they will always be able to pick up where they left off. Their bond has always been so wildly important to the other that its like nothing has changed.

We see Sasuke and Naruto change throughout the series, sure, but their relationship has stayed the same. It transcends the bounds of friendship or even brotherhood; Sasuke and Naruto are always in competition with each other, but more than anything they want a relationship unaffected by the binds of their fates. Sasuke's feelings about Naruto, romantic or not, are a driving force in his pursuit for power- its literally Itachi all over again.

Theres that scene during the Valley of Death arc where Sasuke tombstones Naruto, a surely fatal blow. Sasuke is convinced Naruto is dead because he's literally floating face down in the river and SASUKE IS DISTRAUGHT. The absolute look of sorrow on his face simply says it all

"My body just moved on it's own" is one of my favorite SasuNaru lines ever ITS SO PRECIOUS. This was their first major mission together, their friendship yet to be anything remotely friendly, and Sasuke was already protecting him, blaming muscle memory or something to avoid his apparent embarrassment. As much pride as he has, he has always felt positive towards Naruto, even if it manifested as jealousy sometimes.

Theres another scene in the manga where Sasuke recounts feeling "warm and fuzzy" at watching Naruto try to make friends, but he says it made him feel like he had a form of weakness. ARE YOU HEARING THIS!!! They are literally each other's greatest weakness and they have lived and died for each other over and over.

SasuNaru is real. Happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

A Year of Love and Horror

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 1, 178

Summary: I don’t know if it’s actually been a year since I started this series but I’m celebrating their anniversary, which is October 1st. Check out this story and this one to understand certain references.

Warnings: saucy suggestions, lots of adorable fluffy goodness, Dieter being Dieter

Check out masterlist here

“It’s just special effects. I’ll be fine. I’ll be having churros after this. It’s just special effects. I’ll be fine. I’ll be having churros after this.”

Dieter went through this mantra while waiting in line with you. The Haunted Mansion has always been your favourite ride at Disneyland, but Dieter had to confess he’s always been too afraid to ride it. You squeezed his hand, momentarily breaking him from him chanting his mantra.

“You doing okay?”

He just nodded. This was going to be the first ride of the day so it would be over and done with, no dread looming throughout the day. If he focused on the after, he would make it. He watched every behind-the-scenes video you could find about the ride and watched a ride through from the safety of the living room. He was still terrified but determined to get through this. He wanted to make an effort especially today.

It was your one-year anniversary, and you were celebrating at the supposed happiest place on earth. Arriving the night before so you could get an early start on rides, Dieter had an earlier start with you. He also hoped to forget the impending frights awaiting him by burying himself in you.

“Happy Anniversary honey cakes.”

“Happy Anniversary Dieter.”

He moved further up to bed so he could face you, “Do you want presents now or later?”

“So that amazing orgasm wasn’t my present?”

“Oh, that’s just the usual morning special,” he snuggled a lot closer to you. “Fancy another one?”

“I had more than enough last night so I think I’ll be fine,” you kissed him then got up from the bed. “And I’m hungry and want to get started on rides as soon as possible.”

An apprehensive look went over Dieter’s face, so you put a reassuring hand on his cheek, “Just go through your mantra and focus on churros.”

Now he was standing in the sinking room trying not to have a sinking feeling. He focused on his breathing and imagining the smell of churros. Before he knew it, he was seeing sunlight again.

You thought he did extremely well. Managing to keep his eyes open for most of it although he squeezed your hand more firmly in some parts. You couldn’t help but hug him.

“How was it?”

He sighed in relief, “Not too bad. I survived.”

Nudging him over so he’d be in view of the churro cart, you asked, “Churro?”

“Churro!”

After that treat, the rest of the day was thoroughly enjoyable. Avoiding the Tower of Terror as Dieter was not ready for that one, you went on several more rides. Stopping for lunch at the Red Rose Tavern, Dieter was thrilled at the Grey Stuff dessert and tried to not scoff the whole thing. You both went back to the hotel for a rest before going out later for dinner.

“Okay, my present first,” you handed Dieter a neatly wrapped gift.

Dieter joyfully ripped off the paper and soon he was looking at a framed picture; actually, it was a collage of pictures which were cut up and arranged to create the silhouette of Beauty and the Beast.

“You made this?” you nodded. “Now my present is going to look crappy in comparison.”

“I’m sure it won’t be,” but he had a glum look as he handed you a much smaller gift. Unwrapping it, you held a pack of playing cards which seemed familiar.

“Was this the pack of cards you tried to impress me with?”

“Yeah, but now,” he turned the box around to reveal some writing; it read ’52 Things I Love About You’.

“The problem was only coming up with 52 reasons,” he mumbled.

Trying to hold back tears, you instead buried your face in his chest. “I love it!”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And I can carry it around with me whenever I want.”

Dieter sighed in the way that could only mean he didn’t realise that fact but was now happy in his accidental thoughtful gesture.

Dinner was held at the Carthay Circle Restaurant. It was a fun excuse to dress up. Dieter regaled you with the story of how it was based off the Carthay Circle Theatre back in the Golden Age of Hollywood. The food was amazing and over dessert, you both clinked glasses, toasting the day.

“Here’s to another million years.”

“A million years?” you asked.

Dieter had a bashful look, “I was going to say another year but that didn’t sound grand so tried to go with many more years and then it melded into a million,” he swallowed and ran his hand over his head. “Sorry.”

“Nope, I love it. I hope we get a million more years together. Even if we end up as ghosts.”

“You’d be a ghost?”

“Well if you’re coming back as a ghost, then so am I.”

The next day, you made it back home sometime in the afternoon as the evening before and the following morning was spent in amorous appreciation.

Walking back into the living room after putting away everything, Dieter came up to you holding out another gift of a jewellery box.

“Dieter, I thought we agreed on no jewellery.”

“We did. But this is a day after present. And it’s for both of us so it doesn’t count.”

Giving a happy shake of your head, you opened the box. Covering your hand in shock, you looked at Dieter with tears in your eyes. Inside the box was a broken heart charm bracelet but the broken pieces were in the shape of a puzzle.

“Is this a two-piece puzzle?” Dieter nodded. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I remembered that adorably weird little thing you said.”

The hug you gave him was as massive as you possibly could manage when there was so much Dieter to hug. He leaned down so you could give him a very passionate kiss.

After putting the bracelets on both your hands, you gave him another kiss. “I love it and I love you.”

Later that night, while you were in the bathroom getting ready for bed, Dieter went over to his unpacked bag. Making sure you weren’t going to come out, he took out a small box. It was a small white box. He walked into the walk-in wardrobe and went to the furthest corner of his side that he knew you never went to. Pulling out a drawer to its fullest, he took a pair of shoes he rarely wore. He opened the small white box and took out a small gold box. To the observant, it was the key from The Mummy, and pressing a hidden button, it opened exactly like it would in the film. Dieter took one last look at the ring before putting it back in its small white box and then hiding that in one of his shoes. He closed the drawer with a sigh, hoping he could get the box out soon.

Maybe in a year.

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @brilliantopposite187 @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @cevans-is-classic @glshmbl

Picture references!

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Writing Pattern Tag Game

@bootlegfrank tagged me and @septiccoffeefreak - who shares this post w me because we're writing partners >:3 (frank tagged us indirectly. and then directly because i responded saying i was gonna do it. so in-indirect-diretly(??))

Rules: list the first lines(s) of your last 10 fics and see if there's a pattern. I also said where each one is from in case u don't wanna scroll through our ao3 and do the math urself!!!

all these fics except one r RPF, sooo BE WARNED. i'm putting everything under da cut, and i'm also putting my reblog banner since fanfiction!!! is!!! art!!!

Seán’s about ready to burn his entire calendar.

from "Scheduling Conflicts and How To Cope - A Guide For The Busy Homosexual"

Tommy hates LA with every fiber of his being.

from "City Of Angels"

it's cold, and it hurts.

from "The Part Where it Gets Better (Lads rescue AU)", and also THIS SOUNDS SO WEIRD OUT OF CONTEXT LIKE WHAT'S COLD??? it's water. the water is cold. this is the character based one btw. WE FOUND IT, THE NON-RPF!!!

Tommy inspects Seán’s behelit tattoo carefully, running his thumb over it a little, then kisses it.

I fucking would. kissing all his tattoos right now. mwah. this goddamn MOOD is from "There's No Place Like Home"

Ethan N3st0r was not expecting Seán to still be awake at three AM, even though with jet lag considered, he really fuckin should have.

I censored the name for search but it's not like that in the fic, that's just for tumblr. anyway, from "Three Drabbles In Which Tommy and Seán are bad at Keeping Secrets"

Ethan's the one to bring it up first, on Brain Leak, of all things.

OPENING WITH ETHAN AGAIN LMAOO. this is from "And Suddenly, It Makes Sense."

"So, who would have thought, huh? T0mmy1nn1t and Jacks3pt1c3y3, famous YouTubers, passed away in their sleep on the same night."

censored for tumblr again. from "Count your Soulmates- There's only one."

Seán and Tommy have sleepovers sometimes.

from "kissing practice". very original opening line /sar /lh (also tbh i feel awful about em being evil in this one :( I know its fanfic and i can do whatever I want but like. idk. i'm not accusing em of being mean IRL okay??? OKAY))

Seán spends about fifteen minutes pacing and staring at himself in the mirror, doing breathing exercises his therapist taught him and trying not to rub or scratch his wrists too much.

from "Puppy Love", the closest we've ever gotten to full misce posting on main

They were gluing ducks to a jeep the first time it happened.

FROM "PETNAMES" AND ALSO THE BEST OPENING LINE EVER

INTERPRETATION TIME!!!!

soooo yeah!!! we like to jump right into action as well but I think it's safe to say our autistic ass habits of giving exposition for everything lead to the specific outcome of starting in the middle of a scene, WITH an explanation of the scene. like we're already in the middle of something going on but also sometimes it's exposition at the same time somehow?? or like right after these first lines. idk maybe that's just me????

the way it's usually less (character does this) and more (character does this BECAUSE ____ // character is doing this and FEELING ____) feels like it's trying to give context, to me. but again idk maybe just me

TIME FOR SEÁN'S READING:

@septiccoffeefreak - "What I'm noticing here is more along the lines of just, how we almost always seem to open with a person. Usually by their actual name(s) too and not just a pronoun. I understand what you mean, Tommy, but I don't personally get that vibe? You could totally be right, of course, I just don't pick up on that. I defenitely notice, though, just how many of these are sentences where the literal first word is a name. the two exceptions to that are the pronoun "they" (which is still a person- or two people actually), and then water.

I guess the dialogue could also be considered an exception, but I don't think it counts since it also directly references us as characters.

and that's not something you necessarily have to do. You could open describing scenery or objects, or with dialogue that DOESN'T have the names of the characters in it- you could open with wind through a blade of grass or a character cursing under their breath or someone's cellphone crashing to the pavement or something. So it's definitely an "us" thing, it's a quirk of our writing style and not just normal writing. I don't know if like, we ALWAYS do this, but I do know that in these ten fics you pulled we do. I wouldn't be surprised if we did it like literally all the time as well, but I'm not going to pretend to know every first line we've ever penned to paper. or...print?? I don't fucking know, here, I'm just analyzing sentences on the internet for a tagging project.

Sorry if this ramble is kind of long, I hope it's at least interesting though??? sort of interesting? kind of interesting, in it's own way, hopefully. at least mildly, like a video you didn't turn on but aren't really reaching for the mouse/remote on to change it. You know?? Yeah. Like that. Or more interesting then that, hopefully. Thanks for uh, reading or, whatever, listening if you have a screen reader i guess, I'm getting nervous and it's very obvious because i'm rambling so I'm gonna hand things back off to the birthday boy, Toms. wish Tommo a happy birthday or I swear to fucking god your liver will be missing in the morning and you'll find it at the bottom of your morning cup of coffee."

back to me:

LMAO

wow omg i love my babygirl,,,, that made me laugh >:p

ANYWAYS. i didn't notice that!! oh em gee,,,,, name moment.

YOU SHOULD DO THIS TOO AND SEE IF YOUUUU SEE ANYTHING!!!!!

I'M TAGGING @kalcifers-blog AND.... no one else because all my other mutuals who i know for a fact write have paused as far as i'm aware, bc they're into mcyt RPF like I am and the w1lbvr situation put them on hiatus. and i don't know if any of them are back to feeling up to writing stuff.

I don't write about w1bvr ever and didn't watch him so I wasn't that affected but a lot of people were even if they just watched so like... Kalcie ur alone on here i'm SO SORRIE. ALSO this is /nf so u don't have to if u dont want to :p :3 >:D :000 >:PPPP :000 >:00

[ctl-yuejie]

between us ep. 1-3 (without having watched uwma)

In hindsight very funny how I was able to ignore all the snuggly countdown posts and then get immediately pulled into ep. 1 of between us.

At the moment this is my feel good show, I know there is drama on the horizon, but New and the crew really managed to make the storyline feel fresh inside the well-used university romance genre.

I adore Win and Team as the main characters. Besides great chemistry and very good acting I love how their hook-up leads to their relationship evolving while also being the catalyst for both of them to have to confront and deal with fears and trauma. Win’s quiet but confident attitude is captivating and Team is both a brat and also the cutest.

Some aspects from the past episodes I liked most

1. Their physical reaction to each other whenever they are close to each other

2. New upping his game as the director. One part I especially enjoyed was the cutting short of the first sex scene and us seeing Team struggle with feeling stronger feelings than just for a hook up to us seeing how softly Win caressed Team’s cheek and it clicking how confusing it must be to be treated that softly and precious during a one night stand.

3. The communication. They (mostly Team) do have miscommunications but not on accident but because they choose not to talk about certain things (yet). But when it comes to important bits they are very open and I adore Win for reading Team so well and sticking with him until Team can sort his feelings better.

4. The little chuckle Win did after Team placed the tiniest kiss on his lips. Every move and reaction in that scene was pure perfection but the chuckle was the most honest and joyful thing I have heard in a long time. So sweet.

5. The madness of having a side couple with major super natural elements: just pure unintentional comedy.

6. The pacing and nuance with which they introduce Win and Team’s respective struggles.

7. Prem needs to release the soundtrack asap because I am obsessed with the song.

Some things I am worried about

1. Manow getting sidelined. In ep. 2 we already got bits that were refered to but not shown (her noodle date) and I really wanted to see that. Now that we get even more couples I am worried she won’t even have as much screen time as the other side couples. And I don’t think her lovestory was prominently featured in uwma either.

2. not worried in terms of the series but it boggles my mind how so many reactors are so confused about why Team avoids Win and the “we break up” line. had to get it out her since it would be silly to get mad at the reactors for it.

But the series flows nicely so far, I tend to skip some of Win’s brothers and ABC content but to each their own.

3. related to point 3: looks like we are in for some classic misunderstanding next week. tbh not too worried, i might enjoy it in their style regardless how cliche they are going to go about it.

[xxmolls]

King of Hearts

I wrote this song in the summer of 2009. I was 19 years old and had just finished my first year of college.

I was working as a counselor at a summer camp in the Missouri countryside right outside my town. I was pulling ticks off of me every day, but didn’t think much of it.

In July, a month after I had started working at the camp, I started to get some weird symptoms. The very first one I noticed was that anytime I ate anything, I’d feel sick to my stomach. It became so severe and concerning, that I took a day off work that month to go into my doctor’s office.

My doctor ran several blood tests, thinking I may have developed a food allergy.

All of the tests came back normal (except apparently there was something funky about the shape of my red blood cells that indicated a possible infection, but I didn’t see that test result until years later).

My doctor shrugged it off, and said I probably had IBS.

Spoiler alert: I did not have IBS.

Around the time of that very same doctor’s appointment, I was having the time of my life playing gigs with my high school + college band. I had kind of stolen/borrowed musicians from other bands at my high school whom I admired, and together we formed our own band to compete in our school’s Battle of the Bands my senior year.

I ended up going to the local university, primarily because I loved my hometown and wanted to stay involved in the local music scene. The band was able to stay together my first 2 years of college and we tried to schedule frequent gigs at local venues opening for nationally touring bands.

Often, again with the Audacity Of Youth, I would write a song one day, teach it to the band that night, and then we would perform it for the first time at a gig a couple of days later.

Though I had forgotten, that was apparently what happened with my song “King of Hearts.”

(continued under the cut)

I remember writing it in my parents’ basement one day after working a shift at the summer camp.

I like throwing in metaphors and allegories in my songs (sometimes a little too much), and though I've made it a goal to state things in a simple way, I usually come up with incredibly wordy lines. This song in particular is a huge mouthful.

Initially I remember trying to do some sort of play on humpty dumpty with the lyrics. That’s where the intro of the song comes from. I say “fell asleep on his couch last night” which was supposed to relate to humpty dumpty “having a great fall” in the nursery rhyme. “Thick makeup put me together again” sounds awkward if you say it in a conversation in real life, but I came up with that line from “all the king’s horses and all the king’s men / couldn’t put him together again.” That line in the nursery rhyme is also where the King of Hearts phrase came from. My Tourette-y brain is constantly playing a game of word association, and jumped from “king’s horses” to a line about King of Hearts, Queen of Sin.

Pretty much right after the intro I abandoned the humpty dumpty references. The song ended up turning into more of a poker game than a nursery rhyme. It seems my neurodivergent AF brain instead switched to card game references, which is where the term King of Hearts came from.

This song is very cheeky, and the narrator has some traits in common with me in that she’s very self-deprecating. Calling herself the “Queen of Disaster” makes me laugh and makes it seem like the narrator may be a bit of a DRAMA Queen, but it also sounds pretty relatable to me and my own life, as well as something I might call myself.

This specific verse is one of the wordiest mouthfuls I have every written:

He kissed me gently, sweetly shyly, so coy He promised me a life he promised me joy

It can be a tongue twister to sing if you don’t enunciate everything as clearly as possible and pace yourself, but somehow in this video from the first time we performed it I pulled it off (did I every time after that?.... not exactly).

My favorite lines from the song are probably:

Left his apartment never really talked again He’s busy with his wife I’m busy with my gin

It just sounds so sad but also so funny to me. My favorite brand of humor is definitely self-deprecating, sarcastic humor, and so I loved making the narrator in the song say sassy yet dark things.

I have probably mentioned before my habit at the time of deciding to play random instruments at gigs that I had no idea how to actually play. In this performance, I attempted to play the harmonica. I even got the little “harmonica head gear thing” for the gig, which was a complete disaster with my curly hair.

The ending needed some work (and got it later), but this was a solid first performance of a song that had been written a couple of days earlier (can I say that for every song that went through that process?.... not exactly).

The version on my album is a little different. My producer wanted just my vocals for the intro, when I had initially been playing it with some kick drum accompaniment and some guitar chords toward the end. My voice wasn’t very strong when recording the album version (I had either shingles or a huge goiter in my neck- both of those recording sessions kind of blur together for me), so I’m not sure I like how that turned out. The tempo also seems a little slower than usual (we did not use a click track for the intro, so that’s on me).

Also, re-listening to the video with my college band, I like a lot of the things my drummer was doing with the snare drum. That didn’t translate to the studio version with the session musicians.

We added some B3 Hammond organ to the studio version and a guitar solo. I did not reprise my harmonica solo on the album version (fortunately).

The two versions are slightly different and might be interesting to compare.

This song definitely came at the end of the height of my creativity. At the time songs were popping out of me every day. I (almost arrogantly) never expected that well to dry up.

Within the next month, the sicker I got, the more drained I felt in every area of my life. The songs were not as easy to pull from my head. It took too much energy and emotion, and I did not have any anymore.

I could make some analogy to how I became like humpty dumpty, but that does not quite fit in my situation. The truth is I wasn’t broken into pieces… I was just empty.

Lyrics:

King of Hearts

Fell asleep on his couch last night Just because it was good don’t mean it was right Thick makeup put me together again He’s the king of hearts, I’m the queen of sin He’s the king of hearts, I’m the queen of sin

We both went along with the good time we had Just because we were happy don’t mean we weren’t sad He’s with a girl from the city above I’m the queen of disaster, he’s the king of love I’m the queen of disaster, he’s the king of love There’s nothing in my hand I can play to win We’re never gonna get to fall in love again There’s nothing in my hand I can play to win We’re never gonna get to fall in love again

He kissed me gently, sweetly shyly, so coy He promised me a life he promised me joy

Left his apartment never really talked again He’s busy with his wife I’m busy with my gin

There’s nothing in my hand I can play to win We’re never gonna get to fall in love again There’s nothing in my hand I can play to win We’re never gonna get to fall in love again

With a ring on her finger and a king in her hand she got the life I wanted with a good hearted man she got the life I wanted with a good hearted man

I lost the life I wanted with a good hearted man

[star-mum]

Criminal Minds 3x10 - Live Star Reaction

I have not seen Malcom in the Middle ;-; so I would like to know the relation to this ep (idk if it’s a cameo or references but still)

Also even before i hit play, I’m assuming by the title theres gonna be a black out of some kinda

“No one sees true night, what’s really there in the dark” Oh shit maybe not, then

Okay I am really scared of the dark, I hope this episode doesn’t fuck me up

A NOIR DETECTIVE THEME ???? FUCK IT UP SKSKKS

IS THIS MALCOLM ??? THE ONE IN THE MIDDLE ?? It wasn’t really a close up but I think do recognize the guy sksksksks (I’ll check the cast)

OKAY ALRIGHT, SO— (this sentence was intercepted by Derek and Pen being cuties)

OH MY GO AND NOW DEREK IS OPENING DOORS AND STAYING BEHIND TO WATCH OVER HER ????

“Will you stop with the ‘uh’?” LSKSLS NOW KISS

IT IS THE GUY FROM MALCOLM IN THE MIDDLE

OKAY SO THIS DUDE IS AN AUTHOR AND HE WROTE A FANTASY VERSION OF THOSE KILLINGS

either he’s testing the actions out for his comic book OR he’s “dreaming” of the things he’s doing without being truly aware of it

Im gonna assume the pretty flashback gf is dead (that could be the stressor) or shES WAS NEVER REAL AHAHAH (I’m joking, mostly)

If she did die, the way his agent is acting is weird (why wouldn’t he be a mess? Why wouldn’t his art be darker/more violent?)

“They hate me at Hero World” yeah I wonder WHY MILLO

Okay Vicky is a real person, she could’ve just dumped him

This is already so fucking interesting (and I can’t tell I’m not gonna be able to figure out what’s happening to our boy Malcolm before the brainiacs do)

“Did you know that a domestic cat loose on a normal neighborhood is the equivalent of a small scale ecological disaster?” “...excuse me?” YEAH UH WHAT? REID PLEASE ELABORATE

Derek if you cut him off to focus back on the case i SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, I NEED TO KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS

OOOOOHH ALRIGHT THAT MAKES SENSE

Oops ran right into Rossi, kids gonna get got very soon

All things considered he pretty much just walked off getting hit by a car

“Who?” “Vicky!” “...Johnny...” ooooh Vicky dead, oh Vicky real dead

PREGNANT ????? Ooooohh boooyyyy, that’d be a stressor alright

Do you think (you who has already seen this ep) she was murdered? That’s why this new character is a “vigilante” type thing, why he “sees” people as monsters during the night

There’s also the extreme reaction to all those camera flashes, which would probably be awful to anyone with that many people on your face, BUT it could also be a ptsd response

I was in the middle of typing that (and I was gonna say he could’ve been with her, he feels he “failed to protect her” since he made and she didn’t) BUT the next scene pretty much showed us exactly that so :/ I was robbed of my huge brain today

He keeps having visual and auditory hallucinations and he “forgot” she died, idk exactly what this could be (if I had to point a specific disorder) a lot of things can have those symptoms

I mean ptsd is the most obvious one but that alone wouldn’t make someone kill people

“Street name was Reaper, guess why” he had a sick ass skull tattoo? 🤔

Okay so he IS targeting criminals, which would require a level of research, i mean if I was a high up gang leader I wouldn’t broadcast my home address you know?

Also,,, where the fuck is the murder weapon ???

“You have a fiance?” Oh boy 👀

OKAY OKAY OKAY WAIT WAIT WAIT

WHAT IF, HEAR ME OUT !

what if Vicky did exist BUT they never had a relationship? Maybe he’d seen her around and fantasized this entire relationship with her and HE IS THE ONE WHO KILLED HER ???

His brain could’ve registered enough of what happened for him to seek out to her and know she’s hurt but not enough where he knows he’s the one who hurt her

These little snippets of her voice we keep hearing could’ve been her talking to him directly, screaming at him to stop

I was about to ask “where’s Emily?” hi baby ! She’s laying low for an episode that’s okay LSKSKS one line this far

Is the agent gonna hand in the drawings? Yep guess he did, good job honey

Derek talked to him so softly 🥺

“Did you find the murder weapon?” “Didn’t need to” I WANT TO KNOW

“We believe you took Mr Hill with you when you left?” TOOK HIM WHERE ???

“You’re not gonna wanna miss this” Well would you look at that, our first “good for him” episode (I’d say we let him walk 👀)

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD EPISODE !!! Also by focusing on the unsub more than the investigation, they really made us feel like an outsider to the team

Like when we get to the station, they have a whole profile ready and we’re just thrown in there as confused as Johnny is, which is normally the opposite of what happens

The only other ep that comes to mind that we see none of the investigation play out in real time is the first one with Frank, cause Gideon is telling us what happened

[punchdrunkdoc]

Just Breathe - Epilogue

Summary: Six months after the events in Gotham Square Garden, Bruce is struggling to find balance between his role as Batman and his responsibilities as Bruce Wayne. His life is made even more complicated when he learns that someone knows his secret identity.

Notes: This is a multi-chapter, slow-burn Battinson/original female character story with romance, angst, and crime solving!

Also available on AO3

Masterlist

Reference pics and stuff

4 months later…

An elbow to the solar plexus was not the ideal way to wake up in the morning. 

Especially after only a few hours sleep.  

And especially when said plexus was already sore from an encounter with a baseball bat-wielding thief the night before. 

Bruce groaned and rolled onto his back, rubbing the bruised area below his chest. He glanced over at Beth in concern, knowing what he would find. 

She was having a nightmare.  

Her hairline was damp with sweat, and deep lines creased her forehead. Her arms and legs jerked as if she was trying to escape from something.

It was a familiar sight - she’d been cursed with nightmares since her kidnapping. But they’d been getting less frequent over the past few months, and this was the first one in a while. 

He rolled back towards her, and stroked her hair. "Beth," he murmured into her ear. "Wake up, sweetheart. Its just a dream." 

He kept up the litany of soothing words as he ran his hand up and down her arm, the strong caress meant to ground her in reality, instead of whatever scene was playing in her mind.  

Eventually, it worked. 

With a gasp, she woke. She blinked up at the ceiling for a few moments, before turning to face him. Seeing that he was wide awake, she sighed. “I woke you up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Do you want to talk about it.”

She rolled on to her side and snuggled against his chest. He rubbed her back through the t-shirt she wore to bed. His t-shirt. She still liked to wear his clothes - and he still loved seeing her in them. “Its the same as usual,” she replied. “I’m in the lab. Trapped and alone.”

She’d described it before as an amalgamation of her childhood nightmare with added details from her kidnapping. “Do you, um, need to talk to someone? Professionally, I mean?” he asked cautiously. 

She peered up at him. “Is Bruce Wayne recommending therapy?”

He rolled her eyes at her teasing. “I’m just worried about you.”

She scooted further up the bed until they were eye-to-eye on his pillow. “I’m fine. I’ve been dealing with nightmares my whole life. They usually just flare up when I’m anxious about something.”

“What are you anxious about?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You have to ask?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re over-reacting.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

He opened his mouth to respond but was cut-off by the sound of her alarm clock blaring. 

“Shit!” she yelled. She sprang away from him to shut off the noise and he chuckled into the sudden silence, looking forward to the upcoming chaos that was Beth in the morning. 

Four months of being a couple had taught him a lot about Beth Carraway. One of the things he’d learned was that she liked to sleep - a lot. She always set her alarm to give her the absolute longest time possible in bed. Which meant she only gave herself just enough time to get ready for work…and there was no slack in her routine.  

No time for a leisurely breakfast or to catch up on the daily news. No time to hit the snooze button and indulge in some morning kisses... 

And definitely no time to continue their conversation about tonight. 

Instead, Beth jump out of bed and raced for the shower, the water coming on moments later.  

Bruce loved their routine, despite the havoc of their mornings. Beth had shifted her hours at work which allowed her to finish by late afternoon. She would come straight to Wayne Tower, where he’d be prepping for his night as Batman. They would eat dinner, and spend several hours together, before he left to patrol the city. She would go to bed, and he’d crawl in beside her in the early hours.

It wasn't the most conventional schedule, but it worked for them. Watching her walk through the penthouse, kick off her shoes and greet him with a kiss was the best part of his day. Going to sleep with her in his arms, was the best way to end his night. Especially since - as she was a light sleeper - she would usually wake up when he got into bed, and they would make love.

Like last night. 

He relived the encounter in his head as Beth flitted back into the room, towel tucked around her. She grabbed a pair of panties from the dresser drawer and hopped into them on her way back to the bathroom. 

She’d officially moved into the penthouse - and into his room - a month ago. There’d barely been a discussion about it; she spent very little time in her apartment, and when she mentioned her lease was coming to an end, it seemed obvious that she would move in with him. 

Luckily, she agreed. This mouldering old tower only felt like home when she was here. 

Bruce stretched and got out of bed. He'd crash for several more hours once she left, but he enjoyed being awake for this - seeing her so at home in his - their - space.  

He leaned against the door jamb of the bathroom and winced as she injected the daily dose of serum into her thigh. The long needle and syringe had been replaced by a small subcutaneous delivery device, but he still hated watching it. "The sooner the lab develops a tablet form of that, the better," he commented.  

She shrugged. "It's amazing that I have this at all. I'd inject a javelin-sized needle into my spine if need be."  

He winced again at the imagery. But in truth it was amazing. The pharmaceutical company had managed to reverse engineer the serum in record time, removing the harmful mood stabiliser at Beth's request and producing enough serum in the last couple of months to keep her stocked for a year. 

It helped that their anonymous new owner was generous with the R&D funding... 

But the expense was a small price to pay for the freedom it gave Beth. 

Freedom which he benefitted from immensely. Now that she was able to experience skin contact, it was like she was making up for years of lost time. They made love constantly. They kissed even more often that that. She loved to hold his hand, and brush her fingers through his hair. She would graze her fingers against his arm if they passed each other. 

Like now - Beth trailed her fingers across his bare chest as she squeezed by him through the bathroom door. He smiled and turned to watch her shrug into her work clothes and quickly tie her hair back into a ponytail.

She was ready to go. 

She stopped by him on her way out the door, stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Sleep well.”

He caught her hand to hold her with him for a few moments longer. “I’d sleep better with you beside me. Do you have to go?” he asked, only half-joking. He never felt like they got enough time together. 

“Yes. Someone needs to earn some money around here.”

“Ha, ha.” Turning serious, he squeezed the hand that he held. “Beth…you will still come tonight. Right?”

She frowned and studied his face, obviously seeing the real fear in his eyes. “Oh, Bruce, of course I will. I’m sorry for making you think otherwise. I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.”

  ———

 A little nervous. 

Understatement of the century.

She was anxious as hell!

But she would suck it up, and deal. For Bruce. 

This was important to him. 

He had resurrected his mother’s charity foundation and was hosting its first benefit in twenty years. It was another step in his evolution from recluse to responsible head of his family’s organisation. Another step in rehabilitating Bruce Wayne’s image, and restoring his family’s legacy. Another step in his new quest to use his privilege and position to help the city. 

By night he would guard the city as Batman, inspiring fear in Gotham’s criminals and hope in its citizens. 

But by day, Bruce Wayne would restore the city to its former glory through philanthropy.

And it started with a gala. 

Which he wanted Beth to attend with him…as his date.

It wouldn’t be their first outing as a couple - far from it.

In fact, their first outing had been the day after their first night together - but it hadn’t been a happy occasion. The two of them had stood at the edges of a grave site, watching from afar as a small coffin was lowered into the ground, marked with a simple headstone: 

George Ryan.

After the funeral, as the small procession of mourners had broken up and made their way out of the cemetery, Bruce had remained in place, his eyes locked on that grave.

“Are you okay?” she’d asked.

“I just keep thinking that I should have done more.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Just…more. The next time I come across a kid like that, I’m going to try something different. I know I can’t save everyone - I’m not naive. But I have to try.”

She’d leaned against his side and squeezed his hand. “And that’s why I love you.”

They’d ventured out a few times since, but they both preferred the sanctuary of Wayne Tower, where they could be alone, without the world intruding on their happiness. 

And without the paparazzi getting in the way.  

They’d been caught once - emerging from one of the fanciest restaurants in the city. Bruce had treated her to a night on the town to celebrate her birthday, and they’d been spotted leaving the venue. Luckily, it had barely made a splash in the tabloids, with her dismissed as just his latest floozy.

Tonight was different. Being Bruce’s date for such an important occasion - one the press had been talking about for weeks - would be a statement of intent.    

After tonight, the whole of Gotham would know they were a couple. And she wasn’t sure she was ready for the scrutiny that would come from being the woman who had taken Gotham's most eligible bachelor off the market. High society mothers, gossip rags, social media trolls…they’d all be coming for her. 

So yeah. She was anxious.

Verging on terrified. 

“Are you ready?” Bruce asked. 

She took a deep breath, adjusted the neckline of her strapless, midnight blue gown…and lied. “Yep. Lead the way.”

He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, and they stepped into the packed, glittering ballroom together. 

 ———

 “Well? Has it been as awful as you feared?” Alfred asked, coming to stand beside her. She was tucked into a relatively shadowed alcove at the back of the room. Bruce had gotten roped into a conversation with Mayor Reál about the Renewal fund, so Beth had taken the opportunity to fade into the background a bit.

Hours of making small talk had worn her out.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You knew?” Beth asked.

“That you were dreading tonight?” He chuckled. “Yes. I had an inkling.”

“Bruce didn’t see it.”

Alfred shook his head. “Bruce may have shunned the limelight for the past decade or so, but he was born into it. He’s used to the scrutiny. And he’s learned to ignore it. But for someone new to all this…I can understand how daunting it must be.”

She laughed. “You could say that.”

“But I’m proud of you,” Alfred continued. “I know what it took for you to walk through those doors with him tonight. And I want to thank you.”

Beth shook her head. “Tonight meant a lot to him. I would never have let him do it alone.”

“I wasn’t just talking about tonight.” Alfred faced her and took her hand. “Thank you for bringing him back to the world. This is everything I wanted for him.” He gestured to the gathering behind them, where Bruce was still taking centre stage. “To come back into the light. To carry on his family’s legacy. And to find a new family of his own - you.”

A lump formed in Beth’s throat at the sincerity in Alfred’s voice. But she didn’t know what to say. She felt humbled by the father-like praise - something she’d never experienced in her life. 

And as for his gratitude? 

She didn’t feel worthy of that. 

All she’d done was love a man that she found utterly loveable. 

She was spared having to respond by a soft gruff voice. “Beth?”

She turned to find Bruce walking towards them, a small smile on his face. “Can I have this dance?” he asked.  He noticed Alfred standing next to her, and added jokingly, “Unless you’re already spoken for.”

“She’s all yours,” Alfred said. He nodded to her and released her hand. She returned his nod, a silent acceptance of his beautiful words, before joining Bruce on the dance floor. 

 ———

 Bruce sighed as he collapsed back against the seat of the limo. 

Tonight had been a success, and it felt good to have resurrected a positive facet of his parents’ legacy. But he’d not exactly been in his element. Mingling with the crowd of business magnates, celebrities and politicians that made up Gotham’s elite had been torturous. 

He’d have rather taken on a gang of twenty thugs in a fight. 

But the money had flowed in, and it was all going to a worthy cause. Bruce Wayne was good for something, after all. He didn’t have to ignore that part of his life in order to change the city. He could embrace it, and take on the filth corrupting Gotham from both angles - in the light of day, and the dark of night.

With Beth by his side for both. 

He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed gently. “Thank you,” he said. “For putting up with this tonight. I know it can’t have been much fun.”

She tilted her head to regard him fondly. “You don’t have to thank me. You know I’d do anything for you. Besides,” she continued, “I should be thanking you.”

“What for?”

“For the charity you picked for tonight. It didn’t feel like a coincidence.”

She was right - it wasn’t. When Alfred had given him the list of potential organisations to honour tonight, one had stood out above all the rest. 

A shelter for women and children fleeing abuse. 

A shelter which could have helped Beth and her mom all those years ago, had they made it to Gotham together. 

He shrugged at her thanks, and returned her words. “I’d do anything for you.”

She smiled at him as she fished her phone out of her clutch. 

Another thing he’d learned about Beth? She was a bit of a workaholic - even in her downtime, she couldn’t resist checking her emails. 

He tilted his head on the headrest and watched her scroll through the device, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth in concentration. The lights of the passing city bathed her in a flickering glow as Alfred drove them back to the tower. 

A quick intake of breath caught his attention. “Something wrong?” he asked

“I got a reply from my aunt. She wants to meet me.”

 ———

 A couple of months ago, Beth had made the decision to contact her mother’s family. 

It was born of an orphan’s desire to connect to the people who shared her blood - people who weren’t murderous sociopath’s named Montrose. But it was also for her mother’s benefit; Beth had managed to find her grave in a small plot in Gotham’s cemetery reserved for unidentified remains. She wanted her mother moved to a proper resting place, with a fitting headstone…and her family deserved to be part of that process. 

Tracking down the surviving members of the Parker family - her mother’s sister and a few cousins - had been relatively easy.  A much harder task was contacting them out of the blue. Beth had settled on sending a long email, detailing her story and what she remembered of her mother. And her death.

She’d agonised over the wording for weeks, finally sending the missive just a few days ago. 

And now she had a reply. 

Beth paced the underground lair, her high-heeled shoes clacking on the concrete ground and echoing beneath the sweeping staircase. The heavy silk skirt of her ballgown swished audibly as she traced a route back and forth in front of Bruce’s car. 

He finished strapping on his gauntlets, and caught her arm as she passed. “Beth stop. Why are you so anxious? You had to know they’d want to meet you.”

She took a deep breath. “There’s knowing in the abstract, and then knowing. You know?”

He laughed softly. “I guess.”

“I’m just…I’m worried they’ll hate me. That they’ll blame me. She only stayed with that horrible man because of me. She died because of me.”

“Hey.” He swept her into his arms and rubbed her back. “You were just a child. And she was your mother. She wouldn’t have blamed you for any of it, and neither will they. They want to meet you because you’re family. This is a good thing.”

He felt her nod against his chest. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous. Blame it on exhaustion.” 

To punctuate her words, she yawned and sagged against him. It was close to 3am, so it was no wonder she was dead on her feet. “You should head up to bed. I’ll be home in a few hours - I just want to follow up on that lead on the drug dealer from last night.”

She stepped out of his embrace and leaned her weight against the workstation behind her. “Yeah. I’ll need a decent night’s sleep to sort out everything for the trip. I need to arrange time off work…and I’ll need to find a place to stay in New York, in case things are too awkward at the family home-”

“For us to stay,” he interjected.

“What?” She sounded confused.

“I’m going with you.”

She gaped at him. “I- I just assumed…,” she stuttered. 

“That I would let you go alone? That I would make you face that alone?”

“But when’s the last time you left Gotham, even for a night?”

She had a point. It had been years - a lot of years. But that didn’t matter. “The city can survive for a couple of weeks without me.”

She still looked shocked. “I can’t believe you would do that.”

“Beth…I’d do anything for you. Remember?”

Two days later…he proved it. 

He stood in the foyer of the penthouse, suitcases at his feet, waiting for Beth to join him. 

“Remember to call if there’s an emergency,” he reminded Alfred, who waited beside him. “I’ve set up an alert system on the police scanner downstairs - if there’s a major incident, you’ll get an early warning, so you can let me know-”

“I know, Bruce,” Alfred said patiently. “You’ve told me a million times. Things will be fine here. Enjoy your vacation.”

“Vacation,” Bruce repeated with a disbelieving laugh. 

“Yes, a vacation. Try to put Gotham out of your head and just live in the moment. Enjoy the sunshine - that’s the warm, light stuff that comes down from the sky during the day.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Alfred’s sarcasm, but the older man just smiled in response.

Just then, Beth came skipping down the stairs in a flowery sundress, waving her sunglasses above her head. “I found them,” she called out. 

“I guess we’re off,” Bruce said to Alfred. He pressed the call button for the elevator and ushered Beth inside, following her with their luggage. As the doors slid closed, the last thing he saw was Alfred waving goodbye, a proud, delighted expression his face.

In the parking garage, Bruce steered Beth to his vintage corvette. They’d decided to make the journey into a road trip instead of taking one of his private jets. It would be just them, the open road, and 300 horsepower beneath their feet. 

But she stopped dead at the sight of the car. “We’re taking this?” she asked, her voice squeaking with surprise.

“Well, I figured the ‘batmobile’ would be a little conspicuous,” he replied. She still insisted on referring to his car by that awful moniker…and to his consternation, he was starting to as well. 

“And this isn’t?!" she cried. "It’s a 1963 split window corvette - one of the most rare and collectible cars on the planet! Its gotta be worth, what, a half a million dollars?”

“About that,” Bruce shrugged. 

“And you want to take it on a road trip? Are you insane?”

He just laughed as he stowed the luggage in the trunk. “It’s a car, Beth. Cars are made for driving and enjoying.”

She bit her lip, looking anxious. He couldn’t resist teasing her. “I was going to let you do most of the driving…but if you’d rather we just took your car, or rented a Volvo from the nearest Hertz, we can do that instead…”

Her head flew up. “No! No, no, we can take this!” She snatched the keys from his hand, as if worried he’d change his mind. She opened the driver’s side door and settled into the seat. She smoothed her hands over the steering wheel, and glided her fingers over the leather-covered dashboard. Any potential damage to the car would be worth it after seeing her obvious joy and reverence.

She put the key in the ignition, but paused before turning it. “Are you sure? Really sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe you’d let me drive this.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

It was becoming their mantra - the guiding principle of their relationship. 

They both recognised how precious their connection was. How rare and hard-won it was, after all the set backs and misunderstandings. They’d fought to be with each other, overcoming decades of fears and insecurities. 

And they would continue to fight, making sacrifices both big and small - like injecting a needle, or attending a public event…or leaving the city. 

Acts of concession, made with love. 

To preserve the gift they’d been given. 

Beth turned the key and the engine roared to life. Bruce settled back in his seat, ready to enjoy the ride.

-----

Taglist: @hollandorks @grunge-n-roses5 @xmxrfx @neptunesands @caramelcandescence  @blossomedfloweroflove @wanderdreamer @angelsarecallin @stephenismyking @rabbitdictionary @starshipvelociraptor @yanna-banana @batmanlovesnirvana  @bees-fart-too @hypnoash @eravanaaaah @anescapistreality @beigetrash @shimmeringgrim @battinsonbaby​ @blue-aconite

[realcube]

characters dealing with a deep sleeper! s/o  (_　_)。゜zｚＺ

characters: bokuto, oikawa & saiki k 

tw// swearing, fluff, mentions of death, illness, funerals, sexual references 

Kōtarō Bokuto

he literally thought you died 

this was your first time sleeping over at his home and last night, y’all were stuffing your faces with treats until your stomachs ached

you had mentioned several times how you were feeling sick - even after bokuto took you out for a late-night run - but he just told you to take a pain-killer and sleep it off

but now he was kinda regretting not calling someone to help 

like what if the sickness was a symptom to a deadly disease which took you overnight?

plus, he had tried everything he could think of to wake you up: he shook you, he blasted music from his phone, he opened the curtains to allow blinding light to shine on you, he flicked spits of cold water onto your face and he literally wafted cookies around the room in hopes you’d catch the scent 

but it was no use as even after all that, you didn’t move an inch

he tried to check your pulse which he believed to be on the wrist but he couldn’t think it 

so either he was too stupid to find the exact location or......you didn’t have a pulse

he’ll admit, it was an eerie thought that there could be a dead person in his bed rn but even he considered that a rather outlandish idea 

how could a person as healthy as you just die overnight? so he did what any reasonable person would do in that situation-- no, not call a doctor

he held a funeral for his beloved s/o 💀

he gathered all five of the plushies laying around his room (all of which were owls) and lined them up on the foot of the bed 

‘we are all gathered here today to celebrate the epic life of my partner, (y/n) (l/n).’ he sobbed into the sleeve of the black blazer he had pulled out of his closet, ‘gone too soon.’

silence. but in his mind he was met by a chorus of ‘aww’s and whimpers from the crowd

‘i loved them. (y/n) was my rock; they helped me through some of the hardest points in my life--’

his speech was cut off upon hearing one of the audience members pipe up, ‘bo, what are you doing?’

a wave of excitement washed over him as he scurried up to the line of guests, closely examining each one, ‘i didn’t know y’all could talk!’

you rolled your eyes before leaning forward and gently tapping the back of his head, ‘it’s me.’

upon laying his eyes on you, healthy and alive, his lips curled into a foolishly large grin as he immediately pulled you into a tight hug, ‘(Y/N), you’re alive!’ he cried

you gasped at his rather dramatic reaction before slowly melting into his embrace, ‘yes, i am.’

as your lips parted from the skin of his jaw and he slowly let his arms fall from your waist, you finally inquired, ‘did you hold a funeral for me?’

bokuto’s eyes-widened at your ‘crazy’ suggestion, ‘uhhhh, nooooo.’

if his elongating of each word wasn’t enough to show that he was lying, the dead giveaway would have to be the sheet of A4 paper with ‘(Y/N)’S FUNERAL 😭’ written on it that was stuck to the door with blu-tac

ignoring his completely false reply, you leaned back on the bed and picked up on the owl plushies, gently stroking it’s soft fur, ‘are these the guests? why are there only five?’

bokuto shrugged, picking up one himself and absentmindedly attempting to balance it on your head, ‘seven; if you count me and you.’

you giggled, about to make a inquire about the names of each guest until bokuto suddenly through his arms around you again 

‘why didn’t you tell me that you are such a deep-sleeper before?! i was so worried - i thought you died! please never die on me again, (y/n)?’

you smiled, pulling back to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, ‘i promise.’

Tōru Oikawa

he would take advantage of this opportunity lol

the first time y’all slept over together as a couple, he had no idea that you were as deep of a sleeper as you actually are

like he thought you meant ‘i sometimes sleep through my alarms’ deep-sleeper

NOT ‘IT TAKES A WHOLE NATURAL DISASTER TO WAKE ME UP IN THE MORNING’ DEEP-SLEEPER (/h)

anyway, at first, he’d probably just freshen up while you sleep: take a shower, wash his face, brush his teeth, floss etc so he’s no longer effected by that ✨morning crust ✨

but when he pokes his head out of the bathroom and noticed that your sleep asleep, he tries to blow-dry his hair bc he knows how much you like it when it’s all fluffy

but his blow-dryer was quite loud so he put it on for a few seconds to see if it’s wake you up and just as he expected, you were still sound asleep

so he blew-dry his hair until it was that soft texture that you liked so much- all while you were still like (∪.∪ )...zzz even though the blow-dryer was making a racket 

you were still sleeping and upon looking at the time, he realised that it was completely fair considering it was currently half past 8 and he had just woken up extremely early for some unknown reason

he didn’t want to wake you so he was just doing to go out for a run or make breakfast until he caught a glimpse of himself in mirror

o.O

despite his  puffy hair and pearly-white smile, he still looked sloppy

but it was definitely bc of his stained, torn, washed-out pyjamas tbh

he was just wearing an old T-shirt that he’s had for god-knows how long and a pair of grey sweatpants; it wasn’t a look

he had no idea what possessed him to wear such casual nightwear while you were at his house - especially when you chose to wear something so relaxed yet titillating - but he knew that he needed to change

after a while of rummaging through his nightwear drawer, the best he could find was a pair of white, silk, loose-legged trousers which he had bought for a halloween costume many years ago

it was pretty classy though :)) he was sure that you’d like it 

however, he still couldn’t find anything to wear on his top half but there is no fashion problem oikawa can’t solve 

thus, he went shirtless ( •�� ω •́ )✧

he also threw on some jewellery too, just for the lols

you weren’t awake yet thought, so after he set up some candles to create a ‘mood’, he just sat next to you on the bed, scrolling on his phone and anticipating your reaction once you woke up

for a moment, he thought that he might’ve went when too far but upon taking a look at himself in his front-facing camera, he realised that there was no harm in spicing things up

once he noticed one of your eyes slowly flutter open, he quickly tossed his phone to the side and turned his body to face you, shooting you a kind smile and he gently ran a hand through his fluffy hair, ‘morning, angel~’ he cooed

you grumbled your greeting in response, then proceeded to rub your eyes to make sure you were seeing him correctly, ‘what are you wearing, tōru?’

‘can a guy not dress up for his special someone anymore?’

you rolled your eyes, playfully slapping his chest and going to hop out of bed until he pulled you back down against the sheets

a faint gasp escaped your lips but you were quickly hushed by oikawa pushing his finger against your lips, ‘you’re not going anywhere, (y/n).’

Kusuo Saiki

this was the first time you ever slept over at his house or next to him yet y’all had been dating for year and a half

he was just scared that he might accidently do something crazy in his sleep (bc of his powers ofc) and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you 🥺

you were patient with him though but bc y’all had never woken up together before, he had no idea how deep of a sleeper you are

he thought it was cute at first bc you were laying there like the beauty you are, lookin’ all serene and calm and stuff

but after a while, he got bored on his own  #•̀ ︿ •́

also, you promised to bake macarons with him for breakfast and he was hungry as hell, still he didn’t want to eat without you but if he didn’t wake you up rn to make macarons, he’d surely starve to death while they were in the fridge

on any other day, he’d just try do it himself but when you helped him make food- it just hit different 😍

‘(y/n), wake up.’  he spoke into your mind using his telepathy, while light nudging your arm, ‘i’m hungry.’

you didn’t reply, seeming completely knocked out

he tried the next best thing, holding his annoying alarm noise near (but not too close) to your ear

still nothing, though

his last human attempt was aggressively pulling your blanket away but even after that you showed no signs of waking up so he realised that he’d have to resort to using his physic abilities

he considered using his astral projection to possess your body but he felt as though taking over your body might cross a few boundaries 

but he did try duplicating himself so he could shake you from many different angles but it was still no use

he continued to use his telepathy to try wake you up but it didn’t seem to work either

after multiple different attempts of using his powers to try wake you up; here he was, standing in the middle of some dystopian, apocalyptic scene - alarms ringing in the distant along with sirens, screaming, honking and wails. everything around him seemed to be engulfed by flames which created thick, smoky air 

he wasn’t really sure how he got here but he was pretty sure it started around the time he tried to form an energy ball 

whatever 🤷‍♂️ it’s no biggie

he jumped back in time so he was standing next to your bed once again, exactly where he left off before he created the energy ball

he stared down at your sleeping figure and let out an exasperated sigh as he realised that he’d have to employ one of his most dangerous tactics

he really hoped it didn’t have to come to this

‘(y/n), if you get up right now.’ his voice rung through your head, ‘i speak with my voice.’

just like that, both of your eyes shot open as you hastily sat up on the bed

‘do it, saiki!’ you cheered, a foolishly large grin plastered on your features

and he couldn’t help but smile too 

curse you for being so cute

[spikesbimbo]

Needy

first fic I've ever wrote. :/

Summary: Bby boy Ushi needs some love and affection and your more than willing to give it to him, and you have some help too

Pairing: Ushijima x Reader X Tendou

Tags: MLM, Poly, Daddy kink, creampie, slight cnc, squirting, dirty talk, praise, threesome, oral sex, cum eating, nipple piercings, (lemme know if left anything out.)

Word Count: 3.3k

18+ Minors DNI

Ushi rarely initiates sex when he has the both of you jumping him 24/7 but today he was needy, after a long day of practice he just wanted some physical affection.

But when you greeted him with a big shirt on, leaving him to guess if there was anything underneath, and him confirming it was nothing due to your heart shaped nipple piercing poking out, it made him flustered

30 mins into both you watching TV on the couch all he could think about was you, your fingers ghosting over his lips getting sticky with his saliva while feeding him the leftovers of the food you worked so hard to prepare for your two boys.

He knew he should be thinking about you this way when you’re doing something so innocent and sweet, but he couldn’t ignore the impure thoughts and the growing bulge in his pants, and neither could you.

“You okay daddy?” You asked knowing exactly what he needs.

He looked at you for a minute just staring, thinking if he just heard you say that word or it was his deluded brain playing games on him.

“What’d you say?” He hums leaning down to see you eye level seeing your glossy eyes looking back at him.

“I said… are you okay daddy?” But he didn’t just hear the sweet and softness of your voice, he also heard the desire of your voice, the same voice that would cry out in bed begging to be stuffed full, the same voice that would wake him up in the middle of the night when you complained that “your cunny was too wet” with your glowing red cheeks, and of course him and Tori would take care of that, of you, their precious little baby.

“Yes, I’m fine” He replied hoping that this feeling would leave him soon.

“Really… because you don’t look like your doing fine” You started. “In fact, you look like your having some issues” You whispered in his ear.

“Ushi, baby, you can tell me what you need” You continued, now dragging you fingers on his thigh, getting closer to his dick by the second.

“You know I’m always there for you” “In anyway…” You finished with that alluring in your voice.

Great. All his stress and stamina building up from practice and coming home to see you in that shirt, his shirt that doesn’t leave much to the imagine got him hard. So incredibly hard, not the morning wood hard or he can take care of himself in the bathroom hard, but he needed to get his dick wet hard. Like right now hard. And of course, being the good girl you were, you were here to ease his needs.

“Toshi!” You squealed as he picked you up. Him not bothering to reply as he headed towards your bedroom.

You let out a little yelp as he threw you on the bed. You watched him take off his clothes and looked at him in awe, looking at his perfectly built body not realizing how strong he was, but you could take it. You lived to please them.

“Daddy!” You cried as he was already trying to insert himself into you, not even bothering to take your his shirt off.

“Daddy no!” You whimpered.

“You can take it. You always have and look at you” he said referring to the slick dripping out of you.

And you couldn’t deny that you were in fact wet, how could you not be when you’re constantly daydreaming about both of your men.

“Look at me” he ordered while throwing your legs on this shoulders and forcing you look up to see his lust filled gaze then looking down along with you to see him lining his cock up with your little cunt.

“Fuck” he mumbled as he slowly pushed it in. With you gripping his biceps hard enough to leave nail imprints on him that’ll definitely get him teased for in the locker room later. But all he could think about was how tight you were, even after taking him and Tori multiple times you never loosened up.

“Ushi” You whined, tears running down your face and fuck did he find that hot. Was it wrong to like seeing your partner cry? You told him before it was from pleasure and you guys had a safe word just in case, but it set something off inside him, something feral.

He starts thrusting into you, slowly at first but getting rougher and faster each time, leaving you begging for more.

“Please” You hiccup. He ignores you just going harder. His grunts were music to your ears, letting you know you were doing a good job making your heart swell.  Your shirt was riding up with every thrust until it reached above your breasts, feeling the cool air hit them.

You couldn’t even think to take it off, you couldn’t even think about anything how full you felt. He bent down until his face was in your neck, making your legs open more reaching deeper inside you. You moans drowning out any other sound.

“Having fun without me?” You quickly turned your head and saw your other boyfriend, the other love of your life.

Ushi ignored him, while he kept ramming into you causing you to let out muffled whines. You could barely see him from your watery eyes and Ushi’s arm blocking your view, but you missed him so much.

“Tori” You call, trying to make grabby hands at him, getting cut off by a moan.

Toshi raised his head up until his face was just above yours, taking notice of the other man but being to focused on your little cunt to care.

“Aww baby you gonna ignore me?” Satori said walking up to both of you talking to Ushi and not getting a response.

“Hmm?” He said grabbing onto Ushi’s locks pulling his head back enough to see him. You watching the scene unfold in front of you, making you clench even more around him.

You never really got intimate with just one another, it was always the three of you, making sure no one felt left out or unappreciated. But of course, this situation has happened before. One time even leaving you crying after you walked in on them because you felt like they didn’t even love or care about you, but of course it was just a bad day getting to you. And they immediately stopped once they noticed you crying and naturally Tori ran over to you, naked and sweaty as can be, and pulled you into a hug. But that was a whole different story.

Toshi stopped fucking you and looked at the man letting go of his hair. Tendou quickly assessed the situation before him. You in a mess, and Ushijima balls deep in you.

“Aw, he didn’t even take his shirt off you…poor baby”

Tendou was the mediator among you three, Ushijima was not the brightest with foreplay or more intimate actions and you were a little baby, doing whatever they pleased, no backbone. You got off on pleasing them.Tendou usually did the foreplay, even dragging it out more than them fucking you. So, it was no surprise that Ushijima took you with barely any prep.

“Fuck baby your so wet” Tendou said, you blushing at his words.

“…You like pain don’t ya” He gathered from you dripping down his balls even though he was using you to get off and not exactly having sex with you.

You now even more embarrassed trying to hide your face in Ushi’s arm. “Y-yes Tori.” You mumbled, hiding your eyes from Tendou and Ushi looking right down at you.

“Hmm?” he let out, pushing you further, living for the red appearing on your cheeks while Ushijima got harder inside you making you let out a whine.

“Y-yes!” You stated forcing yourself to look Tori in his eyes. You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before Ushi started pounding into you once again, making you let out a muffled squeal. Your vision became blurry again from the tears that started running and the force he was fucking into you with making the whole bed shake.

You didn’t even know Tendou took all his clothes off until you opened your eyes and saw him kissing Ushi, their naked forms making you squirm under him. Your whines got their attention, Satori detached his lips from his and turned his attention towards you.

“Aww, don’t worry baby we didn’t forget about you” he said leaning down to kiss you. He knew how much you loved kissing, how much it got you worked up more than anything else. Your muffled moans were breaking into the kiss. He knew it hurt, he’d usually go for an hour trying to get you ready for him, and it still barely fit. But the look it your eyes said something else, so how could he not tease you.

“Shh, baby it’s okay” He coddled you, your poor little pussy getting destroyed as Ushi rammed into your cervix, making your whole body jump. He turned his attention back to Ushi, kissing down his neck leaving hickeys, another thing he would get teased about in the locker room, then taking his nipple into his mouth making Ushi let out a low groan.

“Fuck, you hear yourself?” He said, now rubbing Toshi’s nipples between his fingers.

You didn’t even know you you’d being letting out such lewd sounds until he told you, now muffling them because you were embarrassed of them. Which he took notice of.

He focused back on you, shoving his way between you and Ushijima. “Lemme hear them pretty moans” he said taking your clit into his mouth while Toshi was still driving himself into you.

Both of your let out loud moans, while Tori was doing what he was best at, making you feel good.

He took his mouth off so he could get a better view and found your clit again with his fingers, making you orgasm around Toshi’s cock, loving the way you moaned for him and the dazed, lust filled way you looked at him and Ushijima

“You creamin on him, then it must feel good” he referred to your cunt gushing around Toshi’s cock, you could only moan in response.

He moved his fingers to your lips, knowing your oral fixation, and how you always had to be sucking on something whether it be their fingers or dick, and oh lord you sent Ushi into overdrive just putting his fingers in your mouth out of nowhere, making him blush, which was as hard as it seemed.

Tori continued trailing his fingers over them before you just took them in your mouth, making Ushi grow inside you.

“So impatient baby” He taunted.“ m’ sorry daddy “ You mumbled. Guilt pooled in your tummy, feeling like you disappointed him, like you weren’t their good girl. He would usually punish you, but it already looks like you’ve gone through enough today and what better way to distract you than feed your fixation.

“Open up doll.” He said and you did right away, prodding his fingers deeper in your mouth hitting the back of your throat without you gagging.

Fuck. He remembers when you first tried to give him and Ushi head, and how you could barely fit any of it in your mouth, and how far you’ve come being able to deep throat them making his dick get even harder. He took his fingers out and gave a few pumps to his cock the lined it up with your mouth. He noticed the gleam in your eyes, so happy to suck his dick, like it was you only purpose in life.

He slowly put it letting out a choked-out moan. Feeling the hot wetness of your mouth could make him cum at any second, but he wanted to have a little fun first.

“Good girl.” He let out once he settled in the back of your throat, the statement making all your worries go away. He gently started pushing himself in and out of your mouth until you go the hang of it.

Ushi moans looking at the sight before him of you gagging on Tendou’s dick. “Fuck” Ushi thought. As many positions as Tendou has had you in missionary was definitely his favorite. He could see your pretty face moan and distort because of him making and see your body bounce with his every move making his ego rise.

Satori noticed Ushijima’s heart eyes at the scene below him and he completely understood what was going through his head.

“Tell em’ you love him.” He leaned down and not so subtly whispered to you.

You didn’t even to told twice before you tried your best to express your love for the bigger man.

“T-toshi” you moaned choking on Tori’s cock, using his first name knowing that it would get him worked up. And it did making him let out a groan, leading Tendou to reattach himself to his lips.

“I-I” you tried to continue. Tori enjoying this, fucking your face ever harder, having both you and Ushi’s attention on him made him feel like a King.

“Come on baby, you can say it” He teasingly encouraged taking a break from his boyfriend’s lips.

“I- L-ov-v” You struggled saying trying to do your best.

“Look at her baby” He said grabbing Ushi’s face and forcing him to look at you fucking your little cunny on his cock while proclaiming your love. Making his brain freeze up, but his body working even harder.

“L-Lov-e y-ou!” You finished. Spit and drool coming out of your mouth dripping all over him. Making him cum in your mouth while letting gout a few curses and some filthy words.

He didn’t even get to take his cock all the way out of your mouth before Ushi was already in the position he started with, his face back in your neck pushing your legs further back to reach deep inside you again.You didn’t even get a break, before he started roughly hitting your cervix again, causing your lips to hang open the cum still in your mouth drippling out.

“You crying baby?” Tendou coos failing to snap you out of your headspace. Not getting a response he looks closer at you seeing your pretty eye lashses flutter with tears, making his heart swell.

“Yeah she’s crying” He states leaning to Ushijima.

“So pretty…” he said so fondly “Make her do it some more…” He says in Ushi’s ear, setting something off within him, somehow making him go even harder and deeper than possible. Leaving you crying out for more.

“Daddy please-e!” You sobbed out to both of them not knowing what for. And with pleasure Tendou moves to take care of you, how could he not when you were so pretty begging for them.

He leaves kisses all over you face before kissing the mess he made in your mouth, moaning into the kiss how much of a good girl you were for keeping it inside. But you were too fucked out to pay attention to anything but the feeling of one of your boyfriends’ dick ramming inside you.

He then moves back to Ushi kissing him with the cum still on his lips putting on a show for you making you clench around his cock.

He settles himself behind you, your back to his chest and rolls on of your pierced nipples with his fingers and grabs the other breast with his palm, telling how much him and Ushi loved them after that one time you nervously admitted that you were insecure that your boobs were on the smaller size, and after that he wouldn’t leave them alone, telling you how pretty they were and how him and Ushijima love everything about you, since Ushi wasn’t the best at expressing himself.  

One boyfriend making you see stars and the other whispering endless praise into your ear and knowing the fact that they love you and want you this much sends your body into overload making you spit out a flood of moans.

“Yeah...he’s fucking you good baby, huh?” Tendou mocked. Kissin the tears off your face still playing with your breasts.

“yeah, ye-eah, ...yes please” You softly choked out.“

So polite…even when you’re getting fucked stupid” “Tori!” You whined.“

Yeah? You gonna cum?” He questioned, laughing at the state you were in.

“i-im’gon-nna cum!” You cried as you felt the heat in your tummy growing. “yeah...yeah! Ushi, please!”

“Fuck y/n, youre so tight” He hisses knowing that he was coming close too.

“I’m gonna make a mess Toshi! You cried feeling the orgasm, your cunt clenching around him, one hand gripping onto his arm the other squeezing Tori’s hand. You cum all over him and yourself, some sinking in the sheets. Heat rising up your spine to your face, Ushi still fucking you into overstimulation, burying his cock into you.

“Fuck y/n im bout to cum”

“Where you want him to cum doll” Tori asks already knowing. But still decides to do you the favor. But his words went in one ear and out the other. Your adrift mind only feeling overwhelmed.“

Shh baby relax” He softly said to you trying to gain your attention, but it still wasn’t working.

 “Can you answer me doll?” He said tilting your head up to look at him.“I-inside.” You finally replied.

“Yeah? You want him to make a mess in their honey?” You quickly nod not being able to get any words out.

“You heard her.” He said to the other man finally setting him off.He falls on you, his face now on your chest him catching his breath while telling you how good you felt.

“Fuck!” Tendou said admiring the mess you made your sloppy hole clenching round nothing , you made her squirt.

The three of you just lay there for a few minutes or 30 minutes. You couldn’t tell. You broke the silence by saying how cute Ushi was acting like a baby snuggled up in your chest, while giving him a peck on his forehead. Before turning your attention towards your other man.

You try to get the words out as loudly as you can with your course voice hurting. “Love you Tori.” You attempt to say making his heart dance.

“Love you too doll, both of you.”

“You awake Ushi?” you asked playing with his hair. All you got back was a groan, making you and Tori giggle.

“Ushi… baby” “Yes” He responds with his voice being muffled by your skin.

“You know you can always tell us when you feel needy, right? We wont judge.” You voice.

“Yeah baby” Tendou adds on. “We don’t mind.” Ushijima responds with an “ok.” Now facing you, but still leaning against you

“Let’s take a bath.” Tendou says while both giving you a kiss on the cheek and forehead.You both say nothing but you both move from you position. Your exposed skin feeling cold to the air, feeling sticky from the sweat and cum.

Tori and Ushijima get up and start moving the bathroom and you try to follow but you legs can barely function and you’re already sore down there. Luckily Tendou notices your poor little self.

“You gonna pick her up?” He said referring to your fucked out limp state.

“Oh yeah” Ushijima says with his deadpan voice, walking over to you and giving you a peck on our forehead before throwing you over his shoulder. Cue you and Tendou laughing at the position you were in while Ushi’s face stays blank.

“No, like this.” Tendou demonstrates showing him how to properly hold you like the baby you were. Ushijima moved one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back, before walking to the bathroom to finally relax.

[gayfrasier]

anyways. the vision for the mulcahy gay awakening episode is this:

we open on a stormy night in the officer's club, with a light teasing of mulcahy and his god-enforced celibacy by bj and hawk, as the two try to get him to admit a nurse is hot. mulcahy hums and haws and says they all look very pretty, but he truly would never as his devotion to god simply overrides any desires. they drop the subject entirely and radar bursts in, soaking wet, commenting on the strength of the storm and how he thinks there's gonna be a lot of debris, blocking the roads. they have some chit chat, with them remarking on the patients in post-op needing to get transferred to tokyo general, and how they worry it'll get postponed in the storm. scene ends with an accident right outside as they rush the victims into surgery. cue intro.

we come back and discover they're out of free beds in post-op because of the accident victims, so they need to move some people out. mulcahy offers a cot in his tent like the good little catholic he is, and they decide to move some guy in there. this is the love interest and its VERY IMPORTANT he is not sexy. he needs to be just some guy. some dude who isn't a charmer or a cassanova or whatever, a normal ass regular dude. the B-plot has something to do with the accident and rizzo being pissy cause they ruined one of his jeeps or whatever, i don't really know but its light hearted and comedic. ANYWAYS.

for the romance, it begins with them trying to manuever around one another while living in the same space. the love interest (who will be referred to as the guy from now on) had shrapnel to his thigh so he's relatively bed ridden. he's dealing with the idea that his leg will never quite be the same, but it's manifesting as a kind of indifference towards life. in the morning, the guy catches mulcahy doing some morning.. prayer or bible reading or whatever and he watches him, startling mulcahy. they have a short talk, the guy says he was raised catholic but he left the faith and now maintains his own idea of divinity and faith. it is here that he alludes to leaving the church because of its views of homosexuality and mulcahy assures him that isn't an issue to him at all, that god would always love him. the guy is skeptical and teases mulcahy a little. there is a charged moment. scene ends.

they go to the mess tent for some food, with mulcahy helping him through the rain and everything. their tentative friendship has developed where they crack jokes in line and sit next to eachother at the table. hawk and bj tease mulcahy a little about his newfound extroversion, he gets embarassed and excuses himself. the guy looks after him concerned and shoots a weird look at hawkeye. he gets up to follow him, hobbling a little. margaret attempts to help him but he brushes it off. the remaining characters just kinda sit there stunned when the b-plot bursts back onto the scene

next, it's later, and the guy has to change the bandages on his thigh. mulcahy offers to get one of the nurses or surgeons to do it, but the guy says not to bother them as it's still raining, he just needs a little help raising his thigh and everything, beckoning mulcahy forward. they change the bandages. another charged moment. mulcahy tries to diffuse the situation by cracking a dumb joke but the guy is just looking at him. he looks back. they kiss. mulcahy indluges for like 2 seconds and then he pulls away and starts to freak tf out. the guy tries to diffuse the situation, but mulcahy grabs his coat and leaves into the rain. scene ends.

more... b-plot things. i dont know. we do find out that the patients needed to be transferred are going back tomorrow afternoon. but, before commercial break we cut back to mulcahy's tent. the guy is sitting on his cot worried when mulcahy suddenly rushes back in, soaking wet, and then the sex scene happens. i mean it doesnt really happen. but we know it does yknow? THEN we cut to commercial.

we come back to the two lying together afterwards, mulcahy with a pensive look on his face. the guy asks penny for your thoughts and mulcahy confesses that he has made the biggest mistake of his life. the guy gets offended, argument ensues. it escalates, the guy insults his religion if it could deny him something as beautiful as what they shared, mulcahy defends his faith with tooth and nail, and says that he isn't gay. the guy goes right. of course you aren't. and then leaves to see if he can get one of the nurses or something to change his bandages. mulcahy sits on the cot in silence after he leaves. scene ends.

we end the episode with mulcahy reflecting on the experience, realizing that the guy left him a note in his bible. he reads it alone in his tent, it's a sweet love letter, saying that no matter what mulcahy believes, he will always maintain his feelings. mulcahy tears up. episode ends.

[stalwartsandall]

Spuffy Dates (of the calendar variety)

I’m trying to come up with a canon-compliant timeline for Buffy & Spike’s relationship (at least the part where they’re sleeping together) in season six.

This exercise is, in many ways, pointless. BtVS has notoriously lax continuity, and its timeline was clearly intended to be viewed with a laissez-faire squint rather than precision focus. But my current fic requires a locked time frame for their relationship, and I wanted to start with a solid base... so I’m trying to make it work.

Anyway, after playing around with the dates, I’ve come up with a relationship duration of 4 months and 19 days (from Smashed to As You Were). And this calendar:

My maths/inferences/suppositions/conclusions under the cut...

I started with the three episodes in season six for which we have firmly locked dates:

All the Way is on Halloween: Oct 31st, 2001

Older and Far Away is on Buffy’s birthday (Capricorn on the cusp of Aquarius): Jan 16th–19th, 2002

Tara dies during Seeing Red, and the date of her death is visible on her gravestone: May 7th, 2002.

From there, I made some assumptions...

Once More, With Feeling

In the opening scene, Tara finds the sprig of lethe's bramble that Willow placed under her pillow in All the Way. From that we can infer that it's probably days—certainly not more than a week or so—since All the Way.

Giles asks if Buffy has spoken to Dawn about the incident on Halloween. Again, implies that the events of All the Way took place recently.

The episode takes place over three days. Dawn goes to school on day two; day two is therefore a weekday. Buffy makes a joke on day three about it being Tuesday. Doesn't mean it has to be Tuesday, but it hints that it is.

The airdate is Nov 6th, and Whedon liked (where possible) to line up airdates and Sunnydale dates.

Conclusion: I'm placing it on the calendar as running from the night of Sunday, November 4th, to the night of Tuesday, November 6th. (And now I have a headcanon that Giles spent some time researching a flame-y Guy Fawkes Night connection on the 5th.)

Tabula Rasa

Near the open of the episode, the Scoobies convene to talk about Buffy's “I think I was in heeeeaaaaaaven” revelation. It feels like this is their first lengthy talk about the revelation and that the revelation is very recent (within days).

Buffy and Spike meet for the first time since their kiss in OMWF. Again there’s of feeling that the kiss is very recent history.

Basically, while there are no solid day/date markers in the episode, there's definitely a pervading sense that not much time has passed since OMWF.

Takes place over two days. Day two has to be a weekend because Dawn isn't in school.

Conclusion: I've placed the first night on Friday, November. 9th. This feels right: the Scoobies taking a few days after OMWF to process the information, and then meeting after work/school on the Friday night to discuss what to do next.

Smashed

In the alleyway after the mugging, Spike says, "Get a fella's motor revvin', let the tension marinate a couple of days, then bam... crown yourself the ice queen."

Outside the museum, Spike refers to their kiss as being "the other night."

Basically, from Spike's comments, we can comfortably infer that it's been a few days since their kiss in Tabula Rasa.

The episode takes place over two days, and day two has to be a weekend because Dawn & Tara are having a movie-and-milkshake fun day. And (since Wrecked follows on immediately and also has to start on a weekend) we know that Smashed must take place on a Friday and Saturday.

Conclusion: I've placed it on the calendar the weekend after Tabula Rasa: Friday 16th and Saturday 17th of November.

Wrecked

Follows Smashed directly.

Takes place over two days. Day one starts with Dawn & Tara waking to cartoons and Buffy & Spike waking in the destroyed house. We see Willow and Buffy come home. Willow sleeps all day and then goes to Rack's that night. The next day, in the evening, Willow takes Dawn to Rack's and crashes the car.

Day two of Wrecked is the last time Willow casts a spell before going on the wagon. This becomes relevant later.

(Irrelevant side note... while they are out searching for Rack, Spike and Buffy refer to the night they had sex as "last night." Actually, it was the night before last.)

Conclusion: Wrecked goes on the calendar as Sunday 18th and Monday 19th of November.

Gone

My feeling (for two reasons) is that only a little time has passed since Wrecked. 

Firstly, there’s Dawn. She’s still wearing a cast on her fractured arm, and she is raw emotionally: distant and cold with Buffy and Willow.

Secondly, the episode opens with Buffy, Willow and Dawn packing away Willow's magical things, which leads me to presume it is quite soon after Wrecked. My thinking: once you’ve identified that you have an addict in the house who is resolved to quit cold turkey, you don’t wait weeks to remove whatever they are addicted to from the house.

The episode takes place over two days. Doris, the social worker, tells us that day two is a Wednesday.

Conclusion: Since day two has to be a Wednesday and the episode has to be quite soon after Wrecked, I've put it on the calendar for Tuesday 27th and Wednesday 28th of November.

Doublemeat Palace

Takes place over at least three days: two main days and then Buffy's rehiring at the Doublemeat Palace on a later date (perhaps a day or days later).

Dawn doesn't have a cast on her arm. Even if she has healed fast (as kids tend to do), it's probably a minimum of three weeks since she broke her arm in Wrecked. The earliest possible date is therefore about the 10th of December.

There’s a line in the next episode, Dead Things, that is potentially relevant. In Dead Things, Willow tells Tara: “No spells for 32 days.” Now, the most logical interpretation of that line is that Willow means: It’s been 32 days since I’ve cast a spell. And I therefore initially tried to put 32 days between Dead Things and the last time Willow cast a spell: Wrecked. And that just doesn’t work. November 19th plus 32 days gives us: December 21st. And, for me, dating Dead Things as December 21st is a non-starter. If Dead Things were on December 21st that would mean Spike’s face (which is beaten by Buffy in Dead Things) is still badly bruised and swollen almost a full month later at Buffy’s birthday. That just doesn’t tally with what we’ve seen of vamp healing. My workaround: to assume that when Willow says “no spells” she is counting from the day that Amy cast a spell on her in Doublemeat Palace. Technically, that day was the last time Willow had a spell in her system, so it’s not completely implausible that she’d count from there. And that date slots in very conveniently.

Conclusion: I’m putting DMP on the calendar beginning Tuesday, 11th of December.

Caveat: If you ignore my iffy inference about the length of Willow’s magical abstinence, any date from the 10th to about the 31st of December makes sense.

Dead Things

Takes place over a minimum of four days. On day two, Katrina is out at a bar and Dawn is sleeping over at Janice's. I'm concluding that day two is therefore likely to be a Friday or Saturday.

There's a sense that a good chunk of time has passed since the previous episode. Buffy & Spike are now in a routine: "Isn't this usually the part where you kick me in the head and run out virtue fluttering?"

The best indication of a solid date is, as I mentioned above, Spike’s face. Buffy beats Spike to a pulp in this episode, and the damage is still visible in the next episode, Older and Far Away. Based on the speed of vamp healing, I think it’s therefore fair to assume that the episodes are fairly close together.

A gaffe to note: We see the Trio reading the coroner’s report on Katrina, and it is clearly dated February 5th, 2002. I was overly excited when I saw that because it felt like a solid, in-story date lock... and then I realised that it cannot be February because we haven’t had Buffy’s birthday yet. So, yeah, I think this has to be ruled a gaffe; production just used the airdate without much (or any) thought.

Conclusion: I'm placing Dead Things on the calendar from Friday, 11th of January, to Monday, 14th of January. This puts five days between the beating and Spike showing up bruised at Buffy's party.

Older and Far Away

Huzzah! An actual knowable date: Buffy's birthday, January 19th. Or, if you don’t want to trust that exact date because it was never confirmed onscreen, Capricorn on the cusp of Aquarius (aka Jan 16th - 19th).

Dawn goes to school on the day of the party. Since it has to be a weekday, I'm assuming it is a Friday.

Side note. Something that has always bugged me: The day after the party—the day they get stuck in the house—Willow & Tara have class, but there’s no mention of Dawn having school. Does UC Sunnydale have Saturday classes?

Conclusion: We know it has to be on or right around Buffy's birthday, so it's going on the calendar for Jan 17th to 19th.

This is sort of a dividing line in the season. From this point, it becomes necessary to work backwards from Seeing Red to work out dates.

As You Were

Takes place over two days. Day two is a school day.

Xander and Anya's wedding is stated as: a week away.

Conclusion: Approximately a week before Hell’s Bells gives us: Thursday 4th and Friday 5th of April.

Caveats & Counterarguments: The only thing anchoring this episode to the timeline is that it has to be a week prior to Hell’s Bells. Basically, if you shift Hell’s Bells, you shift this episode too. And as you’ll see below when I talk about Hell’s Bells, the date for Hell’s Bells is pretty flexible.

Hell’s Bells

Takes place over one day.

Presumably, since it's a wedding, it's a Saturday.

After Hell’s Bells, Xander leaves town and doesn't reappear until Normal Again. My feeling is that, if his absence were much more than a week, the gang would be more concerned.

Adding weight to the idea that there's not too much time between Hell’s Bells and Normal Again is Spike's conversation with Buffy about the wedding. It feels like the first time they’ve seen each other since the wedding, and he opens with an out-of-the-blue: "Did you cry?" The question would only be phrased that way if the wedding were quite recent.

Basically, I feel the inference is that it's been about a week or so since the wedding.

Conclusion: I'm placing Hell’s Bells eight days before Normal Again. Saturday, April 13th.

Caveats & Counterarguments: The date here is, obviously, supposition. It’s a best guess based on the feeling that about a week passes between this episode and the next. Could it be two weeks? Sure. Three weeks? I guess, theoretically. Four weeks? I don’t think so. Would Xander really disappear for a month without sending word? If he were gone a month, wouldn’t Willow & Buffy be more worried? And would a month go by without Spike & Buffy running into each other? And without Spike hearing through the grapevine that Xander had left Anya at the altar?

Perhaps my final conclusion should be: I find the 13th of April most likely. But the two previous Saturdays—March 30th and April 6th—are both also plausible.

Normal Again

Takes place over four days. On day two Tara is in class, so it's probably a weekday.

Buffy mentions in Entropy that the events of Normal Again were "last week," so Normal Again has to be set approximately a week before Entropy.

Conclusion: A week before Entropy (with day two being a weekday) would be Sunday 21st through Wednesday 24th of April.

Entropy

Takes place over three days.

On day two, Tara is in class, but Dawn is out with Buffy having a “sisters' day out.” Either Dawn has a random holiday or UC Sunnydale officially has Saturday classes.

On day three, Buffy mentions that it's the weekend.

Tara asks about Willow's injured neck, so yet further confirmation—if it were needed—of the short gap between Normal Again and Entropy.

Seeing Red picks up the day after Entropy.

Conclusion: Easy to lock in. The episode leads directly into Seeing Red, so it must be Friday 3rd to Sunday 5th of May.

Seeing Red

Takes place over two days.

Tara is shot on day two which, from her headstone, we know is May 7th 2002.

So, yeah, that's where I ended up. The gap between Older and Far Away and As You Were is huge, but working within the parameters of the fixed dates, it's the best I can come up with.

And, even if you wiggle and fudge the interstitial dates, as far as I can tell, the Spuffy relationship (or at least the stretch in which they’re sleeping together) has to be a minimum of four months and a maximum of five.

Anyone else tried a version of this? What have I skipped or miscalculated?

[glassessence]

Elriel Hint and Analysis - includes analysis of Feysand & Nessian (ACOSF Spoilers)

I’m pretty new to the fandom, but I am currently obsessed with Elriel. This is my ship and I will go down with it until the day I die. As a fairly casual reader, I honestly had zero doubts the next book would be Elain’s and that the couple would be Elriel. 

Then I discovered the existence of the extra POV chapters and Azriel’s threw me in for a bit of a loop. Especially with the ending (which I genuinely believe is a red herring. I lean very heavily into the lightsinger Gwyn theory).

However, stalking Tumblr made me come across this again: 

Life and death and rebirth

Sun and moon and dark

Rot and bloom and bones

Hello, sweet thing. Hello, lady of night, princess of decay. Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn. 

Love me, touch me, sing me.

And then my brain accidentally vomited an essay on the symbolism in each sister’s journey... 

Life and death and rebirth so clearly symbolise Feysand’s journey. Feyre leaves behind her life of poverty for a brand new one with Tamlin. She journeys Under the Mountain for love of him and ultimately succeeds in saving not just him, but all of them. In the process, she dies. Not just in the physical sense, but spiritually too. Feyre the human perishes, giving rise to Feyre the High Fae. In a purely physical sense, this is definitely a rebirth. But it’s stilted, incomplete. She’s the newly born phoenix - young, fragile and yet covered in the ashes of its fiery death. Her spiritual rebirth lags behind her newly changed body. Like a bird in a cage, she is trapped in Tamlin’s realm, unable to finish developing, to spread wings and fly. 

That all changes when she is whisked away to the Night Court. She learns to read and some of the ash falls from her body. She makes friends and some more ash is brushed away by the Inner Circle. The final remnants of ash are blown away by the taste of freedom and the kiss of wind, and Feyre’s rebirth is finally complete. Spiritually and physically, she is changed. She becomes Feyre the High Lady. From life back to life, she is returned through the power of love. Take note that while love is important in all the sisters’ journeys, it is the focal point and highlight of Feyre’s. She is someone who has never been loved in that wholesome, selfless way Rhysand loves her. Tamlin was possessive and abusive; Nesta was barbed and sharp. Elain was fragile and ethereal. Love was something she had never really known and consequently something she desperately, desperately needed. That’s why the phrase that symbolises her is love me.

Sun and moon and dark refers very much to Nessian. Nesta is the sun and she is burning. Has been burning for a long, long time. She is aflame, nothing but ashes inside, and her words are fire. She scalds anyone who dares approach, just as everything melts before the sun. Like Feyre, she has had her physical rebirth, but not her spiritual one. She is trapped in her own head, locked behind her own self-hatred, her own raging inferno that yields to no one. Like Feyre, she is also a phoenix, but one whose fire never stopped. In that sense, she has never died. Her spiritual rebirth is not simply incomplete; it has never happened.

Until she starts training with Cassian. Until she starts befriending Emerie and Gwyn. This is what marks the death of Nesta the human and the emergence of Nesta the High Fae. (I use the term ‘human’ loosely here, mostly as a way of conveying my point about her spiritual journey rather than the state of her physical being). She loses her solar flare, that inner blaze that was killing her and blackening her soul. She mellows from unapproachable sun to a softer moon. It’s here that she stays a while, seeming to progress and regress in her healing journey as the moon waxes and wanes. It’s not until the hiking scene that she finally breaks. She weeps despite Cassian’s expectations to the contrary. Through her tears, she finally extinguishes the long-raging fire and hatred that has been destroying her. No more blazing sun, no more wavering moon. Only darkness to cradle her, and acceptance. Through Cassian’s ceaseless efforts and her friends, her journey reaches its apex. She finally becomes Nesta the Valkyrie. 

Her journey hinges heavily upon the fact that nobody could reach her through the flames. Nobody had kept trying after getting burned again and again. Nobody except Cassian. He reaches out, time after time, even when she hurts him. Even when she burns him. Until he succeeds and touches her soul. That’s why the phrase that symbolises her is touch me.

Of course that leaves only the last line: rot and bloom and bones. I wonder who this could symbolise! Surely not the Archeron sister who is associated with roses and has a complicated romance dilemma with someone from the Autumn Court (rot) and someone else from the Night Court (bones)! Surely not!

Jokes aside, I strongly believe this line reveals Elain’s journey. If we continue thinking of the words as a progression, I think it makes a lot of sense. Keeping in mind the theme of life, death and rebirth, this is how I think of it: 

Life / Rot / stagnation, the start of the journey

Death / Bloom / change, the start of healing

Rebirth / Bones / ascendance and acceptance, the start of the future

There are several interesting things to note about the sentence: 

The word bloom is nestled among rot and bones

Elain’s two potential love interests both have strong associations with those words

I’ll address each point as we delve into Elain’s analysis. 

Let’s start with Elain the human. As previously established, this is when the character is at their worst, blind in the dark before the dawn. I see this as Elain’s forced transformation by the Cauldron. Everything she knows is ripped away from her and her marriage crumbled to dust. She is thrust into a world both unknown and at war. She emerges changed and cursed with powers she cannot control and does not understand. Her life, once a slow-blooming flower, has just rotted into nothing. She is lost, confused and deeply depressed. Her physical rebirth may be complete, but her spiritual rebirth cannot begin until she gathers the shattered pieces of herself back together.

This happens slowly. So slowly, in fact, that it’s hard to notice and easy to dismiss. She befriends Nuala and Cerridwen. Begins gardening again. Talks to the Inner Circle and buys them gifts for Solstice. Slowly, so very slowly, she is starting to piece herself back together. Off-page, she quietly unravels Elain the human and emerges from her cocoon as Elain the High Fae. Like a wilted flower that has dropped its petals, a new season has come, bringing with it new buds. She is blooming, opening herself to new possibilities for companionship, love and for a new self to rise to the surface. But blooms are fragile, newly born things. Elain hasn’t dealt with the full force of her trauma, of her lifelong lack of choice (I’m not going to delve into this as there are so many amazing analyses out there!). She is a trembling fawn, still trying to learn how to walk.

But her spiritual rebirth will remake her. Bones. It’s so different from the previous two words that it really leaves an impact. Blooms rot and fade. Flesh breaks and dies. But bones are strong, the frame that holds up our entire beings. Bones are unyielding and solid, taking no other shape like blood nor bruising like flesh. I see this as Elain standing up for herself, unswayed by external forces that have always governed her life and breaking away from the fragile flower people have always thought she was. By cutting away the rotting flesh, she will reveal the backbone beneath and ascend as Elain the Kingslayer/Seer. 

Of course, closely tied to each sister’s personal growth arc is her love interest. For me, I don’t see it going any other way than Azriel. 

SJM chose rot not only to represent the ‘life’ section of Elain’s personal journey, but also to represent Lucien. He has connections to the Autumn Court, a season that is often associated with decay and rot, but also with harvest and bounty. Highlighting the negative aspects of autumn invokes a strong sense of wrongness. Lucien is not right for her. Not to say anything bad about his character; he’s just not right for Elain. His presence in the books eats away at her newfound boldness; he rots away the path she is trying to carve for herself. 

On the other hand, Azriel is closely tied with death, with blood and bones and shadow. He’s not only Rhys’ spymaster, he’s also his torturer. His association is with bones, a word that invokes a sense of everlasting, of persevering beyond death. Bones is also used to describe the ‘rebirth’ section of Elain’s personal growth arc, the final aspect that leads to ascendance, and acceptance of one’s past and present. Meanwhile, bloom represents Elain herself and the ‘death’ portion of her story, the aspect that heralds change and healing. 

Rot, bloom and bones represent both her personal journey and her love interests. It’s all intrinsically linked. Lucien is ‘life’ and stagnation, Elain is ‘death’ and change, and Azriel is ‘rebirth’ and acceptance. As a progression, this is how I interpret the sentence: 

By rejecting the bond with Lucien, she is stepping into herself and forging something everlasting with Azriel.

Lastly, let’s not forget that the phrase symbolising her is sing me. This didn’t make much sense to me until I read Azriel’s bonus POV. In it, he confesses to Gwyn that he does sing. Why include this if it’s not a subtle callback to this prophetic paragraph in ACOMAF? It feels like a treat to hardcore fans who like finding all the little connections (since they’re the ones most likely to have read the bonus chapters). The fact that Gwyn also sings signals to me there’s an important plot point regarding song. Maybe homegirl Elain will be forced to throw a hardcore metal concert to save Az XD Wouldn’t that be a plot twist HAHAHA. 

I don’t know when SJM started planting seeds for Elriel in any serious capacity, so perhaps I am reading WAY too much into this. Either way, I am super keen for the next book!

Please feel free to comment and let me know your thoughts! I am desperate for Elriel right now hahaha. Thanks for reading! 

OH, BUT ONE MORE THING. 

The greetings are really interesting. Sweet thing obviously refers to Feyre. Lady of night and princess of decay are clearly meant for Nesta. 

Fanged beast and trembling fawn are left for Elain. It’s easy to write this off as being about her LI and herself, respectively, but I don’t know. The sentences build upon each other. A single moniker grows to two - the first separated by a comma, the second expanding to use an and. It’s something you see a lot in poetry, generally used to emphasise a point. I’m not entirely sure what the point is; it might just be a nice writing flourish, but wouldn’t it be interesting if both those statements were referring to Elain herself? Wouldn’t it just be juicy? 

[crimefightingspiderguy]

marry me

Summary: Shang-Chi and (Y/N) are best friends, but it's not enough. They want to be more, but can they be more?

Warnings: Angst? No spoilers for Shang-Chi and the Legend of the the Ten Rings, just one reference to the movie but it's not a spoiler.

Pairings: Shang-Chi x platonic!reader

Word Count: approx. 2,423

A/N: I based this off the song Marry Me by Thomas Rhett. Go give it a listen, it's a great song! I want to make more fics for Shang-Chi that aren't as angsty as this, but I wanna wait until more people have seen Shang-Chi so I can include scenes from the movie. Hope you enjoy this ❤️

“She wants to get married; she wants it perfect”

“So, when are you two getting married?” Your grandmother asked as she pointed between you and Shang-Chi.

You spit up your water, “Nana, we’ve been over this. Shaun and I are just friends.”

“Then why do you have a scrapbook in your room titled ‘My Dream Wedding’ if you don’t plan on getting married.” She sassed her granddaughter.

This isn’t the first time she had asked us if we were together. Every time (Y/N) just brushed it off as her being old and stuck in her ways. But this is the first time that I’ve heard of this scrapbook. “A scrapbook? This I have to see.” I grinned at (Y/N), her faced flushed and you could basically see the wheels in her mind working up an excuse as to why her nana had said that. But she couldn’t think of any.

“Nana, what did I tell you about snooping?” (Y/N) turned to scold her.

“What? I’m old and have nothing better to do. It has some very beautiful ideas. Have to both worked out the details or are they all your plans dear?”

(Y/N)’s face turned a deep red as I burst out in laughter. “Come on (Y/N), I have to see this” I held out her hand to bring her to her bedroom.

“Look, I’ve been planning my wedding since I was little, okay? I just want to let you know this isn’t some creepy shrine for you and me or something like that.” She said as she hesitantly took the book down from her top shelf above her bed frame.

“Oh, don’t worry, I KNOW this is a dedication to me and our love. You don’t have to hide it.” I chuckled as she punched my arm and gave me a threatening look.

“So basically, I have pictures that I’ve cut out from magazines or printed off from TV shows that I watch with my Nana that I think would go well with my overall theme.”

“She wants her granddaddy preach in the service”

“I originally was going to have my Papa do the service, but that was before he passed last year.” She looked down at the picture of him that she cut out and tapped down at the end of a poorly drawn alter. She put on a sad smile and sighed, “Hopefully by the time I do get married Nana is still around and I can get her ordained online. Then she can speak for both of them.”

“I’m sure she would love that.” I put a hand on her back to sooth her. She was the closest with her grandfather. Since her parents passed away in a car accident when she was young, they were all she had and he spoiled her rotten. Nana warned him not to let her turn too spoiled, they didn’t want her being a brat. But he assured her that he was just showering her with love. I couldn’t help but understand now why her grandfather would go through such trouble to make sure she felt loved. She is worth it.

“And she wants magnolias out in the country”

“I want to have the ceremony outside, have the alter be surrounded by magnolia trees.” She turned the page to pictures of roads and sidewalks lined with magnolia trees, beautiful shades of pink and white blooming across the page.

“Why magnolias?” I remember her telling me years ago that her favorite flower was a white rose, so I thought that she would for sure have those.

“They were my mother’s favorite.” She smiled, “If I’m going to have a ceremony where I’m bringing someone into my family, I want them all there. Even if it’s just in spirit.” She chuckled as she pointed to the single picture of her mother with a crown of magnolias on her head, spinning around in the sun. “I would always make her flower crowns of them, and I think that’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”

“I think that her seeing you on your wedding day would’ve made her even happier.” I say, hoping to reassure her. I never met her mother or father. They were gone before I even came to the US. But when I met her, she had this spark in her still, I imagine that it’s the spark she got from her mother. The same spark she seems to have in this photo.

“Not too many people, save her daddy some money”

“So, how are you planning on paying for all this? I mean, realistically a job valeting cars won’t get you far.” I was hoping to try to get her to change the subject so she wouldn’t get too upset looking through this book.

“My daddy left me his savings in his will. My Nana and Papa saved it for when I went to college, but I got enough scholarships I didn’t need it. So, I figured I’d save it for my wedding or buying a house.” She shrugged, “Like I said, I want all the people important to me with me that day. But I will have to have a smaller ceremony because it’s not that much money he’s left. I think I’d invite family and the few close friends that are like family.”

“She got it all planned out. I can see it all right now. I’ll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back.”

“Of course, I’ve made sure you’ll be on the guestlist.” She flipped the next page and pointed to the picture of me and her on prom night our senior year. I’m in a black suit and tie, she had a soft blush pink dress that flowed down to the floor with white magnolias in her pinned-up hair. This was the first time I was able to really picture it all. Not just looking at pictures, but what it would look like as I walked around the place myself. I can see myself hiding in the back as we get ready for the ceremony to start, making some last-minute adjustments to my suit. Making sure my hair looked okay.

“I’ll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask. I’ll try to make it through without crying, so nobody sees.”

I’d probably have to take a shot to ease my nerves. I wonder if I’d be one of those people who would cry as soon as she walked down the aisle.

“This is the dress that I want.” Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts, she showed me a dress that would fit her perfect. It was flowing but puffy. She had a long train and lace accents all over. She would look like a princess. I can see her perfectly in the dress, and not just because she cut a photo of her head out and taped it over the model of the dress, but because I think it is exactly the type of dress, I would expect her to wear. This answers my question, I would definitely be the first one to cry as I saw her walking down the aisle.

“It’s perfect. You’ll look perfect.” I whisper to her. I could see her holding onto my every word. Like she wanted to hear nothing more than those words. I slowly moved my hand from her back up to her cheek and cupped her face. “Everything is perfect.” I tell her. Her skin lights up under my touch, as if it’s a flame setting fire to her body.

“Yeah, she wanna get married. But she don’t wanna marry me. I remember the night when I almost kissed her. I kinda freaked out, we’ve been friends for forever. And I’d always wonder if she felt the same way.”

I’ve never wanted to kiss her more than right now. I’ve thought about it before, but never needed it like I do right now. She started to lean in, eyes fluttering shut. It’s now or never. But something stopped me. I don’t know if it was my nerves, or if it was just too much all at once, imagining us get married, but I just couldn’t do it. She felt me pull away and stopped herself, she shot her eyes open and realized that she read the situation wrong. But she didn’t read it wrong, I just chickened out. I’ve wanted this since the day I met her, but it was just too scary. What if we ended up breaking up and hating each other? She was too important for me to lose.

She just cleared her throat and acted as if nothing happened, turning the next page of her scrapbook.

“When I got the invite, I knew it was too late. And I know, her daddy’s been dreadin’ this day. Although he don’t know he ain’t the only one givin’ her away.”

I woke up to the sound of my alarm, turning over to shut it off I felt the paper I had cried over last night. An invite to (Y/N)’s dream wedding. After the night when she showed me her scrapbook, she seemed to become distant. I don’t know if it’s because we almost kissed and I seemed to reject her, or if she just got too busy with her new boyfriend, but it broke my heart more and more every day until I was just numb. That was 3 years ago, now she had moved on and found someone who wasn’t afraid to grow up and commit to her.

I’d been to see her Nana a couple times after she had started dating him and she scolded me just as I had scolded myself.

“You know, I was really hoping it would’ve been you. You would’ve been perfect together.” She shook her head in disappointment as I helped her in the kitchen while (Y/N) and her boyfriend set the table in the dining room. “I don’t like him as much as I like you.” She sighed and went back to chopping her tomatoes.

“No one’s more disappointed than I am Nana.” I looked down at my hands, feeling empty without hers in them.

“I’ll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back. I’ll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask. I’ll try to make it through without cryin’ so nobody sees. Yeah, she wanna get married, but she don’t wanna marry me.”

“Hey, did you get the invite?” (Y/N) called me shortly after I’d woken up, knowing when my alarm was set for.

“Yeah.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I know that we haven’t been… the closest lately… but I hope you’ll still come. Afterall you’re in the scrapbook.” She chuckled, hoping she could bring me around to the idea of going. She still didn’t know why I’d distanced myself from her all these years. I can imagine I’ve hurt her, but I only hurt myself every time I see her with him, so I had to do it. “I asked Sam if he’d be willing to make you a best man, since I can’t have you as a bridesmaid. He said of course you could be. It really would mean the world to me if you would.”

While I wanted to be nowhere near Sam, helping him celebrate his wedding day with the love of my life, I wanted nothing more than to be there for her. No matter how she wanted me there.

“Of course, I’ll be a best man. I wouldn’t miss your wedding if the world was ending.” I smiled through the phone, knowing she wouldn’t see just how broken it was.

“Ah! Yay! I was hoping you’d say yes! I can’t wait to tell him. I’ll talk to you later, love you.”

I hung up before I could say anything back.

The day of her wedding came sooner than I’d hoped. It was a beautiful spring wedding with the pink magnolias surrounding the alter in full bloom. I was in a black suit and tie with a flask of whiskey hidden in my coat pocket. I was in the back helping Sam make his last preparations when I saw her.

“But she got on her dress now, welcomin’ the guests now. I could try to find her, get it off of my chest now.”

She was stunning. The sun shining off her in the most perfect way. She was out greeting guests before the ceremony started, in her reception gown, saving the real gown for later when no one would see. Even in this substitute dress I couldn’t help dropping my jaw when she turned my way. She came over to me and threw her arms around me. “I know I’m supposed to be getting ready, but I couldn’t wait to see you.” She whispered in my ear. God did I miss her.

“(Y/N), there’s something I want to tell you.” I start to work up the courage. It was now or never.

“But I ain’t gonna mess this up, so I wish her the best now. I’m in my black suit, black tie and out in the back. Doin’ a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask. I’ll try to make it through without cryin’ so nobody sees. Yeah, she wanna get married. But she don’t wanna marry me.”

“Yeah Shang-Chi?” She looked up at me as she pulled away from me. She looked so perfect. I just wanted to tell her everything on my chest and run away from all this with her. Live happily ever after. But this is real life, this is a wedding she’s planned out since she was a kid. She wants it to be perfect. I can’t take that from her.

“Everything is perfect. You look perfect.” I force a smile as she grins and giggles at me.

“You’re so dramatic, but I love that about you.” She kissed my cheek and told me she’d save me a dance as she went back to her dressing room to finish getting ready.

I pulled the flask out of my jacket and took a strong swig. Sam was calling me over to get in line at the altar.

Bridesmaids one through four walked down the aisle carrying bouquets of pink magnolias. She followed them up in her beautiful gown, straight out of her scrapbook. A bouquet of white roses with pink magnolias blossomed out of her hands. She absolutely took my breath away, but it wasn’t me she was marching towards.

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[hyperfixatedimagines]

The Moon & her Star: Ch 2

Summary: Star crossed lovers trying to make it work but as outside pressures get to them will they choose to stay together?

A/N: Thank you to those that enjoyed the first chapter. I hope you like this one.

(Y/N) knew what their arrangement would be before Luna had even finished kissing her.

She knew Luna would never be with her in the light of day.

Not because they were both girls, Monet had been out and proud since seventh grade (allegedly), but because (y/n) didn’t come from old or new money.

She came from no money.

Luna’s lungs were beginning to burn but she didn’t want to stop kissing (y/n). She knew the moment she stopped (y/n) they would have to talk about the harsh reality of their situation. Luna had plans, plans she couldn’t let (y/n) derail. But god- (y/n)’s lips felt so good. She wanted to throw it all away and keep kissing (y/n) forever.

-

The first month of their clandestine relationship was heaven, or as close as (y/n) ever thought she’d get.

(y/n) loved the secret touches as they’d pass each other in the halls, their fingertips just barely brushing the other’s.

(y/n) loved the adrenaline rush of kissing Luna in the shadowy corners of Constance halls, classrooms, and the occasional girls’ bathroom stall.

Most importantly, (y/n) loved spending evenings in the theater building basement going over her lines with Luna.

Thanks to their passionate kiss that night (y/n) had been able to pull herself together for her audition, and she nailed it.

(y/n) was cast as the female lead for the spring musical, as Maria in west side story.

So she had Luna help her by running lines ,and practicing the choreography together. Luna hated to admit how much she enjoyed the theater, and especially how much she enjoyed acting alongside (y/n).

“You’re overthinking it (y/n),” Luna said as she gently brushed some flyaways from (y/n)’s face.

“Or maybe I’m not thinking enough. This is my one chance Lune, if I don’t-”

Luna cut her girlfriend’s self sabotage off with a delicate finger to (y/n)’s lips.

“(Y/n), you are so insanely talented. These past few weeks that I’ve run lines with you I can see that your star is going to burn so bright. Please don’t overthink it, let your intuition guide you.”

(Y/N) didn’t know how to respond. She’d never heard Luna talk like that.

Luna dropped her finger from (y/n)’s mouth and went to grab the script she’d left on a nearby table. “Now, let’s do another run of the scene at the end of act one.”

“The kissing scene,” (y/n) asked, even though she knew that was exactly what Luna was referring to.

Luna wrapped her arms around (y/n)’s neck.

“I think you need a little more practice,” Luna teased.

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around Luna’s waist, pulling her closer.

“Oh really? Well if it’s for the show, we must practice.”

Luna nodded. “Of course, we have to get it just right. Even if that means doing it over and over,” Luna leaned in closer, “and over again.”

Their lips met and the world around them disappeared. Only their lips and beating hearts mattered.

If only it had stayed that way.

-

The second month of their relationship was….rocky.

As the spring musical approached (y/n) became more and more stressed, unable to enjoy the shadowy kisses and forbidden glances.

Luna tried her best to comfort (y/n) but she had problems of her own to deal with. Her parents were staying at the New York residence less and less. Luna knew it was because of their busy schedules but a part of her wondered if it was them choosing to be away from her.

And then there was Julien.

She had be gaining quite a following online, and wasn’t sure what to do with all the growing attention. Monet had mobilized, but Monet knew exactly what she wanted to do with life. Monet had a clear ten year plan to success, and it included Luna.

There was no Luna without Monet and no Monet without Luna. They had best friends since seventh grade. They both wanted success and would stop at nothing to achieve it.

So they became Julien’s management team. Monet focusing on the business side and Luna the fashion side.

Which left Luna and (y/n) little time to sneak away and pretend they weren’t star crossed lovers.

Luna still came to the theater building basement to be with (y/n) but she was focused on planning Julien’s outfits for the week.

“Lune if you aren’t mentally here what is the point of you being physically here,” (y/n) spat.

She had such little time left until opening night and the director was on her ass about her dancing. The least Luna could do was pay attention the few hours of the day she saw her.

Luna put her phone down, screen side up, next to her on the bench.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

Luna’s phone buzzed with notification after notification. Luna glanced at the phone before guiltily looking back at (y/n).

“Forget it,” (y/n) replied.

(Y/N) sighed and walked over to her book bag.

“I think we should go. I doubt I’m gonna nail the final dance number tonight.”

Luna grabbed her phone and began typing away.

“I won’t be able to see you Saturday. Julien needs me to help her pick out a dress for spring formal.”

(Y/n)’s shoulders sagged. Not surprised Luna cancelled their date yet again.

“Spring formal? Isn’t that months away?”

Luna looked up at (y/n) incredulously. “Do you think the perfect dress just magically appears a week before an event?”

“You’re right, I guess.”

Luna softened. “It’s important to Julien I be there.”

“Then you have to go, be a good friend.”

(Y/n) turned to kiss Luna goodnight but Luna’s phone pinged and once again Luna had mentally left the building. (Y/n) sighed.

“Crap, I have to go meet Monet. I’ll see you next Tuesday?”

She gave (y/n) a quick peck on the lips before leaving.

(Y/n) stood there, wondering where her Luna had gone.

-

In the two weeks leading up to opening night (y/n) hadn’t seen or talked to Luna at all.

Sure she’d seen Luna in class but she knew better than to try to talk to Luna in front of Luna’s friends.

(Y/n)’s texts had been left on delivered for days.

If Luna did respond it was a quick, I promise we’ll meet up soon.

Soon never came.

(Y/N) tried her best to focus on her role, but all she could think about was her failing relationship.

She missed Luna.

And as the distance between them grew the more (y/n) came to resent the secrecy of their relationship.

If people knew they were together then (y/n) and Luna could spend more time together. They’d be able to hold hands in the halls like Aki and Audrey. They could sit together at lunch, and even hang out at each other’s homes.

The more (y/n) thought about what she and Luna could be, the more bitter she became because she knew Luna would never accept it.

(Y/N) stared at Luna in class, wondering if Luna was worth the ache in her chest.

-

Opening night was one day away. (Y/n) had been on edge but that day she was radioactive.

She was messing up her lines, and forgetting dance steps.

The director was worried, and had even threatened to replace (y/n) with her understudy- a freshman. This was her big chance. She couldn’t mess it up now…but she was afraid she was going to.

So she stayed late that day, forcing herself to get it all right.

And it was paying off. That evening (y/n) hadn’t missed one line, and every step was filled with grace.

“You’re going to be the best Maria Constance has ever had.”

(Y/N) turned around, elated at the sound of her lover’s voice.

“Lune!”

She ran towards Luna. Luna stepped into the room meeting (y/n) halfway.

(Y/N) leaned in to kiss her but Luna turned away.

“Is something wrong?”

Luna sighed. “I didn’t want to do this tonight. I know how important tomorrow is to you but-“

(Y/N)’s stomach twisted into knots. She knew what was coming. She’d known this was always going to be the outcome of their relationship. (Y/N) had just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

“Don’t. Please Luna not tonight.”

Tears started to prick at the edges of Luna’s eyes.

“(Y/N), you and I both know this isn’t working. Why go on pretending another day?”

(Y/N) balled her fists. “Maybe because tomorrow night is the most important day of my life? And having my girlfriend break up with me the night before is beyond cruel.”

Luna turned to face (y/n). “I’m not doing this to hurt you I-“

“It’s kinda hard to see it any other way.”

Luna wiped away the tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“Monet and I are going to spring formal together.”

“What?” (Y/n) staggered backwards onto a nearby bench, the wind knocked out of her.

“She asked me a few days ago and I told her I would.”

(Y/N)’s chest began to ache. “Do you have feelings for her?”

Luna sighed. “That doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? If you’re breaking up with me for Monet I deserve to know.”

Luna took a seat next to (y/n) on the bench.

“I’m not breaking up with you for Monet. I just- when she asked me to the dance I hesitated and she asked if I already had a date.”

Luna turned to (y/n).

“And I realized that we hadn’t talked about spring formal. I realized we hadn’t really spoken in weeks…..I realized it was so easy to forget we were together because we never really had been in the first place. Kissing in the bathroom stall and hanging out in this basement once a week isn’t a relationship (y/n)…we both deserve better.”

Tears ran down the sides of (y/n)’s face as she tried hard to not look at Luna. If she looked at Luna she knew she’d beg Luna to stay.

So she stared at the ground instead. “And we both know you’ll never be better,” (y/n) said with as much venom in her voice as she could muster.

Luna’s stomach sank. She knew (y/n) was right. Luna wanted to be better for (y/n), but she couldn’t be. She was a coward. So she took the coward’s way out and said nothing.

Luna stood up and walked to the door. Just before leaving she turned back to (y/n).

“Break a leg tomorrow night (y/n).”

(Y/N) waited until the door closed behind Luna before breaking down completely. She sobbed into her hands, feeling her lungs burn as she let out silent screams.

She had always known it would end this way but (y/n) couldn’t have predicted it would end the night before her grand debut.

-

Opening night was a blur to (y/n).

All she remembered of the night was the heat of the stage lights, and the silence of the crowd.

The silence. The deadly silence. And the scorching heat.

(Y/N) had waited for that night for months, years even, and now that it had come all (y/n) could think about was Luna La’s peach lip gloss.

She remembered the heat of the stage lights and the silence of the crowd…then she remembered darkness.

[itstheimpossibledream]

Only A Play-Part 2

Word Count:3053

Pairing :  AU Henry & FemBlack! Reader

Warning:Angst, soon to come Smut

Summary: Y/n and Henry still trying to navigate their mutual attraction but, their job is making it harder to deny.The next chapter is already written, there’s sex in it I swear.

"So today I want you guys to focus on working with Dana" Steve began 

"She's our resident intimacy coordinator, I've already gone over the scene with her and she's going to make sure it goes over as smooth as possible. We're going to get her assistance a couple times during this process but today we're going to empty out the studio so have fun, play and get to know eachother. Today is just a day for you two to find some comfortable physicality with eachother." Stephen winks at you and then begins ushering tech and the few ensemble members out of the room. Friend or not, anyone attracted to men could not deny that Mr. Cavill was absolutley gorgeous, as wasted as it may be. In all honesty you hadn't spoken much aside from that snowy day outside the studio. He did begin to bring coffee and Kal to rehearsals and you tended to find the snuggly, bear of a dog always next to you when you were waiting for a cue but, it wasn't as though the two of you had had a heart-to-heart and resolved any of these unspoken differences. And as far as the scene was concerned your heart was doing backflips unable to tell which action would come more naturally, to kiss him or to hit him.

"So I'm seeing a lot of passion here! O !Please remove your shoes for today's lesson." Dana cuts in breaking the silence. Both of you look down at the wood paneled floor. Now was the time where you really had to work, you think to yourself while slowly slipping out of your shoes. 

“Unfortunately Dana, “ Henry begins, immediately charming the brakes off of her. 

 “ At this point of the play I believe her character is quite conflicted, as a woman she obviously wants to give in to him but, at the same time she knows she'll be letting down her family and he will too, they'll live a life with no family outside of the one they create for themsevles. It's quite powerful.But, a tough emotional point to bring oneself to."

"That may be how Christopher sees it -" you snap referring to his character. You are suddenly aware that you sound way more upset then you had intended to. "She doesn't want have sex with him because if she does she's giving up more than him,she always has.That's the whole story of their relationship. " you say, allowing your words to be the dam between the flood of  frustration you want to direct his way.

"So as you said we both have a lot of emotions here, we need to work on honing them into something that could potentially work itself into this explosion of passion okay?" Dana jumped excitedly. She looks exactly like what you would have expected from an intimacy coordinator.She wore a long moo-moo like dress and chunky amber jewelry.She smelled of a ton of weed, not as though you were really complaining but, it all added to the aesthetic that had washed into the room on her heels as she had entered. 

"I want to begin with an exercise- Mr.Cavill I know you've done scenes like this before so please work with me if I touch on some things you've already heard." she says leaning over and squeezing his forearm while winking. Great even the sex scene coordinator thought he was hot.

" I'm going to give you the space to choose but I want you both to just slowly go through the scene and when you hit a line that feels acceptable you remove an item of clothing. On stage you've both agreed to full nudity but today I just want to push you to do what feels comfortable!" Quietly you both moved to the opposite ends of the room, hitting your marks to begin the scene. You said your first few lines focusing on washing the dishes, the studio didn't have running water so it ended up being more like mime washing dishes. You were so much more professional than you were proving to be in this moment but, the second Henry removed his shirt you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. On his first line?Really? That was so like him ,so pompous.  And even more upsetting how ridiculously attractive he was. God was his body sculpted from marble? Nothing but pure muscle rippling evenly, he seemed somehow tanned, despite the blistering New York winter. You focused hitting your next line perfectly ,completely unphased by his topless body.With the following delivery you shrug out of your jacket, revealing your tank top. Thank christ you had expected to have a hook-up with a bartender after today's rehearsal. You weren't in full lingerie but, you were definitely in a matching set. A matching set that happened to make your ass look great. You held that in your back pocket, knowing you had every right to parade about, naked in the same room as someone who was a shoe-in to be named 'World's Sexiest Man'. You went for it, pulling off your tank top with your next line. This is when your blocking got physical. You had run this scene before but, running it scantily clad was an entirely different matter. You were supposed to  straddle him. That seemed simple enough. You stood before him, gingerly sliding one knee up onto the couch and then swinging another to the other side of him. 

"Are you sure?" he whispered, low and slow. You hated how during the scenes he actually had moments of completely brilliant acting where you could see an amazing talent. Then, you felt his hand on your knee. It was absurdly large and warm, so warm. You froze. You didn't want to do it but, you froze.Your eyes flitted all over the room, desperately looking for a way out , to end the scene. You feel his hand move up your thigh, it's the blocking, he's just doing his job, you remind yourself. But, something in you makes you afraid of his touch. You look into his eyes and you can tell he's noticed you shrinking under his touch. He clears his throat and drops character.Changing his intention toward Dana.

"I'm sorry can we start over? I completely forgot my line." he smiled at her.

"Sure! That was really great I think just focus a bit more on your intention. It's funny I think you guys had more sexual tension at the start of the rehearsal than at the top of the scene!" she laughed to herself. "Okay, let's take a step back, relax , stand up !  Stand up!" she says, jumping to her feet. The two of you peeled yourself apart from each other and you found yourself looking down at your perfectly perky breasts feeling more insignificant than ever. You could feel your face heating up by his move to take the blame for the scene. It was much more gentlemanly than you were expecting from him. 

"How about we take a break and come back in twenty? She suggested after a few warm-ups of jumping around and saying self -assuring mantras out-loud. After half a bottle of water, redressing, boring stretches and pretending to avoid eye-contact with Henry your rehearsal was finally up.

“ Oookay guys good stuff. Goooood stuff ! So for the weekend tomorrow I know Stephen had you signed up for a few meet and greets and publicity shoots but, I actually think that if you guys could set aside the time that you do spend together to get physically comfortable it could do a lot for your onstage comfortability. Hand holding, general petting or stroking, you may even want to try a light sitting on the lap, just anything really to get you more used to one another. This relationship needs to seem as effortless and fluid as possible.” She smiled “ also note that my number is free for 24/7 communication so if something comes up for you emotionally in this work feel free to get in contact with me, even if it's just to chat my door is always open!" she beams,collecting her water bottle and other assorted scripts she was reading through at the beginning of the rehearsal. 

Stephen reenters and, he and Dana go to the corner of the room to talk. 

You work your back pack onto your shoulder and begin to head for the door.

"Wait up!" Henry calls out from behind you. You whirl around and almost bump into him. His sweatshirt is baggy but unzipped enough that you can see the small tufts of hair playing at the tops of his chest, his baseball cap pulled way down over his forehead. Those blue eyes shined bright from the shade under that baseball cap. 

"What are your plans for tonight ?" he asked, slightly exaggerating his breathing from the light jog across the room. You searched the room awkwardly,looking for an out. What is it with him? Why did he think, especially after the last time the two of you had spent alone together, that you would ever want to be included in his plans for the night.  

"Perfect Idea!" Stephen exclaims from across the room. "You guys use tonight to bond as much as possible before tomorrow afternoon's interview session yeah?" 

"Uhhhh sure ." You agree, not wanting to seem like the town buzz-kill. You turn shrugging towards Henry. He smiles, seeming almost relieved that you agreed without putting up a fight, as Steve moves to rejoin Dana in the back

"So uhhh my place or yours?" he asks in a half hearted joke. 

"Uhhh" you definitely don't want him at your place, where there is laundry strewn all over the apartment . 

"I mean I have to feed my dog and run some errands anyway so my apartment would be ideal."

"O great! Okay yeah , let's do that then." you pushed on the door and headed for the elevator, the ride down to the lobby of the rehearsal studios was entirely silent, filled with awkward shuffling and avoided eye contact. Only punctuated by a short uber black ride in silence to an apartment on the upper east side. Ofcourse he lived on the upper east side.The doorman was polite as you followed behind him, clearly him bringing strange women up to his apartment was not entirely unheard of. Once in the room, you asked where to sit your bag down, your afternoon ritual usually included a trip to the gym, that is what had become your me -time since college. He motioned you to his guest room, in which you were shocked,contained a shower, granted the entire tiny room was a shower but, being a guest in New York with your own bathroom was definitely not an everyday thing. Especially, for a little black girl from the south. 

"Is it okay if I shower before we grab dinner?" you ask.

"Oh! You wanted to grab dinner?I was just going to order chinese."

"That's fine! " you ungracefully exclaimed from the other room.Shit. Hopefully he didn't think you really meant grab dinner like on a date.

"Do you have a special order?"he asked, appearing in the doorway. You turned around slightly alarmed that his voice had gotten that much closer.

"I love everything!" you smile, he looked down at the floor nervously. "but shrimp lomein is my favorite." you say unzipping your jacket and placing it on the bed, your bra was working overtime holding you up and you made a mental note to order another one exactly like it. He cleared his throat and there was a second of silence. You could feel his eyes slowly darting around the room trying not to look at your chest. As actors, especially ones who have to do nude scenes together you didn't think it would be a big deal to him that you were getting ready to shower. You had mentioned on the elevator earlier that you had wanted a shower. Taking off your jacket just seemed like the right next step, nothing to feel weird over. 

"Sounds Good!" he exclaims, finally showing you his full smile, for the first time since the rehearsal process had started. God he was a sight, he had removed his hat and you noticed how perfectly his hair curled onto his forhead.It was adhered by sweat but, not the weird homecoming- football helmet sweat, you get from your highschool crush. This was a grown-man glistening infront of you. It sounded ridiculous, the situation itself was ridiculous,why was he even sweating ?

"Sorry-I uh- I didn't know you were showering right now. We can talk about it later if you-"

"It's fine" you say, stepping in and  laying a hand on his forearm.His eyes shot down to your hand then immediately back to your eyes, sure to avoid seeming like he was staring at your breasts. He clears his throat again and you can smell the faint cologne on him as you watch his adams apple bob. The air in the room changes and you feel him shift away from you. You mumble a thanks for the dinner as you hear  him close the door between you. 

Your shower was perfectly steamy and warm, much unlike your brooklyn apartment that had charm and character but, a much worse hot water heater. As you washed away the dirt from the day you tried not to think of Henry, of what he must think of you for absolutely chewing him out just a few short weeks ago. He seemed to have gotten over it but, at the same time perhaps he was just trying to be the better person. As much as you hated to admit it he had completely accepted your scathing critique and was now treating you like the highest paying guest at a five-star resort. You turned down the hot water, basking in the last bit of steam and enjoying the first true silence of your day. Reaching an arm up, you grab a towel, wrapping it around your body. You stretched out for another towel that you had laid across the sink, somehow your legs completely slipped from under you and you crashed to the floor,grabbing the sink for leverage. Really all you did was knock over some toiletries that you had put on the sink earlier and you could feel your cheeks heating up. It was weird to be embarrassed in a room by yourself but, you knew he must've heard something. You sat on the floor, allowing your chin to rest on the top of your knees. You desperately needed a moment to breathe. Life had been so stressful lately, and you possibly had let off a bit too much steam on him. He was actually a nice guy, sure the accessible information on him didn't make him look amazing but when it came down to it once you explained how you felt about him he had worked so hard to seem normal and accessible. For whatever reason  he seemed to respect your opinion as an artist. The knock at the door kept you from becoming completely lost in your thoughts. It knocked again and you could hear his feet shuffle on the hard wood outside of the door, the nails of the large dog clicking the floor next to him. 

"You okay in there?" It seemed earnest enough.

"Yeah!" you called back "My mind has really been somewhere else lately, I just umm lost my footing- that's all." 

"Okay well let me know if you need anything." It was cheery but helpful. Once you heard him close the door to your room you got up and got dressed as quickly as you could, fumbling to get sweatpants on without accident. Today was definitely not your most agile day. You finally let your hair down and put on just the smallest amount of mascara to make your eyes pop.It was an effortlessly hot look that had worked for you for years, especially in college. You closed the door behind you and gently padded your way to the kitchen. The apartment was cozy, Kal was curled up on a rug in the corner of the room while Henry portioned the food onto pristine white plates. You noticed the baseball cap was back on and at least thanked god for giving you that small assistance in removing the temptation to touch him by running your fingers through his hair.

"So you order takeout but refuse to eat it out of the container?"you asked jokingly as he whirled around from the counter.That smile appeared on his face again and you knew you were putty in his hands,The way he filled out his navy blue t-shirt was unbelievable.

"It's less calories this way." he winked. Thank god he had a sense of humor.You returned his smile now sitting in the chair closest to the kitchen. The conversation veered from workout routines, to body image stress as a performer and then back to work. You found yourself sucking a noodle wishing he'd bring up something else. You absolutely could not do a night of niceties and small talk at this point in your life but, you also weren't ballsy enough to walk right up to him and tell him you wanted him.

"Y/N?"he asked

"Yeah?" you jumped being pulled once again from you daydream

"Do you wanna run lines or watch tv or something?"he asked shyly

"Yeah I mean -we can run lines if you want I just thought we were supposed to bond by talking or something." you laughed trying to take the edge off the awkwardness of the scenario.

"Well what do you want to talk about ?' he asked, leaning back in his seat, baseball cap over his eyebrows.His jawline was so sharp it could cut ice, it dawned on you that he was actually much too goodlooking for his own good. 

You picked up a fortune cookie at the center of the table and tossed it to him.

"Read me your fortune."you smiled seductively. He raised his eyebrows at you but, something must have convinced him because he simply shook his head and said.

"Okay."

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Part 6

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

EXTRA WARNINGS - this chapter is pretty much unrelenting whump and the violence and consent issues (past) tags strongly apply. I have put more detailed (spoiler heavy) warnings at the bottom so if you’re particularly sensitive to that stuff and want to scroll down to check before you read you can do so.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

In a tavern just outside of Leovan the crowd roars another! And Roman laughs and gamely starts to play another jig. He’s been playing for hours and he drinks in the attention happily, even as the cheers of the crowd become a ringing in his ears. The night is long and his throat is raw and his stomach empty and it’s harder and harder to keep his eyes focused, but his hands are steady on the strings. He sways in place, sweat dripping into his eyes, but it doesn’t matter- the crowd adore him. They sing and dance and laugh along, and after each set they call another, another, another until the room is spinning and his throat is bleeding and the audience’s laughter had turned cruel and high and lilting and-

Roman woke with a gasp and immediately regretted it.

The underground room was still pitch black, the humidity still cloying. At some point during his fitful sleep he had slumped to the floor, Lucius’ ill-attempt at binding having come loose enough to allow him to slide his arms down the length of the pipe. He was awkwardly sprawled at the base with his wrists still pinned above his head and his legs twisted underneath him. He tugged experimentally at his binding and got a sharp spike of pain down his shoulders and spine for his trouble. Whilst he had wasted time sleeping, the silk had become sodden from the moisture of the room and shrunk tight against his wrists, making even Lucius’ knotwork impossible to pull apart.

Not that it would have made much difference if he could get it loose.

Stay here until I come back with your transport.

Grunting with pain, he managed to untangle his legs out from under him and sit up. He pushed himself up on his knees as best he could, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his wrists, but gave it up quickly as the pain lacing down his shoulders intensified.

This was bad.

He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to think, but the heat was making it almost impossible. The black of the room kept swirling back in to crowded tavern, the rush of water into the jeers of a crowd…he could feel the raw burn on his throat and his mind scrambled desperately for another song-

Except it hadn’t happened like that. He shook his head furiously, his hair flicking sweat into the room, trying to banish the tavern from his mind.  He had already started traveling with the others by the time he sang in Leovan and if he’d tried to perform so late into the night Virgil would have come stomping down the stairs to tell him he was being ridiculous and to go and get some sleep.

Or Patton would have sat up listening, playing bodyguard, until he couldn’t keep his own eyes open and sweetly suggested that the crowd might want to be getting home to their own families.

Or Logan would appear, pocket watch in hand, demanding he finish within a set time frame in order to allow for optimal sleeping hours.

Roman could almost hear the lecture, relief at a chance to escape the crowd mingling with exasperation at the scholars ridged scheduling.

In the dark Roman glanced over to where he thought the door should be.

The only sound was the gentle hiss of water.

He tried pulling at the rope again.

***

“Hey! It’s you!”

The man blocking Roman’s path back to the ballroom was clearly drunk. He stumbled towards Roman, half leaning on the hallway wall for support, a big dopy smile on his face.  “I saw you- I saw you back there – wow!”

“Thank you friend.” Roman smiled brightly and took a step backwards, but not quickly enough to prevent the guy from grasping onto his sash.

“You’re so pretty.” The guy breathed, his eyes unfocused but his grip firm, “I saw you lookin’ at me when you were singin’.”

Roman squirmed. He was almost certainly better trained than his admirer, and he had had a lot less ale, but he was also shorter and skinnier. With the man pressed so close in the narrow hallway it was almost impossible to find the leverage he needed to push him off.

And. This was a nice place. And by the quality of the man’s clothing he was an honoured guest not a servant. Roman had been the one to convince his new companions to accompany him to the local lord’s house for the ball, he had wanted to give them to a chance to relax whilst he performed. He didn’t want to get himself, and them, kicked out by causing a scene- not when he was half hoping they would allow him to continue to travel with them even though the job he’d been hired for was done.

“I look at everyone-” he said, smile fixed and polite ”– engaging the audience is actually very important for-“

“Shush.” The man whispered.

Roman shushed. Grinding his teeth in frustration.

His assailant brought one hand up to paw at his face in a clumsy attempt at seduction, thick rings knocking against Romans jaw. His other hand released the bard’s sash to grip his wrist instead.

“Kiss me,” the man breathed, the stink of ale on his breath making Roman gag.

Face burning with mounting frustration and embarrassment, Roman attempted to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, but the man twisted his head at the last moment to meet his lips with his own.  Pressing Roman back against the wall with a slobbering assault as he attempted to pry Roman’s lips open with his tongue.

Panic flickered in Roman’s belly and then just as quickly dulled. It was generally easier to let these things run their course.

And then, suddenly, the pressure on his mouth – and wrist and chest - was gone.

Roman blinked open eyes he didn’t remember squeezing shut to see Patton with an expression so furious Roman had to fight the instinct to cower.

“What.” Patton snarled “Do you think you’re doing?”

“I di-didn’t mean to-“ Roman started.

“Well?!” Patton roared and Roman realised he wasn’t speaking to him – but rather the rich man who appeared to be rapidly sobering up in Patton’s grip.  The warrior held him by the scuff of his neck, his toes just scraping the floor. When Patton shook him, the plethora of chains around his neck clinked together musically.

“Roman,” Patton asked, his voice still shaking with an anger that made Roman draw his shoulders up instinctively “do you…know this man?”

“Well…no.” Roman glanced at the chains again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his heart rate started to return to normal “I think he might be the mayor though Pat, put him down!”

“I don’t care if he’s the King of the elves! Did you want to kiss him?”

“Well no, but – but its fine! These things happen!”

“You call yourself a Prince and this is how you carry on?”

Wait. What?

Roman blinked, feeling strangely hot in the cool hallway.

Patton wasn’t supposed to say that. Patton was supposed to ask what he meant. And Roman would backtrack and feed him some lines about people often feeling entitled to performers time off stage – which was not untrue – and Patton would look at him wide eyed and tell him that would never happen again –

“You’ve been told over and over, to keep yourself to yourself.”

- that Patton would stand guard at every performance from now on if that’s what it took.-

“If you insist on putting yourself into these situations, don’t come crying to me when the inevitable happens.”

-And Roman would be so elated at the implication that they were to keep travelling together that he would almost forget to feel embarrassed at the situation.-

Patton’s lips narrowed into a thin disapproving line, “Don’t be naive. You are far better off alone, Romulus.”

“Dad?” Roman whispered.

“He doesn’t look much like the Prince.”

“Oh, like you’ve seen him.”

“Well he’s meant to be handsome right? This guy’s not winning any contests.”

Roman opened his eyes, squinting against the light. Three men stood around him, illuminated by the glow of an oil lamp. For one wild moment elation flooded through him - his friends had found him after all!

And then their conversation registered and he scowled. Disappointment robbing him of a witty comeback to their insults.

Still. Let them travel almost non-stop for three weeks, spend a night standing out in the middle of a field whilst an old woman sang at herbs, march for five days through a forest - including a detour through he thickets brambles known to man- and then follow that up with an entire day wandering around the city, have two panic attacks and be left to sleep tied up in caller. And then see if they looked their best.  

With the gag still in his mouth, Roman’s attempt to covey this sentiment were mercifully muffled.

“I don’t know.” The biggest of the three stepped forward, grabbing a handful of Roman’s hair and yanking his head back painfully, abruptly cutting off his complaints. “I can kinda see it.”

“Be careful Niki,” the one who had first spoken whispered, he was holding the lantern and keeping well back from Roman. “His nibs thinks he’s got devils with him.”

“In here?” Niki cast a glance around at the iron cage of pipework that covered the room. “If he does they’re not coming out.”

“Still.” Lantern-boy whined.

“Well let’s test it.” Niki grinned down and Roman spitefully and released his grip on his hair. In one quick movement he had produced an iron dagger, not unlike Roman’s own, and pressed the flat of it to Roman’s cheek.

Roman stared at him.

“There you see? If was possessed he’d be screaming.” Niki said smugly and pulled his knife back, twisting it slightly as he did so, leaving a shallow cut along Roman’s cheek, making him wince.

“Careful,” lantern-boy said meaningfully “he’s still the Prince’s brother.”

“Oops.” Niki smiled cheerfully down at Roman. “My bad.”

“He needs to drink.” The third man stood far enough back from the lantern that Roman couldn’t see his face, but he saw the way the other two responded to his soft voice, their posture automatically stiffening.

“Here,” lantern-boy stepped forward after a moment, holding out a water skin to Niki  who rolled his eyes but reached down to rip the gag from Roman’s mouth.

Roman coughed, swallowing air greedily. His throat was painfully dry, all moisture sucked out by the silk, but he still hesitated when Niki held the skin up to his mouth.

“Listen to me.” He croaked “you-“

“Just drink it.” Niki snapped and Roman surged forward despite himself, swallowing a few precious mouthfuls before the skin was yanked away again.  

“You’re from Notaleveale.”  he whispered. “Right?”

“Obviously.” Lantern-boy muttered, taking the water skin back from his companion.

“Well then,” he drew himself up as much as he could, ignoring the pain the movement caused “ – as true men of The North I must implore you to assist me. The Marquis has been embroiled in some- some conspiracy of untruths, is perhaps plotting against the very crown itself and-“

“The Marquis de Orenlla couldn’t plot his way out of a paper bag.” Niki snorted contemptuously.

Roman opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“Isn’t he your Lord?” he asked eventually feeling bizarrely offended on the Marquis’ behalf. Niki and lantern-boy were both wearing chest plates embossed with the three peaked mountain range that signified allegiance to Orenlla, the royal kraken of Notaleveale floating above. They were clearly guardsmen brought with Lucius on his journey south.

The third man, who hadn’t spoken since he mentioned Roman needing to drink, wore no identifying uniform.

“It’s not an insult.” Niki shrugged, “personally I prefer an employer too daft to organise a coupe.”  

Lantern-boy nodded in agreement, “It’s a, whatcha call it - a positive working environment, innt?”

“…alright.” Roman decided to change tactics. “I’ll double what he’s paying you.” This time both men laughed.

“With what?”

“Well, I. I’m still a Prince I’ll have you know -  I have many rich and influential friends who would gladly-“

“Oh really. Where are they then?”

There was an unpleasant pause whilst Roman desperately tried to get his brain to think. He was supposed to be more creative than this!

“You’re no Prince of ours anyhow.” Lantern-boy stepped a bit closer to glare into Roman’s eyes. “Traitor.”

Roman flinched back at the pure look of venom on the young man’s face.

Little fae touched traitor.

“Listen to me. Whatever you’ve heard – it’s not true. My father-“

“Don’t you dare speak his name!” Niki surged froward, pulling Roman up by the neck of his tunic. Their faces were close enough that Roman could feel the spittle from the man’s mouth land on his cheek as he shouted: “After your despicable actions you would dare to-“

“Nicolas. Don’t upset yourself.”

The third man was barely visible to Roman over Niki- Nicholas’- shoulder, but as soon as he spoke the large man stilled, lowering Roman slowly back to the ground.

“Marcus. Some more light if you will.”

Lantern-boy -presumably Marcus– quickly produced a box of long matchsticks, almost tripping over himself in his haste to light more lanterns around the room. By the time he was done the room was brightly lit, the glow from each lamp bouncing off the metal pipes until it filled every corner.

The third man did not look especially Notalevealean, with skin almost as white as Virgil’s and pale white blond hair.  He was dressed plainly, with pale grey robes and soft shoes, and carried only a thin walking stick. If he hadn’t spoken, he could have quite easily faded into the background - camouflaged against the dull back drop of pipes.

“Nicholas. Marcus. Go and guard the passages.”

“But we already have a dozen men out there-“

“And I’m sure they’re in need of leadership. Go now.”

The two men glanced at each other. Roman thought for a moment that they would stand their ground, but then Marcus snatched up his original lantern and headed for the door, Niki following after one last reluctant glance back.

“W-wait.” Roman called. “Is my Father alive?”

They disappeared into the gloom of the next room.

Left alone with only the quiet grey man, Roman found himself wishing they’d stayed.

The grey man smiled at him as he shuffled towards the kneeling prince. His smile was an awful thing that did not touch his eyes.

“The young Marquis de Orenlla is a rather silly boy.” He told Roman in his soft papery voice. “Much like yourself.”

Despite himself Roman let out an offended squeak, but the grey man continued unhindered. “He has very little idea how to survive alone, can barely function without his servants.”

Roman caught himself staring at the floor and snapped his gaze back to the grey man’s face. He didn’t want to miss any information he might let slip but looking at him was-

It was difficult.

When he tried to look at the details of his face they seemed to slip away. Was he young or old? What colour were his eyes?

The whole time he had been talking, had his mouth actually moved?

“What are you?” Roman whispered.

The grey man smiled again, Roman shuddered.

“But also like you, he is not wholly stupid. He has started asking some inconvenient questions.”

Within the blink of an eye, the grey man was next to him a knife in his hand. Before Roman had a chance to do more than flinch, he had cut the ties biding his hands, and was back across the room.

Dazed, Roman rubbed his wrists, trying not to wretch.

Up close, the grey man smelt of death.

“Now. Sit there, and listen to me until I finish.”

Romulus whimpered.

“Your father is dead.” The grey man told him bluntly. “You killed him.”

“No.” Romulus- Roman shook his head. Used his newly freed hands to cover his ears. “He was sick.”

“You poisoned him over many weeks.” the grey man whispered. “Disguised it as a common sickness. You tried the same on your brother but he was too strong to succumb.”

Roman lowered his hands. They were pointless anyway- the grey man’s voice seemed to be inside his head.

“That’s not how his strength works!”

“And so instead, you allied yourself with a traitor to the fae court and placed a curse of madness on the crown prince, rendering him unable to rule. You hoped to take over in his place, but luckily your father’s advisors found you out. You were forced to flea with your fae companion.”

Roman stared at him, eyes wide. “That’s insane!”

“That’s the truth.” The grey man insisted. “When The Marquis asks you for the truth, that’s what you’ll say.”

“No.” Roman shook his head. “No, no, no.”

The grey man reached forward, resting his hand gently against Roman’s cheek. Romulus stared up into his eyes.

“Julius?” he whispered.

“In a way.” The grey man’s face seemed to twist. For a single moment, it was Julius’ face that looked disdainful down at him, rendering Romulus mute with terror. And then with another twist to reality it was gone, back to the grey man’s blank visage.

“I’ve had eyes all over looking for you Romulus. I was so sure you must have died in the mountains and yet –“ His fingers tightened on Roman’s face, nails digging cruelly into his skin. “Here you are. Like a little cockroach.”

With a shove he released Roman’s face and walked swiftly to the centre of the room, where the largest pipes rose out of the floor. “Stay on your knees and come here.” he ordered. Face burning, Roman shuffled after him, knees bruising on the stone floor.

“Put your hands here.” He gestured to one of the larger pipes. Even before his hands touched the surface, Roman could feel the heat radiating from it. It was far hotter than the one he had been tied to and although he braced himself he couldn’t hold back a yelp of pain when his hands made contact.

He snatched them back quickly, his palms an alarming shade of red. And without pausing, sprang to his feet, aiming a punch directly at the grey man’s immobile face.

“Stop moving.”

Roman felt his muscles lock, momentum sending him crashing to the ground as the grey man easily sidestepped his swing.

“Don’t move until I tell you too.” The grey man added, leaving Roman frozen on the ground where he landed.

Slowey the grey man stepped around him, crouching down by his head. “Look at me, Romulus.” Roman did so, only moving his eyes to stare at the flickering mirage of the grey man’s face.

Up close, the smell was so bad Roman felt the remains of his pastry threatening to make a reappearance.

“I am going to ask you some questions. You are going to tell me the truth. Nod if you understand.”

Slowly, Roman nodded. The grey man – Julius – whatever it was, had already told him what it wanted him to consider the truth. But even so, ‘tell the truth’ was an easy enough order to get around. Truth being in the eye of the beholder and all.

“And if you don’t, I am going to tell you to hold onto that pipe again, and I am going to tell you to keep holding it until I am satisfied with your answers. Do you understand?”

Roman swallowed.  He nodded again.

“Did you kill your father? Tell the truth now.”

“No.” he said quickly and then bit his tongue, cursing. Franticly he looked up at the grey man  “You, you said that was a truth for The Marquis, not for everyone I can’t just –“

“Raise your left hand.” the grey man said mildly. “Bring it here.”

Romulus felt tears of frustration and fear spring to his eyes. He was stupid for thinking he had a chance at this. Julius’ tests were never designed for him to pass.

***

Roman wasn’t sure how many hours passed before the grey man seemed satisfied.

Fortunately, he had methods of persuasion beyond just the pipe. When Romans’ left palm had become completely coated in blisters the grey man had handed him walking stick and instructed him to bring it down hard on his own back instead. And then his shoulders. The side of his face. His left palm.

The grey man never touched him himself.

He didn’t have any need to.

Whenever there was a pause between punishments he ordered Roman to stillness. Time which Roman happily spent fantasising, first of smashing the stick down across the grey man’s head, then of pressing his own eyes to the hot pipe.

Even if they took him home – he could not allow himself to lay eyes on Remus. That was the one thing he could not fail on.

“Did you kill your father?” asked the grey man.

“Yes.”

The stress of raising Romulus, of hiding the curse; there was no doubt he’d contributed to his fathers early death. It was true, at least to him.

“Did you curse your brother?”

“Yes.”

When he was a little boy there had been a phase where he tried to put a curse on Remus daily, and Remus him. The kind of curses they dreamed up were for itchy feet and stinky farts, and none of them had worked, but it was still technically true.  

“Why?”

“I was jealous of my brother.”

If Roman had only been born a half hour earlier he could have avoided a lifetime of being second best. He could have avoided his curse. Grown up with his Father instead of Julius. Not that he would wish any of that on Remus but. It was natural, surely, to be a little jealous of his brothers freedom.

“Good.”

Julius’ face smiled down at him. He reached out with the grey mans hands to stroke Romulus’ hair, like he sometimes did when he was a child. “You see Romulus, there is always a way to work within the confines of your curse, so long as you are willing to look for it. I taught you that.”

“Where are you?” Romulus whispered.

“I am waiting for you.” he smiled. “I have no sons Romulus, no one to pass the Stewardship to. And we must think about the future of our kingdom. When you are back, we can write a new story.”

“You…you’re ruler?”

Romulus frowned. There was a missing piece here but he couldn’t find it. The heat and pain were making his brain slosh against the inside of his skull. He found himself leaning in to the hand in his hair, even as revulsion rippled through him. “If you’re ruler then where’s –“

“Where’s the serpent?”

Roman blinked. Looking up, he found that Julius was gone again, the grey mans expressionless face staring back at him.

“What?”

“The serpent. Where is he?”

“I don’t – I don’t know what you mean.” Romulus held his injured arm close to his chest, curling over it protectively.

He heard the disappointed sigh and flinched even before the grey man brought his other hand to Romans’ bruised shoulder, squeezing hard.

“Look at me.”

Romulus did, eyes bright.

“I know he has left his prison. I know he was with you at that inn. I sent that stupid boy to get him and he found you.”

“I don’t know what you mean!” Romulus wailed, hating the childish wobble in his voice. “There wasn’t anyone else at the inn.”

“No?”

Julius eyes were peering out of the grey man again, a cruel glint to them. ”You were alone?”

“Yes.” Roman told him. Voice steady.

He’d entered the inn alone. He’d sat in the room alone. Climbed out of the window alone. Anything else was none of Julius’ business.

Before the grey man could speak again, a clatter from the next room made them both jump.

“Hmph. He’s early.” the grey man murmured.  “Get back to your place.” He gestured to the pipe Roman had originally been tied to and, haltingly, Roman crawled towards it, sprawling at the base.

“If The Marquis asks, tell him nothing about your injuries.” the grey man added lazily, taking up his position in the centre of the room, fading back into the background.

Roman grunted. It wasn’t a bad plan: his most visible injuries – the burns on his hand which he couldn’t stand to look at – could be explained away as being caused by the very pipe Lucius had tied him to. As usual, nothing could ever be pinned on Julius.

They waited. But neither the Marquis or his men appeared.

The grey man stood across from him, gazing out into the darkness of the next room. Roman wasn’t even worth looking at.

He slumped further against the pipe and tried to focus on breathing. There wasn’t a single place on his body that didn’t hurt, though the worst by far was his hand. He shivered from cold, which, given the heat of the room, couldn’t be a good sign. He let his eyes slip closed. Exhaustion threatening to take him again.

And then he felt a soft pressure on his lap.

“Mrrp.”

Roman opened his eyes. Then he closed them again.

He opened one eye. It was still there.

“Mister Mittens?” he asked, slightly hysterically.

Romulus and Remus had grown up with dogs. He wasn’t sure if cats were supposed to be able to feel smugness, but this once clearly did. It butted it’s head against Roman’s chin with another self-satisfied “Mrrp.”

“What?“ The grey man was staring at the pair of them, looking as confused as his expressionless face could manage. “Where did that thing come from?”

Roman was saved from having to answer by a crossbow bolt. One that came through the open door, burying itself in the grey man’s skull.

Chapter 7

Extra warnings

Consent stuff – Roman relives a memory of being sexually assaulted (he doesn’t necessarily think of it in those terms). A drunk man kisses him and pushes him against a wall. The man tells Roman to ‘kiss me’ without knowing anything about Romans curse. They are interrupted before it goes beyond kissing. (whether anything else would have happened, or whether the man would have stopped if he had known about the curse, is not shown in the text). It is implied that this sort of situation has happened to Roman before, and that it has gone further, but this is not explicit.

Violence stuff – Roman is tortured in this chapter. This includes cutting, burning and beating with a stick. The majority of this is not described in explicit detail but it’s certainly going on. Due to the nature of his curse, most of this takes place due to another character ordering him to hurt himself. Roman briefly contemplates burning his own eyes (for ‘trying to get around my curse’ reasons rather than ‘self harm’ reasons) . Someone also gets shot in the head with a crossbow. Roman also spends most of this chapter dehydrated and suffering from heat stroke .

I’m not totally sure what this falls under but its grim stuff – a character from romans past spends a lot of this chapter tyring to gas light him/ manipulate him into believing a set of false memories. Roman retains his correct memories but gets hurt a lot in the process. Meeting said character causes Roman to dissociate (I think this is the correct term but please correct me if I’m wrong), he continuously switches between his name and his childhood name during the chapter and at some points reacts as if he was a child.