#Though people do think they can take advantage of her better nature

[dutybcrne]

Thinkings thinkings of Fatui!Kaeya have been reawakened in reviewing Arle's teasers/animations

[604to647]

Brandy by the Fireplace

7.8K / Frankie Morales x City Girl!reader

Summary: When your best friend's boyfriend invites her up to the cabin he owns with his Delta Force buddies, she asks you to come along.

Warnings: None! Fluff! Insecurity and anxiety on reader's part, but Frankie makes it better (anxiety/comfort. My anxious girlies (gn) who think everyone hates them when they definitely don't? This one's for you 🥹). Nicknames because it's me. Oh, and Tom's alive?

A/N 1: Written and very late for @auteurdelabre's Trope Off Challenge - the trope here is Fish out of water because, well you know🤭🤭 Can be considered a Triple Frontier AU, or set before the events of the movie. Though I'm not sure I'm 100% satisfied with this and the word count got away from me, I still think it's cute and very seasonal - I hope others do too!

A/N 2: As I understand it, the cottage v. cabin lexiconic difference is a Canadian thing. When people think of cottage country, it's primarily the luxury getaway experience in the Muskokas. Super fancy! Celebrities cottage there (the Beckhams, Cindy Crawford) and the properties are huge lakefront estates. While in Western Canada, people primarily have cabins - they're more rugged, remote. In no way am I saying that cottages are better than cabins! They are just different - both enjoyable and picturesque in their own way. But you gotta know what you're in for, cause of packing and stuff... 😅😅

Trailer / CABIN dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘😘

This was such an effing mistake.

You sniffle as you sit cross-legged on the simple threadbare sheets covering the thin mattress that you’ve called bed for the last two nights.  You’re holding your favourite fleece sweater in your hands, looking at the scorch marks where flareups from tonight’s bonfire had jumped from the pit and burned multiple holes - the black charred spots on the fabric blurring as your tears finally spill over.

I shouldn’t have come.

A ruined sweater in and of itself wasn’t the end of world.  But a ruined sweater here? Tonight? It’s just the freaking cherry on top of the already disastrous sundae that was this weeklong vacation so far.

And you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself.

When your best friend Jenny begged you to come with her to her boyfriend’s cabin for a week, you had readily agreed.  You love Benny and he and Jenny are so adorable, if not a bit too overly mushy and cheesy (“We’re the better Bennifer!  Woo - Benny and Jenny!!”).  He and his old army buddies had gone in together on a cabin on a lake about seven hours out of the city at the suggestion of their Veterans Affairs therapist – something about working the land and finding serenity in nature to help them overcome some of the harder things they’ve seen over their time in service.

It apparently did wonders for them.  Both Benny and his older brother, Will, who you had met a few times, were easy going and kind men - maybe a little rough and tumble with each other sometimes, but you didn’t see it as anything more than filial comradery and brotherly love.  Jenny assured you that Benny’s other friends, Santi, Tom and Frankie were all cut from the same cloth.

Benny had invited Jenny up to the cabin for the boys’ annual Autumn weeklong trip – taking advantage of any remaining mild weather from the end of summer to clean and close up the cabin for the Fall and Winter.  All the boys would be there and Tom’s sisters had been invited as well – Jenny begged you to come for support and of course you had said yes.

Sure, you’re a city girl through and through, but this wouldn’t be your first cottaging experience.  You fondly recall the summers and Thanksgivings you had been invited to your college roommate’s family cottage in the Muskokas: crystalline waters and lush greenery bordered the beautifully landscaped acreage upon which your still close friend’s family’s 9 bedroom-9 bath modern estate resided.  Summer days were wiled away on the built-in dock lounging and reading, and the cooler temperature evenings were spent inside by one of the several contemporary fireplaces, sipping on cocktails and nibbling on charcuterie.  It was always such a treat to go - you haven’t visited in ages, but a similar getaway right now sounds like heaven.

Your first clue that perhaps this might not be the Muskoka cottage country experience you imagined, is when the last leg of your seven-hour journey in Benny’s truck was over a 30-minute dirt road so twisty and uneven that you started to feel a little nauseous. 

When you got out of the truck, you realized the true folly of your assumptions about where you were going to be staying this week.  The property could best be described as rustic and very "nature forward", the only evidence of landscaping being the dirt worn paths that led to the different cabins.  Instead of one main house, there is a Main Cabin – consisting of a living room area, place to eat, kitchen and the compound’s one bathroom.  All guests stay in individual cabins, isolated and spaced out at various points on the large property. Each so far apart and separated by the lush, dense forest, you don't even know where they all are: Upper Cabin (Benny and Jenny), Delta Cabin (Santi), Bunk Cabin (Frankie), Screened-In Veranda Cabin (You), New Cabin (Tom’s Sisters), Outhouse Cabin (no one), Grizzly Cabin (Will and Tom).

You’re not opposed to roughing it a little, but by the error of your own expectations, you’ve come thoroughly unprepared for your week’s stay.  For one thing, your cabin (as the name would suggest), along with all the others, has no windows - only screens.  Perfect for the hot summers, but with Fall coming early this year, the clothes you packed aren’t warm enough to shield you against the chill that blows over your bed each night.  For another, you find yourself sharing space with more critters that you were expecting, and not the adorable furry types either.

The frog that came out of the one toilet made you almost consider using the outhouse up by the parking lot (almost). And when you were washing your face that first night, the realization that the running tap was the only thing that was keeping the cricket from jumping out of the sink, forced you to stifle a scream that left your throat hoarse. There are all together more bugs indoors than you had expected (since you had expected windows). 

It's definitely more rustic that you’re used to, but you really do try to make the best of it.  The last thing you want is to appear rude or snobbish about the decidedly non-luxurious state of your accommodations.  Sure, it isn’t the glamourous cottage experience you had expected, but it’s still incredibly beautiful and serene here.  Moreover, you know that every cabin and amenity on the property was built by Benny and his friends and has served incredible therapeutic purpose for each of them.  You would never want to diminish that by somehow implying that the cottage isn’t… cottaging; this place serves a much more important purpose than impressing the likes of city girls guests like you.

You also don’t forget that the entire reason you’re here is to support Jenny.  Make sure she and Benny have fun.  And they are! Inseparable, giddy, googly-eyed fun.  No way are you going to ruin her perfectly good time by letting her worry about you, not when this is the first healthy relationship she’s had in years.

And honestly, everyone is so, so nice.  Benny and Will’s Delta Force teammates are as good humoured and sweet as they are.  There’s Santiago (or Santi), the unofficial leader of the crew – his hooded brown eyes look like they could tell a hundred stories, but he keeps your group entertained with the loudest and most fantastic ones, always framing his stories so that they rib at least one of his buddies.  Tom, the eldest of the friends, is more serious – the type who might exude an intimidating gravitas if you were to meet him alone, but next to the verbose energy of Benny and Santi and under the watchful eye of his sisters, he seems to relax, smiling pleasantly and genuinely while in the comforting presence of his friends.  Will, who is just as boyishly handsome as his brother, you already know to be as easy going and funny - though maybe a little less goofy than Benny.  Despite what Jenny had slyly insinuated to you before you left, you don’t think Will has any interest in you – and with Tom’s gorgeous and outgoing sisters both vying for his attention, the circumstances aren't right to try and see if there’s anything to Jenny's (and possibly Benny’s?) matchmaking. 

The last member of the friend group is Frankie, who the guys sometimes inexplicably call ‘Catfish’ – he was noticeably reserved at first, though you soon realize that he’s just as funny and generous as the others.  Frankie's steely and calm countenance seems borne out of necessity, likely from the many years of service where his competence and levelheadedness were needed to keep the other four in check, alive.  You notice that he often sits a little further back from the group, most likely out of habit, literally watching their backs; he’s quieter and less rowdy, but never fails to join in his friends’ laughter – it’s obvious to you that he loves his brothers in arms.  Once or twice, you think you feel Franke's deep, soulful eyes pointed in your direction, but when you try to meet his gaze, those same eyes disappear beneath the brim of his worn Standard Oil cap that never seems to leave his head.  You think you probably imagine it. 

Everyone is so much fun to be around, super nice and completely welcoming of you.

They just… don’t really need you here.  Well, that seems presumptuous!  Rather, there doesn’t seem to be a place for you here the same way there is for everyone else.

It was evident from the first day when the boys pulled a small catamaran out of the boathouse and attempted to try (again, from what you’re told) to put it together and get it out on the water.  Every person was asked to help pull on the trampoline netting – when it was evident that your limited strength and poor (manicured) grip on the netting wasn’t actually doing anything except making you an extra body in the way, you were relegated to standing on the side, holding a spray can of lubricant and waiting to spray it on the track if someone needed.  No one ever did.  The trampoline never got installed, and you can’t help but think it was partially because you hadn’t been able to provide the additional muscle needed.

During the day, everyone seems to engage in some type of cabin maintenance work from an unseen to-do list: painting screens, sanding down the canoe, pulling up old raspberry bushes, fixing doors and hinges in various cabins, retiling the one shower and installing a new sliding glass door, replacing the hot water pump’s aging parts, reinforcing the mesh around the young fruit trees to deter deer, repairing the older slats on the dock, removing the beaver dam under the dock, and so on and so forth.

All things you have absolutely no qualifications to help with and would likely hinder someone who did if you tried.

Jenny wasn’t terribly handy either, but she tagged along with Benny on all his chores and he didn’t mind patiently explaining and helping her help him with his tasks - the two of them giggling and in love as they winterized the boat shed.

Everyone else seems to know their daily assignments and go about their hard and dirty labour, leaving you alone to… do nothing?  It felt rude to sit out on the lawn and relax while others did work around you.  And even inside there's not much you can do; Tom’s sisters had brought up food for the first few meals and when you asked them if you could help, they insisted that they had it in hand and told you to “go have fun”.  You chastise yourself for having not asked more questions about what you and Jenny could have brought and if you and her could have signed up to cook your share of meals.

You hide out in the Main Cabin or in your own for most of the day, reading and feeling guilty - coming down periodically to chat with people but feeling like you’re distracting them from their duties.

Even after dinner when you volunteered to help do the dishes and clean-up, you were cheerfully shooed away by Santi after you couldn’t find where to put back the cutlery, then the glasses, then the lids to the pots (which were inexplicably kept separate from the pots themselves) – you’re sure there’s a system, you just don’t know what it is.

Maybe it would be different if you knew everyone better, but this is the first time you’re meeting everyone except Benny and Will.  You don’t know any of the guys particularly well but you do know that this cabin is their special place – you don’t want be a bother or ruin anyone’s good time.

To you, it's clear that you’re not carrying your weight here - the last thing you want to be is a nuisance as well. You don’t fit in and you definitely don’t belong. 

Tonight has finally felt a little more comfortable.  After a full day of work for everyone (else) and a belly bursting dinner, the boys set up a bonfire and everyone got together to roast marshmallows and make s'mores.  In addition to looking forward to the melty treats, you were secretly glad for the warmth of the fire in the chilly evening air.  Beers were cracked, marshmallows burnt, and the stories the boys told had your sides aching from so much laughter you’re sure you’ll still feel it in the morning.  But as the fire was dying, the conversation turned to what everyone’s up to tomorrow, you once again have nothing to say that's comparable to the tasks and chores listed by the others.  When Tom comments that there are still so many things to do in order to properly winterize the cabins and that it’ll be a wonder if it all gets done, you look down at your feet - face burning from the guilt and shame of being unable to contribute when help is indeed needed.  You’re sure everyone is thinking that you’re just a freeloader from the city, or worse, lazy and unwilling to put in some work.  Suddenly the last few bites of the s'more in your hand don’t look as appetizing anymore.

You excuse yourself from the group and quickly get ready for bed before heading up to your cabin for the night.  Once settled in, that’s when you discover that your sweater is full of newly burnt holes and you lose it.

Luckily, the cabins are all fairly far apart so no one can hear your crying, but your gratitude for the isolation and quiet of the cabins is short-lived; as it's been every night, the silence of the woods in the dark is deafening.  So used to the ambient noise of the city, you find that every snap of a branch or hoot of an owl slices through the night and rings out as loud as a gunshot.  You lay in bed like each night before, unable to get comfortable or calm and falling asleep only when exhaustion overtakes you.

The next morning, you wake to the sound of chirping birds and the brightness of the morning sun punctuated by the shouts and loud chatter from down near the water where people are already starting their daily chores.  Another wave of guilt and anxiety sets in as you feel like you’ve had an undeserved lie-in - resting while everyone else got up early to do work.

On your way down to the Main Cabin, you see and wave good morning to Frankie who’s transporting relatively heavy chunks of wood tucked under his beefy arms.  You don’t ask if you can help – how could you? Each stump he carries looks like it could topple you over even if you managed to lift one. 

When you get down to the lawn, you catch Will and Tom’s sisters as they head up to one of the cabins with paint cans and brushes and Will cheerily calls to you, “Saved you some breakfast!”  His completely innocent and kind pronouncement sends your already tightly strung heart into another spiral and you try not to tear up as you call back your thanks.

You eat by yourself from the plates left out for you and feel a little better when you can at least wash them and leave them in the drying rack.  Pouring yourself the coffee that’s left in the cannister, you grimace at it’s lukewarmness, but you don’t know where the grounds are kept or even how to operate the ancient stovetop coffee maker to make more, so you make do and drink it sort of sadly as you return to the dining table and open your book.

It's here where Frankie finds you a few hours after you saw him last.

He asks kindly after your book before saying he’s going to make a fresh pot of coffee and offers to top you off; when you get up to help – he tells you he’s got it before disappearing into the kitchen.  Slightly discouraged, you sit back down; unless you spy on Frankie, there’s no way for you to learn how to make the coffee here - and you’re just debating if you should do just that when he pokes his head back in, “Do you want me to show you how to make the coffee?”

Eagerly, you nod and hurry to join him in the kitchen, making note of where the fresh coffee grounds are stored and listening attentively as Frankie patiently shows you how to work the vintage contraption that Santi rescued from a yard sale.  He smiles at your willing face, wondering why you’re so fascinated by something as mundane as their overly complicated coffee maker, but when you thank him, voice almost quivering with overly emotional gratitude, Frankie’s sure there’s more to it than he’s understanding.

He's been watching you, Benny’s girlfriend pretty friend, over the last two days and can't quite figure you out.  It’s clear that you’re not used to roughing it in these types of conditions, but you don’t complain or make fun – though there is a tinge of melancholy and anxiety to the gentleness of your expressions that he does understand all too well.  You seem sweet and friendly, and Benny certainly speaks warmly of you – but for some reason, you don’t seem entirely comfortable and Frankie wouldn’t be the Army strategist he is if he didn’t notice.  Or a very good host.

“Do you want to go for a row while the coffee drips?”

“A row?”  You look up, confused.

“Yeah, in the row boat.  Come on – this old thing takes forever. We could probably get a good way to the middle of the lake and head back before it’s done,” nods Frankie, encouragingly.

This is the first time since the disastrous catamaran trampoline that anyone has asked you to do anything with them during the day, and you’re surprised by how touched you are by the simple gesture.  Unable to find the words to express how appreciative you feel, you simply nod.

Frankie pushes the old tin boat that you saw him sealing and painting on the beach yesterday partway into the water, helping you in first before pushing the boat all the way in then jumping in himself, two big wooden oars under his arm.  He sits across from you, locks the oars into the oarlocks and starts rowing; his powerful arms rotating the paddles with ease, slicing them through the clear, calm water and gently gliding the boat across the lake.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, and you look over the side of the boat in wonder as the sand bed below slowly disappears and the water gets darker and deeper.  Sighing, you contently breathe in the fresh, crisp Fall air and enjoy the picturesque view of the far off shores and mountains before settling your gaze on the handsome man in front of you.  The ripples and flex of Frankie’s bulging muscles under his shirt as he expertly rows are near mesmerizing, every hypnotic stroke powerful and purposeful.

“You’re not having fun, are you?”

You look up, ashamed.  You've been trying so hard to hide that you're not 100% comfortable being here, it's embarrassing to get confirmation that you've failed in this regard.  Even if the others could tell you weren’t having fun, you hope you haven’t come off as an ungrateful guest or made any of your hosts feel bad.  You’re about to say so and apologize, but something about the way Frankie’s looking at you, kind and soft and not at all judgmental or accusatory, gives you pause.  It’s like he’s genuinely extending an opportunity for you to let go of what you’ve been bottling up since you got here – maybe that’s why he brought you out to the middle of the lake?  Frankie's sincere eyes bore into your own and his gentle demeanor invites you to let down your guard; deflating, you burst into tears, “I’m not!! I’m so sorry, Frankie!!”

Hurriedly, you try to compensate, “Goodness, please don’t think I’m complaining – it’s so beautiful and peaceful here, and Benny told me how much effort you guys have put into this place!  Honestly, your care and hard work really shows – everything is so nice.  It’s just really, really different from the one other cottage experience I’ve had – so I didn’t even pack right.  And I thought there would be a lot more relaxing and lazing around – I really don't know what to do with myself here.”

“Where did you cottage before?”

“The Muskokas?”

Frankie lets out such a loud, belly-shaking laugh that shakes the whole boat; you actually hold onto the sides afraid you might tip over, but find yourself beaming at having drawn out this melodic sound from the normally stoic man.

“Well, City Girl, no wonder this place was a shock to you!  The Muskokas is a very particular cottaging experience – real pretty and real glamourous.  But the rest of us?  What we have aren’t even cottages.  They’re cabins.  This is cabin country,” he laughs good naturedly.

“Right - cabins!” you grin.

“Sorry to disappoint you, City Girl.”

“No, no! Please don’t think that - I’m not disappointed at all! I just came in with the wrong expectations, that’s all.  That’s all on me, Frankie.  Really, the cabin is lovely – I was just expecting a more… cashmere sweaters and brandy snifters around the fireplace kind of a vibe.”  You hope Frankie won’t take your joke the wrong way.

Luckily, Frankie gives you another easy smile, one that reveals an adorable dimple in his right cheek you haven’t had a chance to notice before, “Yeah, we’re more of a bats in the ceiling, on-going maintenance kind of vibe.”

At this, your face falls and your own shortcomings to contribute when everyone else is working so hard claws at your chest painfully.

Frankie immediately clocks the change in your demeanor, “Hey, pretty girl, it’s okay.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes, too distressed to notice the new nickname, “No it’s not, Frankie.  You’re right – everyone is chipping in, helping out to keep this place beautiful and running smoothly, except me.  I’m not used to this kind work, so I don’t really know what needs to get done… and even if I did… I mean you saw with the catamaran?  I’m not strong or skilled enough to do any of it.  I thought I could help out with some of the indoor stuff, like cooking and cleaning up, but I don’t know where anything is and everyone is so busy, I feel like such a nuisance bothering them even more in order to show me.  So… I don’t know what I’m doing here – it doesn’t feel right to be sitting around and reading like I’m some kind of pampered houseguest while everyone around me is working, but I also don’t think I can add value anywhere.  I just don’t think I belong out here with you guys.  And I thought I was at least hiding it well, but it's obviously noticeable how much I don’t fit in because you rowed me out here to confront me about it.  I’m sorry to be so much trouble, Frankie.”

You take a deep breath after your long speech and look down at your lap, more embarrassed than ever.

Frankie leans over from his seat, causing the boat to rock slightly and tilts your face up to his with two of his thick fingers, “You’re no trouble at all, pretty girl.  It’s okay if this place is too rustic for ya.  It’s really rustic… and that’s by design.”  He smiles reassuringly, keen to comfort you, “I know Benny told you that this cabin is sort of therapy for us guys?  We saw some... less-than-ideal things on a lot of our missions.  All our missions, actually.  The VA counsellors suggested that we try and work through having seen so much that’s been broken, and maybe even having done some of the breaking ourselves, by getting a project where we come together as a team to focus on improving and building.  It’s meant to need constant ongoing maintenance and have a never-ending list of chores so we can put our energy into building up instead of what we used to do… tearing down.  For the most part, the cabin has been good for us – working with our hands, being responsible for something that isn’t life or death, working towards a common goal where we can be together and enjoy each other’s company in a setting that’s not… exploding.”

Frankie chuckles at his little joke so not to scare you off with the intensity of the topic.  He’s relieved to see that your expression is one of sympathy and understanding, your eyes warm and gentle.  He thinks your eyes are beautiful, deep, kind – he might easily get lost in them if he didn’t remember that he’s supposed to be comforting you, “It really is meant for the five of us to be putting in the work, but I know what you’re saying, it’s not a great feeling to be left out, even if you know no one’s doing it on purpose.  I’m sorry – we should be better hosts.  You’re our guest.”

You start to shake your head in protest at this, but Frankie stops you when he picks up the oars and dips them back in the water to start rowing again, “Tell you what, it’s my turn to make lunch today - why don’t you come and help me.  I’ll show you where we keep everything so you’ll know in case you ever want to… help out in the kitchen again.  I promise you can ask me any questions you want and it won’t bother me at all.”

Perking up at Frankie’s generous offer, you nod happily, “Okay! Thank you, Frankie – that’s really sweet of you.”  It’s probably the first truly joyful smile you’ve smiled since you got here and Frankie thinks you look radiant.

The two of you glide slowly across the still lake in comfortable silence, Frankie purposefully not putting too much power into his oar strokes.  Trying to discreetly wipe your cheeks, you feel their warmth as you spy on the handsome man across from you through your tear dotted lashes.  You feel so safe and cared for - your heart grateful that Frankie noticed you were out of sorts despite having only met you a few days ago and was considerate enough to ask after you.

His teasing voice cuts through your thoughts, “Is there anything else, City Girl?”

“Hmmmmm?”

“Is there anything else that's been bothering you while you’re out here?”

You bite your lip and shake your head; Frankie has been so kind, you don’t want to push it and appear to complain.

“Come on, I know there is.  Go on, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl – there’s that term of endearment again.  This time when you hear it, your heart swells and your face flushes – and maybe your thighs press together a little, too.  To try and cover up your reaction, you spill your last embarrassing grievance, “Ummmm… it’s kind of spooky at night.”

Frankie booms another side-splitting, deep rumble of a laugh and you instantly feel better, “It’s just sooooo quiet and everyone is so far from one another.  I guess I’m used to background city noises and the feeling of people being around.  It's been a bit unsettling laying in the dark in silence, hearing every little twig snap.” You cover your eyes, “Plus I packed so poorly for the trip because I thought it was going to be a… cottage.  I definitely didn’t bring warm enough clothes.  I brought a TON of self-care stuff though – maybe I should try layering some face masks.” It feels so good to be able to lightheartedly make fun of yourself again.

Frankie laughs with you, then looks thoughtful, “Ok, ok, the chilliness I think I can help you out with.  The spookiness… got to circle back to that.”

“Thanks, Frankie.”  You mean it sincerely.  Even having been able to talk to him about your unease makes you dread the upcoming night a lot less.

Back at the beach, Frankie hops out of the boat and reaches in to help you out - when your fingers touch his, a little spark lingers and your heartbeat picks up a bit.  Hand in hand, the two of you walk back to the Main Cabin together, not letting go until you enter the kitchen.

---

After Frankie patiently shows you the pantry, the freezers, and where all the kitchen items are, he makes sure you have a passing familiarity with everything before the two of you make wraps for everyone.  You find him to be endearingly funny, terribly sweet, and a wonderful conversationalist – Frankie tells you about his work and adventures as a charter pilot, and listens intently as you answer his questions about your work and life in the city.  You almost regret calling everyone in for lunch, but the feeling of being able to offer people something after their morning of hard work has brightened your spirits significantly - it feels like a tremendous weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

You don’t know that the obvious change in your countenance fills Frankie with pride and joy, nor do you see the way he gazes at you with fondness as you cheerfully hand out the wraps or when you jump up after lunch is over and hurry to clear the table.

The next day, you’re returning from a solo walk along the trail that runs behind the cabins on the bay, when you come upon an unfamiliar noise as you approach the boys’ property. 

It sounds like a loud and sharp sudden crack accompanied by a low manly grunt, then followed by a couple of softer thuds.  The echoing combination repeats it self at slightly varying intervals and gets progressively louder until you come upon its source.

From behind a large Spruce tree, you see that it’s Frankie chopping wood.

Frankie repeatedly brings his axe down on the log pieces he’s set up on the chopping block with precision and power.  His sweat soaked shirt is stretched taut across his broad back, the damp fabric doing nothing but accentuate the thick muscles that flex and contract with every burly movement.

Though Frankie’s breathing is heavy, you can tell he isn’t even close to being winded - his strength and rugged athleticism evident by the way he relentlessly labours on, splitting log after log.

Every subsequent swing of the axe captivates you further; a wetness pools in your mouth that you have to force yourself to swallow, lest it spill over and you get caught drooling.

"Wanna give me a hand, City Girl?"

Shit.

Emerging from behind what you now realize looks like a hiding spot, you give Frankie a sheepish smile, “Oh, ummm… you look like you have it pretty well handled.  Not sure if I could even make a dent in one of those logs.”

Frankie takes off his signature cap and uses the back of the same hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead - he chuckles and his eyes twinkle, “Could you help me gather and stack the wood I split onto that rack over there?  And bring me new logs to chop from that other pile there?”

You nod enthusiastically.  Frankie’s making work for you and you’re so thankful and excited to help.

For the next hour, you run around gathering the firewood that Frankie splinters and set him up with fresh logs.  When you apologize that it takes you so long to carry the larger rounds to him, he tells you not to worry – it gives him a chance to catch his breath and take a much-needed rest.  You don’t tell Frankie that he doesn’t look like he needs any rest at all – your own quickened breaths have very little to do with physical exertion and more to do with ogling Frankie’s broad and brawny frame, and the way the entirety of his strapping body is thrown into each axe swing, every muscle engaged, tensed.  It’s similar to the way he looked when he effortlessly rowed the two of you in the tin boat across the lake, but like… a hundred times more burly.

You try to distract yourself from openly drooling at Frankie’s sweat soaked torso by expertly arranging the firewood on the rack so that it fits perfectly together like a Tetris puzzle.  When the last piece has been placed on top, Frankie marvels that the firewood storage has never looked more organized and with one hand still holding on to his axe, he takes your soft hand in his other and leads you down to lunch.

Over the next couple of days, you notice that Frankie goes out of his way to make sure you’re not alone or hiding out in any of the cabins.

He takes you out in Benny’s truck to run in-town errands like picking up additional groceries or getting gas for the boat.  These trips are always filled with fun and easy conversation and end with a treat at the ice cream shop on the main road.  Frankie teases you on how you always flit from freezer to freezer, determined to try a flavour you’ve never had, and you groan at how he sticks to his tried-and-true mint chocolate chip.

You’re getting bolder at offering to do the indoor, more domestic tasks and chores that you know you have the skills to handle like making meals and cleaning up; more often than not, without you asking, Frankie will join you in the kitchen.  Even though you tell him to relax and that he deserves rest after his physical exertions of the day, Frankie stays and hangs out - casually drying dishes, tasting your sauces, leaning his massive figure against the counter and discreetly pointing to various cabinets and drawers when you forget where things go.

Frankie makes you laugh with his quippy jokes and clever little observations, and he makes your cheeks warm with his subtle and sweet flirting.  But mostly, he makes you feel so included, relaxed and accepted – his kindness at having taken you under his wing and giving priority to your comfort and enjoyment at the cabin makes your heart positively sing. 

Since the day he took you out on the rowboat, Frankie has come to visit you in the Screened-In Veranda cabin every night.  The first night, it’s to bring you extra blankets and one of his thick hoodies – all of it you accept gratefully; he also brings a pack of playing cards and the two of you play Big Two until you can barely keep your eyes open. Making sure you're bundled up in his hoodie, Frankie leaves you to sleep under a comically thick stack of blankets and happily swathed in his manly musk.

The next night, he brings you an old worn box of Rummy-O, explaining that he and the boys try to buy old games from garage sales to bring up to the cabin, even ones they’ve never played before.  You’ve never played either, and for the next few nights, you and Frankie spread the tiles over your bedspread and become Rummy-O experts, stopping only when you’re too tired to keep playing - then and only then does Frankie leave you before traipsing back to his own cabin.

Embarrassingly, it takes you until tonight to figure out what he's up to.

“I know what you’re doing,” you grin in the dimly lit cabin as Frankie dons a Korean face mask and lets you give him a cuticle oil treatment.

“I’m getting pampered,” Frankie murmurs from where he lays, careful not to move his face lest the sheet mask slips.

“You’ve been keeping me company every night until I get sleepy so I don’t have to lie here in the dark and be scared,” you look at him warmly, in awe of this tender-hearted man’s goodness.

You see one eye open in the eye hole cut-out of the mask and the corners of the one for the mouth tug up a little, “Has it been working?”

“Yes and thank you.  And I think your hoodie and the blankets you brought really helped too – the nights feels way cozier now.”

“Good.  I’m glad.  Now do you have anything that’s going to help with these bags under my eyes?”

You cackle, sure that the sound of your and Frankie’s joint laughter must carry clear across the lake.

It’s the last night at the cabin and the whole group is out tonight for another bonfire.  You’re nice and snug in Frankie’s hoodie, giggling with Jenny, who you feel like you’ve barely seen this whole week – she fills you in on all eight hundred of the adorable things Benny has done for her this week and you’re over the moon seeing her so completely in love.  The entire group is in great spirits, toasting to another successful season at the cottage, all the shared memories, new and old stories to tell, and the delicious food eaten over this week.  Your dinners for the latter half of the week are praised, and when you bury your face in the oversized sleeves of Frankie's hoodie in embarrassment, you feel his strong arm curl proudly around your shoulders and you positively kvell. 

The drinks flow liberally tonight with no one needing to wake up early and the only chore on anyone’s list being packing.  About halfway through tonight’s bonfire, Frankie slips away from the group; everyone is too caught up in their own conversations to notice it, but you immediately miss having his comforting presence close by.  You’re just about to ask Jenny for the tea on why Tom’s sisters seemed to be giving Will the cold shoulder when you hear Frankie’s dulcet baritone low in your ear, “Hey, City Girl, can I show you something?”

Getting up, you leave the others at the bonfire and follow Frankie back into the Main Cabin.  He ushers you towards the main living room and when you enter, the sight that greets you stops you in your tracks with a gasp.  The darkened room is lit bright and warm from the fire that Frankie’s laid in the fireplace, the flames crackling slow and calm – he must have been stoking it for a while.  In front of the glowing fire is a little carpeted area with cushions arranged purposefully to create a makeshift sitting area.  In the middle sits two brandy snifters filled with an amber gold liquid.

“Frankie, what’s all this?” you exclaim, eyes bright as you turn to look at the handsome, affectionate man who brought you here.

Gesturing for you to sit down in front of the gently roaring fire and handing you one of the glasses as you settle in, Franke shyly explains, “Wasn’t able to swing any cashmere sweaters, but I wanted to give you your brandy by the fireplace cottage experience.”

Rendered speechless by how cute and thoughtful Frankie is - all you can do is give him a doe-eyed look of awe as you sip the liquor he managed to procure.  For you.

“Thank you, Frankie.  This is perfect.  But if I’m being honest, I’ve quite warmed up to the cabin experience,” you tease.

“Good,” the tenor of Frankie’s voice is warm with the undercurrent of what’s not yet been spoken out loud.

As you both enjoy your fireside libations, you joke and flirt, keeping the conversation light - somehow tip-toeing around what’s happening between the two of you.  Your bodies, though, pay your shyness no mind, inching closer and closer until you’re practically in Frankie’s lap.  The conversation grows quieter as words are replaced by looks of longing and want until all you seem to be doing is studying the dark and rough lines of Frankie’s face, the plushness of his lips, the adorable heart shaped patch in his facial scruff.

With one final sip of brandy, the soothing burn of the liquor down your throat gives you that final push of liquid courage and you drop your gaze from Frankie’s soft chocolate brown eyes down to his waiting mouth.  Not so innocently, you lick you lips at the sight.

Then Frankie is on you, crashing his lips to yours – the empty snifters rolling away on the carpet as you pour yourself into his mouth, open wide and inviting.  This first kiss is nothing short of sensual and desperate, the feelings that have been simmering over the past week boiling over until you’re both a mess of tongues, moans and clashing teeth.

“Oh Frankie,” your soft whimpers a welcomed song to his ears, Frankie returns your sentiments by licking behind your teeth, exploring and stroking into your receptive mouth with a fiery passion.  His hands maneuver you to straddle him so that he can better feel you, roaming your back until one hand comes to a rest at the nape of your neck, the other under one of the pert globes of your ass, using them as leverage to press you flush against his chest.

As your hands go to run through Frankie’s soft waves, you knock his favourite cap onto the ground and you giggle loudly when it lands near the now forgotten brandy snifters with a little thud.  Frankie feels himself harden at the melodic sound.

You make out like teenagers, tongues dancing and teeth nibbling until you both run out of air and have no choice to break apart, panting.

“Been wanting to do that since I saw you your first day here, City Girl,” admits Frankie, eyes tender and sincere as he rests his forehead against yours.

Leaning in to lightly peck his lips, you’re surprised but can’t help teasing, “What took you so long, Morales?”

Frankie chuckles, though his eyes flash with a bolt of insecurity, “Wasn’t sure you would want to.  Benny said something about how he wanted to try and set you up with Will.”

Your face scrunches up with astonishment - so Jenny wasn’t just being facetious!  But you quickly cup Frankie’s face and run your thumbs reassuringly through his adorable scruff, “I don’t know anything about that.  But what I do know is that I can’t resist a kind hearted, handsome man who goes out of his way to take care of me, never judges me and makes me feel comfortable without pushing me to be someone I’m not.  You, Frankie – I can’t imagine wanting anyone but you to kiss me.”

Taking this as the invitation it is, Frankie slots his mouth over yours once more.  This second kiss is slower, deeper, and full of promise.  You sigh as Frankie’s tongue slides over yours in a slow and intimate waltz and his lips find yours again and again and again.

“Querida,” he murmurs, “when we get back to the city, can I take you out to dinner?”

Grinning at having earned yourself another nickname, you tuck yourself into the nook under Frankie’s chin and press one, two, three soft kisses to his neck while nodding, “I’d love that, Frankie.”

The next morning you wake up well rested, with a strong arm banded over your body and Frankie’s hard chest pressed up against your back.  Slipping slowly back to consciousness, you can’t help but smile as the memories of the previous night come flooding back.  Frankie came back up to your cabin with you and stayed to keep you company as he had the previous nights, but instead of games or spa treatments, he kept you awake with the hard and soft kisses of his expert mouth and innocent touches that by the end of the night, didn’t feel quite so innocent anymore.  Lips swollen after hours of making out, Frankie had tucked in with you under the covers and held you close, lulling you to sleep with evenness of his breathing and the soothing rise and fall of his chest.  Rolling over, you find Frankie already slowly blinking awake, “Good morning, City Girl.  Did you sleep okay?”

You nod into his shoulder, “Slept perfect, Frankie.  Coziest night here with my own personal furnace.”

Frankie chuckles, “I like waking up with you like this, pretty girl.  Like seeing you wearing my clothes, too.”

Shyly, you gaze into Frankie’s eyes, heart beating faster at his look of adoration, “I like it too, Frankie.  Waking up with you, wearing your clothes.”

After some tender and sweet kisses under the covers, the two of you manage to get out of bed so you can pack and get ready for the trip home.

Right before he closes the door to the Screened-In Veranda Cabin, Frankie turns around, “Wanna ride with me on the way back, City Girl?”

“Sure!  What about Santi and Will?”  You can’t help but get excited about the prospect of a long road trip with Frankie.

“They can go with Benny.  Or Tom.  Well at least Santi can ride with Tom.  Don’t think Tom’s sisters will let Will into Tom’s truck,” Frankie looks genuinely amused and you once again spot that cute dimple make an appearance in his right cheek.

“Omigod!  I meant to ask Jenny about that – what happened??”

Frankie throws you a heart-stopping wink, one that nearly sends your knees buckling, “Tell you on the way home, querida.”

---

A few hours later, everyone’s packed bags are stowed in their respective cars, the cabins locked, boats put away for the winter, and sheets and laundry stripped to go back to the city to be cleaned.

“Ready to go, City Girl?” grins Frankie, “Bet you can’t wait to get home.”

Buckling your seatbelt and looking fondly at the sweet man who made sure you felt seen and cared for this week, you say, almost wistfully, “It’s not that bad here.”

Pressing a tender kiss to your lips, Frankie nuzzles your nose affectionately with his before putting the car in reverse.  Steering the wheel one-handedly with his other big paw cupping the back of your headrest, he winks, “Cottage country ain’t got nothing on cabin country, am I right, querida?”

You giggle as he straightens out the car and take the hand that Frankie’s holds out to you over the centre console, “Only the cashmere sweaters, but other than that, nothing.”

Frankie brings your hand up to his lips, placing a sweet kiss to your knuckles as he starts down the windy dirt road in the direction of the city, “An easy fix for next time, City Girl.” 

Biting your lip to keep from smiling too much, you nod happily in agreement.  Next time.

[sunderwight]

Bingqiu AU where SY and LBH grow up as childhood friends (idk maybe they're both at QJP but Shen Jiu is less of an asshole, or maybe SY transmigrates into Random Village Bully Child No.3 when Binghe's mom is still alive -- or both) and there's none of the tension of the idea of "one day Luo Binghe is going to rip my limbs off" for Shen Yuan.

So he and LBH can just be bros! Fantastic! Shen Yuan has never had a little brother before but he's had a little sister, he knows how to do this. Just spoil the cute kid rotten!

It's only fair compensation for how many terrible things LBH is gonna have to endure on the road to ruling the world, after all. SY also feels more freedom to change minor aspects of the plot around, too, like maybe he'll stop Liu Qingge from dying, definitely he can help LBH get a better start to his cultivation journey, and maybe the abyss and xin mo thing doesn't really need to happen...?

The list of things SY considers meddling with ends up including wives.

Like really, come on now, Luo Binghe may be a stallion protagonist but there's no need for that many women. Especially when at least half of them are just increasingly cheap copies of the other half, and that's being generous about it. Some of PIDW Binghe's wives were, frankly, horrible people. And if he's being honest about it, it wasn't fair of Binghe himself to take on that many either. Even if anyone would naturally give their left arm to be the protagonist's wife, after a certain point Binghe just can't spend that much time actually with them! And then he can't form the kinds of deep and meaningful bonds which might actually help heal his trauma!

SY's not looking to interfere too much, of course. Ning Yingying is not his favorite wife, but she's fine. She causes trouble but it isn't on purpose, and she's genuinely sweet and willing to befriend Binghe before he's anything special (although even now, it's obvious Binghe is special). Ning Yingying can stay.

And of course, so can Best Wife Liu Mingyan.

But Sha Hualing? Well, she offers some political advantages, and as the demon wives go she's not the worst. She's kind of iconic and was very popular, but Shen Yuan thinks the harem could do without her scheming and malicious attitude towards the other wives. The cost of harmony was too high for the political bonuses offered, especially when Binghe might as well just take her ancestral lands by force and be done with it. He's going to advise against that match.

And the Qin sisters. Sure there's the legendary threesome, but Wanrong's dead weight and it never struck SY quite right how Qin Wanyue pressured Luo Binghe into sex. The threesome wasn't even good anyway.

Better Qin Wanyue than the Little Palace Mistress on that front, though. But aish, that's complicated, the Palace Mistress is even more politically vital to securing HHP than Sha Hualing is for her father's kingdom, and almost as bad for the peace and harmony of the harem. Ultimately SY will leave it up to Binghe, but if Binghe asks, he's going to advise against the Huan Hua wives too.

With thoughts like this in mind, SY starts talking to Binghe about how to establish a household, what to look for in a spouse (or twenty), and other topics of that nature. What sort of household Luo Binghe ought to strive to have, and what sorts of standards he should himself to. Also while of course assuring him that Shen Yuan isn't interested in women. Lest he worry that Shen Yuan might be trying to steal any of the wives from him, at any point. He's not competition!

SY: I am helping to pave the way for Binghe to have better marital relationships! I am the best big brother slash best buddy ever! don't worry, no matter what happens to Binghe, this gege will be your no.1 cheerleader forever!

LBH: is he saying I should get a palace if I want to marry him? well... that sounds reasonable. ok, I will do it! (•̀ ω •́)✧

[authorhjk1]

Can you please make a smut about MINA getting laid by some rich white guy after the fendi event.

Connections

Mina

Connections are everything. That's what Mina found out throughout the last couple of years. As along as she has friends that are up high enough, she can get anything. A better contract with JYP, her own house, a car, power, all of it.

And how does she become friends with those important people? It's simple actually.

Mina can't hide her smile as she walks towards the big building in front of her, cameras flashing while she waves.

It really is easy to make all those rich guys listen to her. It doesn't even take that long.

Throughout the event, she lays eyes on a guy who seems to be the most important man in the room. His suit looks really expensive. Her plans are disrupted though. Mina sees his wife hanging onto his arm.

A smirk plays around her lips before she takes a sip of the champagne. Since she is a huge introvert, people never pay much attention to her at these events as long as she doesn't speak too much.

But she can use that to her advantage. His wife looks way older than her. And Mina knows how pretty she is herself.

It really doesn't take long. She catches his eyes once. A couple of coy glances in his direction. A longer stare across the room that takes a couple of seconds. A seductive smile. A bite on her finger.

And here she is now. A couple of minutes later. In one of the rooms upstairs. The man's hands on her waist, his wife forgotten.

Mina feels how his lips travel along her neck. She let's out a moan as she tilts her head back.

She tried to justify her actions when she first started this. She told herself that she is only doing this for money and favours. But after a while, Mina liked the idea of some stranger fucking her. At an event where everyone else is oblivious.

"Let me see your cock."

Mina kneels on the carpet in front of him, giving him another seductive glance, before she starts to undo his pants. The man strokes her hair, encouraging her to take his cock into her mouth. It's not the biggest she's had, but it's more than enough to have fun with.

Her lips part as Mina starts her blowjob. Her hands are at the base of his shaft, slowly stroking him. He keeps his hand in her hair, occasionally pulling her a little further onto his cock.

"I'm usually not a woman like this."

She gives him a coy smile.

That's what she tells all of those guys. She found out that she can get even more favours like this. The men think they are something special to her.

"Really?"

He smiles down at her in disbelief.

"My parents are very conservative. I promised them that I would stay pure until marriage. But when I saw you..."

Mina's words trail off as she resumes her blowjob. She can feel how the man gets even harder at her words. She tries to hide her smile as she keeps sucking him off.

"How are you so good at this?"

He asks, while he feels how Mina's tongue glides along the length of his shaft with every bob of her head.

"I'm a natural, I guess."

She keeps up this fake innocence, knowing that this will be even more beneficial.

Mina can feel how this whole thing makes her pussy wet. Sucking off some stranger at an event. His wife downstairs. All of it makes her horny as fuck.

"You wanna put it in?"

"What?"

He is surprised. He thought, Mina would only give him head.

"I-I'm really needy."

No one can resist her coy smile. Especially if she is on her knees with a cock in her hand.

"Of course."

He helps her up, before letting his hands roam all over her dress. Mina sighs again as she feels his lips on her flawless skin. He kisses her shoulder, before he slowly pulls off the straps of her dress.

The top is now bunched up around her waist, exposing her tight midriff and her white bra. He doesn't know that Mina is wearing a push-up bra. She came prepared, ready to entice her next victim with her ample chest.

"Please hurry. We have to be downstairs soon. I don't want to be caught."

Mina is wet enough already, she doesn't need further stimulation. She let's her dress fall onto the floor, staying true to her own words.

He can't help but admire her slim figure. His wife hasn't looked this fit for a couple of years now. And Mina also looks a little younger. A little less experienced.

All of it drives him further into her trap.

He pushes her white underwear to the side, exposing her pussy.

Mina lets out a moan as he let's his fingers glide over her lower lips. He notices how wet she is. Her folds glisten with arousal.

The young woman leans against the wall behind her, the man leans down to kiss her lips. He plays with her pussy for a couple of moments as the two of them exchange a heated kiss.

"Please..."

Mina begs, asking him to fuck her. To forget about his wife. To cheat on her.

A lewd moan escapes her mouth as she feels his cock graze her pussy lips. Another one leaves her lips as he pushes inside of her.

He can't believe how tight Mina is. It makes his desires for her even stronger. He needs to fuck her. Hard.

Pushing further inside, he almost loses control, her walls hugging him almost painfully tight.

"Please... Please be gentle. You are so thick."

He smiles at her words, slowing down a little.

Mina stares up at him, her head resting against the wall as he slowly moves in and out of her pussy. Her hands find his shoulders, while his are holding onto her waist.

For the following minutes, the room is almost quiet. Except for the occasional moan from Mina and the man's groans. They either engage in a lustful kiss, or place their lips on each other's bodies.

Mina can feel how his grip on her waist becomes stronger over time. How his thrusts turn more powerful and deep.

Her legs quiver in response, his cock grazing her walls with every move. He stretches her out really well. Mina closes her eyes, enjoying this dirty feeling. This lewd moment.

It doesn't last much longer though.

"I-I think I'm close."

Mina opens her eyes again, feeling the man's cock twitch inside of her.

She starts to act innocent once again.

"W-Where can you cum so that no one notices?"

His low groan confirms that her magic is working.

"Maybe your pussy?"

It's a bold move. Mina manages to make herself blush.

"Wouldn't someone be able to see it, if it runs down my legs? And maybe even gets on my feet?"

"Aren't you gonna wear your panties?"

Mins nods, knowing he is only moments away from blowing his load.

"But I think it's too risky."

She lets a finger run along her lips.

"I'd rather swallow your cum."

The look on his face almost makes her laugh. He tries his best to keep himself together, lazily thrusting in and out of her, hoping he could postpone his orgasm as much as possible. But her last words finally trip him over the edge.

His cock slips out of her and Mina immediately kneels down again. Her face on the same height as his cock once more.

"Please cum in my mouth."

She sounds so innocent, while her words are laced with lust.

He can't help himself but thrust into her mouth. Her warmth welcomes him, her tongue working on his shaft.

He finally cums down her throat a couple of moments later. Mina feels his thick load paint her mouth. The saltiness makes her moan around his cock.

Mina smiles into the camera. As if nothing happened. But she can feel the lack of panties underneath her dress. She gave them to her new 'friend'. A sign for him to give her what ever she wants.

She can still taste a small hint of his cum on her tongue. Her smile is genuine. She is excited to go home.

--------

Sorry for the long wait, I hope this is what you had in mind.

For everyone else who plans to send in requests, please feel free to write more than just a sentence. Not because I lack ideas, but because we have different thoughts in our minds. I might interpret parts of your request wrong, or at least different. So please don't be disappointed, if these turn out differently from what you had in mind.

Thank you for reading.

Stay healthy!

[celiastjamesoscar]

Happiness is a Butterfly

Pairings: ghostface!Sam Carpenter x shy!reader

Summary: the plan was to tell you at some point, but Sam didn’t know how. Only when you find out by accident about your girlfriend’s activities, does Sam realize the consequences of continuing her father’s legacy.

Warnings: mentions of murder, protective Sam, one mention sexual abuse cases, hinted predator teacher, angst. Let me know if I missed any!

My Masterlist

AN: Came from this request! This wasn’t proof read at all, and I reread it once I wake up in the morning

Word Count: 9.9K

You sat in peaceful silence as you watched the TV. It was around 11 on a Friday night, and you were patiently waiting for your girlfriend, Sam, of eight months, to return home. You were over at her place, and you had been hanging out with Tara before she called it a night and went off to bed, leaving you alone in the quiet apartment as the soft voice of Daenerys Targaryen filled the air.

Usually, you would watch Game of Thrones with Sam, but with nothing better to do as you waited for your lover to return home from work, you rewatched the earlier seasons.

The sound of keys jingling at the door pulled you away from the TV, and you stood up from the couch as Sam walked into the apartment. “Hey,” she quietly said as she put up her purse and walked to you.

“Hey,” you replied with a smile as you kissed her for the first time since she left for work, “How was your day?”

Sam huffed at your question as she pulled you to the couch, “Better, now that you’re here,” she said as she sat on the sofa and pulled your legs into her leg.

“Well, I’m glad that I can help brighten your day,” you responded with a smile as you placed a quick kiss on your girlfriend’s lips, and she frowned at how short it was.

“Are you seriously watching Game of Thrones without me?” Sam questioned with a look of hurt as she watched the TV.

You scoffed at her words as you reached for the remote, “No, I was watching the older seasons while I waited for you. Do you really think I’m that evil?” You teased with a playful smile.

“Sometimes,” Sam quietly mumbled under her breath, hoping you didn’t hear her smartass comment, but luck had never been on her side.

“Well, then,” you said as you stood up from the couch, “If you want to complain about me, then I’ll just leave.”

“Come on, Y/N. I was just joking,” Sam whined as she watched you get up, hoping you were joking and weren’t upset, “Please sit back down.”

Deciding to take your joke a little further, you walked away from a disappointed Sam and into the kitchen. You heard your girlfriend groan, and you had to bit back a laugh as you grabbed a bottle of water before returning to your seat next to the woman.

You said nothing as you grabbed the remote, picked the episode you and Sam had left off on, and sipped your water before setting it on the coffee table and resting your head on Sam’s lap.

“I knew you weren’t actually mad,” Sam softly said as she ran her finger through your hair, and you hummed in response. You enjoyed these soft moments with Sam, even though she could be intense sometimes. You were naturally reserved and took to hiding in the shadows whenever you could, but when you were with Sam, you felt comfortable enough to let down your walls, and Sam loved that she brought you comfort.

Of course, because you were so reserved and passive, you let people take advantage of your niceness. You were never one to say no to people, so some nights, Sam would find you staying up until two in the morning finishing homework for people who only used you for their benefit.

Sam had tried to talk to you about letting people do this to you, but you shrugged it off and told her that you didn’t mind helping your colleagues occasionally. So, Sam became naturally protective of you, and if she were with you when someone asked you to do their homework, she would ‘politely’ tell them to fuck off. And you would hate to admit it, but you found it quite hot and flattering.

After you two finished an episode, you yawned and checked the time before groaning. “Come on, Sam. It’s time for bed,” you stated as you lifted your head from your girlfriend’s lap and stood up. Sam groaned as she stood up and followed you into her room, and she grabbed some clothes for her shower.

“Wanna join?” Sam asked with a mischievous smirk when she felt your eyes on her as she walked toward her bathroom. “You know, honey. There’s a gun in the footlocker in the garage. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to use it on me,” you replied, smiling as you followed Sam into her bathroom.

You undressed as Sam turned on the shower and took off her clothes as well. When the water was hot enough, you both stepped in and shared a kiss under the shower. “I love you,” Sam mumbled against your lips before pulling back and grabbing a pink loofah sitting on a shelf in the shower. “I love you too,” you replied as Sam turned you around, put some soap on the loofah, and gently washed your back.

The way Sam was with you, you couldn’t describe it. She was so gentle and loving, and she made sure you were always safe, sometimes being a bit too overprotective. Some people saw that as controlling, but you knew the real Sam; she would let you do whatever you wanted, as long as you were safe and updated her once every couple of hours. She just worried about you and wanted to protect you at all costs, even if that meant painting the town red every once in a while.

You two finished up your shower after sharing a few stolen kisses and got ready for bed before you laid in bed together. “Come here,” Sam said as she pulled you closer to her body, and you tucked your head into her neck before kissing her soft skin.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Sam whispered as she held you close. “Goodnight, Sam,” you replied with sleep in your voice. After a few minutes, you quickly fell asleep in your girlfriend’s arms, the safest place you could be.

Only, you didn’t know about the monster she hid within herself. You had no idea that your loving girlfriend was the same person violently murdering people at night, but all secrets are unveiled in the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aren’t you guys worried about the Ghostface attacks happening all over the city?” Your best friend Olivia asked. You two were at the library with Tara and Mindy, trying your best to cram in a study session before your calculus exam at the end of the week.

“Uh, no. I honestly would prefer it if someone violently murdered me to death right now because I do not want to take this exam,” Mindy replied nonchalantly as she flipped through her math packet, “You know, I’m glad Isaac Newton died a virgin, this shit is stupid.”

“I agree with you on that. But I am a little worried about the attacks, even though it hasn’t been confirmed as Ghostface ones,” Tara replied hesitantly.

Olivia shrugged at the two responses before turning to you, “What do you think about them?”

Unlike Mindy and Tara, you weren’t at the 2022 attacks, so you never had a connection with Ghostface until you started dating Sam. “I don’t know what to think,” you replied after thinking about it briefly. You weren’t much of a talker, even with your closest friends, and the current conversation was one you didn’t know you would ever be having.

“Whatever, I just think you guys should be extra careful. Especially you, Y/n,” Olivia said as she reached out and touched your wrist. “What? Why me?” You asked with concern.

Olivia gave you a flirtatious smile as she squeezed your wrist, “Because, silly, you are dating the daughter of the original killer. If that doesn’t put a target on your back, I don’t know what will.”

For unknown reasons, Olivia’s comment made your blood boil. She had no right to assume you were in danger just because you were dating Sam.

“Am I interrupting something?” A low voice asked from behind you, and you quickly pulled your hand away from Olivia’s grasp as you turned to face the voice. It was Sam, but there was something in her eyes that you hadn’t seen before, and it scared you. You knew that Sam would never hurt you, but you were still afraid of the murderous look she had.

‘No, we were just talking about the recent attacks,” you said with a smile, trying to ignore Sam’s murderous gaze. “Mhm,” Sam replied as her eyes burned into Olivia’s, who seemed ignorant about Sam’s frustration when she threw an arm around you.

“Y/N, here, seems to not care about the attacks, and I tried telling her that she needs to be worried!” Olivia exclaimed as she pulled you closer to her, and you tensed up at the contact. Physical touch was never your forte, but you only loved it from Sam, so everyone else who touched you made you uncomfortable.

Sam’s eyes darted between you and the girl, and she noticed how your eyes cried out for help, so Sam reached out to you, and you graciously accepted her hand. “I’m sure that Y/N is more than capable of protecting herself, Olivia. I wish I could say the same about you,” Sam replied as she pulled you from Olivia’s hold and to your feet.

Olivia huffed at Sam’s words before returning to her homework, clearly embarrassed that Sam had implied she couldn’t protect herself, which was true.

“I’m going to head home; you two coming?” You asked Mindy and Tara as you packed your things and placed them in your backpack. “No, I’m going to stay a bit longer; I’ll text you when I leave,” Mindy replied, and Tara said the same thing.

“Alright, just be safe. I love you two,” you replied, smiling before leaving the library with Sam.

“‘I love you two,” Sam stated once you two had gotten in the car, and you were confused at her reciting your words from before. “What?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

Your girlfriend started the car and looked at you before driving to your apartment. “You just said, ‘I love you two,’ and it confused me; that’s all,” Sam admitted as she continued driving. You were even more puzzled at her explanation, and you were worried that she was jealous.

“Sam, I don’t love them like I love you, so if that’s what you’re implying, then I don’t appreciate it,” you confessed as you fidgeted with your fingers, and Sam felt guilty for the misunderstanding.

A gentle and loving hand reached over and grabbed ahold of your hand. “No, I was implying anything like that, Y/N. It’s just you said ‘two’ and not ‘three,’” Sam observed with a smile, glad you didn’t tell Olivia you loved her.

“Oh, yeah,” you weakly replied as you laced your fingers with Sam’s. “Is everything alright?” Sam questioned when she heard your change of tone.

You sighed as you squeezed her hand and looked over at her; she had her eyes focused on the road but would occasionally look over at you when she had a chance. “Promise you won’t get mad?” You asked, and Sam immediately tensed up, expecting the worst.

“Depends on what it is,” Sam coldly stated, and you couldn’t decide if you should tell her the truth.

You took a deep breath and kissed the back of your girlfriend’s hand before you admitted, “Olivia kind of told me she has feelings for me.”

Sam scoffed at your statement, and you could feel the anger radiating off of her, but she gently squeezed your hand, telling you she wasn’t mad at you. “How long ago did she tell you?”

And that’s where the problem was; Olivia had told you almost two weeks ago, and you had hoped to avoid the situation altogether, but now you are driving home with your angry girlfriend.

“Two weeks ago,” you mumbled with your head hung low as Sam approached your apartment. Olivia’s confession surprised you, as you had been dating Sam for some time, and she also knew about your relationship. You explained to her that you cherished her friendship and that you cared for her, but only as a friend. And you also told her that your heart only belonged to Sam, which seemed to anger her, but you ignored it as jealousy.

“Unbelievable,” Sam huffed as she removed her hand from yours, and your heart sank at the loss of contact as tension filled the air. Her eyes were once again filled with that murderous rage, and you cowered in your seat, hoping she wasn’t angry with you, but you didn’t believe that for a second.

You two sat silently for several moments before you grabbed your backpack and opened the door. “Goodnight, Sam. I love you,” you weakly said with a weak smile as you exited the car and shut the door. You hated yourself for not telling Sam as soon as you found out, but you were just trying to protect Olivia from Sam’s wrath. But now, as you walked into your apartment building, still feeling the tension from earlier, you wished you could take it all back.

You had gotten in the elevator, and just before the doors shut, a hand slid in and opened the doors back up, and Sam stepped into the small metal box. “I don’t want you to go up alone,” Sam admitted while looking at the ground. You smiled at your girlfriend and gently brushed your hand against hers, and she laced your fingers together.

When the elevator reached the eighth floor, the doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment room together. “Are you coming?” You asked once you unlocked your door and pushed it open. The way Sam’s eyes refused to meet yours was laughable, but you feared that now wasn’t the best time to laugh at her insecurities.

Without saying a word, Sam allowed you to pull her into your place, and you shut and locked the door before taking Sam into your room. You set your backpack on the floor and pulled Sam into a loving hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Sammy. You have every right to know about Olivia having feelings for me; I just hoped I could have avoided the situation entirely,” you admitted against Sam’s chest as the older woman kissed your head.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m just glad I know now. And I’m not mad at you; I’m just upset with you, but I forgive you. You can’t control how people feel toward you, and I can’t control how awesome my girlfriend is,” Sam stated with a smile, even though her beautiful brown eyes still had a hint of anger and rage in them as you pulled back and looked at her.

You quickly kissed her before pulling out her grasp and getting ready for bed. “Are you staying here?” You asked while changing into your pajamas. It was only a little past five in the afternoon, so you hoped you could make dinner and watch a movie with your girlfriend.

“No, I got some stuff I have to do tonight,” Sam replied as her hungry eyes raked over your body as you changed, trying her best to keep her composure. “Like what?” You asked with a curious look.

A slight smirk appeared on Sam’s lips as she spoke, “Well, that takes the surprise out of it, doesn’t it?” You rolled your eyes at her reply but kissed her once again before you followed her into the living room. “Just be safe, Sam. And let me know when you get home,” you stated with a hint of worry. You knew Sam could protect herself, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“I know, Mom,” Sam sarcastically said with a smile. “Sam,” you deadpanned, and the woman shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, “I’m being serious. If I don’t get a text back when you get home, I will have your head.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll have my head soon enough,” Sam joked with a sly smirk as she kissed your lips and opened the front door, “But I promise I will text you. Okay?”

“You better.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied as Sam smiled and left your apartment. And you quickly locked your door before going into the kitchen and making some dinner for yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of your phone vibrating awoke you from your sleep. You fumbled for your phone before you grabbed it and answered the call. “Hello?” You husked as sleep was evident in your voice.

“Y/N! Are you okay? Where are you?” Tara panically asked as she paced around her room. It was almost two in the morning, and she was studying for her math test when the news came on, and her blood went cold.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m at my place. What’s going on?” You asked as you slowly moved in bed and turned on your bedside lamp. “Turn on the news,” Tara breathlessly replied.

Doing what the younger girl told you, you grabbed your TV remote and turned on the TV. “- A man was stabbed to death near 56th Street early tonight. Police are yet to release any information on the suspect, but we do know the suspect wore a Ghostface mask. As for the victim, 28-year-old William Donald was stabbed 22 times and killed. We are aware that Donald has had a history of sexual abuse cases, so we are left wondering if this is the act of a vigilante-”

Ringing was all you heard as the news anchor continued talking. You could see his mouth moving, but you only heard ringing as you exited your bed. You could faintly hear the voice of Tara as you texted Sam. You never received a text message from her, and you were starting to freak out; she always would text you when she got home, no matter how busy she was.

“Y/N? Are you there? Hello?” Tara asked as the ringing finally left your eyes, and you started to come back to reality.

“Where’s Sam?” You asked, and your heartbeat stopped when you heard Tara’s reply, “I thought she was with you.”

Panic coursed through your veins as you sprung up from bed. “No, she left here around 5, and she was supposed to text me when she got back home,” you replied as you put Tara on speakerphone and searched for different clothes.

“She never came home last night, Y/N,” Tara uttered, and your body went rigid. Thoughts of what could have happened to Sam ran through your mind as you changed into better clothing. “Fuck. Have you tried tracking her phone?” You asked while putting on shoes.

“Yeah, Life360 said her phone is off or dead. Y/N, I’m scared,” Tara weakly said; you swore you could hear the faintest sniffle. “Tara, it’s going to be alright, okay? I’m getting ready to head over, and I’ll be there in 10 minutes, okay?” You stated as you grabbed your keys and left your room.

“Okay, just let me know when you are here. Be safe, Y/N. I love you.”

“I love you too; I’ll be right there,” you replied as you hung up the phone and opened the front door to your apartment, and you nearly had a heart attack.

Sam stood before you with her hand raised as if she was getting ready to knock. She wore a blank expression while her eyes were dark, almost evil-looking, as they searched your face something. You quickly pulled Sam into a bone-crushing hug before you pulled back from her and slightly pushed her.

“What the fuck, Sam?! You don’t text me when you get home, and Tara just called me freaking out!” You exclaimed while your eyes examined her body, checking for any injuries she might have.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for her haunting dark eyes that never left yours. She wore all-black clothing, and her hair was damp as sweat glistened near her hairline. “Why are you sweating, Sam?” You questioned as your walls started to shoot up. You couldn’t help it that your first thought was that Sam was cheating on you; she didn’t text you back, either turned off her phone or let it die, and appeared in the black of night, sweating and with dark eyes that told the story of dishonesty.

“I ran here as soon as I could. I heard about the attack, and I needed to make sure you were alright,” Sam said as her hands reached out to your sides, but you pulled back, and Sam felt her heartbreak.

Your eyes darted over her face as you tried to decide what to do; on the one hand, you were glad that Sam was safe, but on the other, you were pissed she ghosted nine hours. “Why didn’t you text me when you got home?” You asked as you hid all emotion from your voice, and Sam knew she fucked up.

It’s not like she could tell you the truth; you would be mad at her either way. She hated lying to you, but she only did that when the truth would either push you away or sound like a lie. “I was picking up a gift for Tara, and I didn’t want her to know where I was, so I turned off my phone, and I lost track of time picking up other things for her,” Sam explained as she took off her bag and moved things around in it. You swore you could see the faintest outline of a white mask before Sam blocked your view with her body, pulled out a small rectangular box, and handed it to you.

You gave her a questionable look before slowly reaching out and accepting the box. It was light, but when you moved it around, you heard something move from side to side. You slowly took the lid off, and you smiled at the necklace.

It was a golden heart-shaped locket with floral designs on it. When you opened it, two small pictures were in it. One was a picture of Tara and Sam, and the other was of the Core Four plus you sitting on a couch.

“I picked this up from the jeweler's store earlier and got the pictures from Walgreens. I put them in the necklace while I sat in my car and made her a scrapbook. I guess I lost track of time, and I only realized how late it was when I heard about the attack on the news,” Sam said as she pulled out a scrapbook and handed it to you as well.

On the front center of the book was a weathered picture of Tara, Mindy, and Chad when they were close to eight, wearing matching ninja turtle pajamas. A small sticky note read, ‘When you guys performed a synchronized dance to convince me to let the twins stay the night.’ Underneath the picture, written in black Sharpie, were the words “The Core Four Adventures” and in smaller handwriting, “plus Y/N L/N.”

You laughed to yourself as you read over your name. “Tara would have gotten mad if I didn’t include you,” Sam whispered as she shuffled from foot to foot. You gave your girlfriend a loving grin as you felt your walls crumble before you opened your apartment door and ushered her in.

You two sat on your bed together as you flipped through the scrapbook, and you could tell this must have taken her hours to make. There were several pictures on each page, each with a small sticky note next to it, explaining how much the picture meant to Sam. Every picture included Tara, except one, and your chest fluttered as you looked at it.

It was a picture of you and Sam just before you started dating. You two were hanging Christmas ornaments on a tree. You were placing one on the tree while Sam held one in her hand, staring at you with the most lovesick eyes you had ever seen. The smile on her lips made your heart melt, and tears brimmed your eyes as you read over the sticky note. ‘This was the first time I realized I had feelings for Y/N. I was in denial about it until you showed me this picture you took of us. You changed my life that day in the best possible way, and I thank you every day when I wake up with Y/N in my arms.’

“Tara likes to say she brought us together, so I felt like I had to include that one,” Sam said as her eyes searched your face and noticed the tears in them, and panic set in. “I'm sorry. I should have asked you first if I could put it in,” she apologized as she took the book from you, “I can take it out if you want me to. Fuck, I am so sorry-” you cut off her rambling with a kiss, silently telling her it was okay.

“Sam, it’s okay. I love it,” you mumbled against her lips as you pulled away and set the book down next to the necklace. The dark look Sam had in her eyes was gone entirely, replaced with only the love she felt for you. You smiled at the change, stood up from the couch, and pulled her into your bedroom.

When you got in bed and cuddled into Sam’s arms, you quickly drifted off to sleep, feeling the love radiating off Sam’s body. How she was so gentle with you told you that Sam was telling the truth, and you let all the worry and doubt slip away as sleep took you.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam was glad you didn’t try anything with her tonight, or you would have seen the bruises and cuts that littered her body from William Donald fighting back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks had passed since then, and three more murders happened. With each killing that occurred, your fear increased with it as each one slowly got closer to your apartment. You didn’t fear for yourself per se, but you feared for Sam and the others.

“Sam, I don’t understand why you aren’t worried! Like, at all!” You exclaimed one night while you were over at her place. She has been nonchalant about the murders, but she still makes sure you have all kinds of protection on you when you leave her sight, anything ranging from mace to a small blade. Sam might not have been openly worried, but she made sure you were safe all the time.

You two have been arguing all night about the attacks, and it seemed the more time passed, the angrier you got, while Sam seemed to calm down more.

“Y/N, I am always worried! I just don’t want to freak you or Tara out with my worrying, so I’ve laid off on it,” Sam defended as she paced back and forth in her room while you sat on her bed. Naturally, she was worried, just not about the Ghostface attacks. As your fear increased for her and her sister, she became more worried about how you would handle the fact that she was the Ghostface that had been murdering people. It’s not like she was just playing eenie meenie miney mo to determine her next victim, Sam was picking the scums of the earth, those who had caused harm to others, and she played the judge, jury, and executor perfectly.

“That doesn’t help, Sam, and you know it!” You retorted as you pushed yourself off the bed and left Sam’s room. “Hey, where are you going?” Sam called out as she was a few paces behind you.

“I’m leaving,” you replied as you put on your shoes and grabbed your bag. “Y/N, you can’t leave. It’s dark out, and you said it yourself: The killings are getting closer to your place, so why don’t you just stay here?” Sam reasoned as she cautiously reached her hands out to you, and when you didn’t pull back, Sam wrapped you up in a hug, “Please, just stay here tonight. I know you’re pissed at me, but we need to talk it out instead of leaving.”

A few beats of silence passed before you mumbled against Sam’s chest, “I hate it when you’re right.” Sam laughed at your response and placed a quick kiss on your head before she pulled back, “Come on, let’s go to bed. I miss my girlfriend, and I really like some cuddles.”

You placed a quick kiss on Sam’s lips before you followed the woman into her room. You two climbed into bed together, and Sam quickly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest. She held you as if you were going to disappear in a matter of seconds, and the comforting hold brought you enough peace to fall asleep in minutes.

While you were fast asleep, a single tear ran down Sam’s cheek as she realized this might be one of the last times she held you in her arms. Afraid that when you found out the truth about her, you would turn her in, or worse, tell her that you wished you had never met her.

Sam could handle you turning her in to the police, but she could not stomach hearing you, the person who changed her life and made her believe that she was more than a cog in a machine; tell her that you regretted meeting her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The loud bass of music rang throughout the house as you pushed through the crowd and tried to find Tara. You had zero intention of coming to this frat party, but Tara told you that she was coming after she promised Sam she wouldn’t go. You were trying to save Tara from an angry sister, and you were trying to protect yourself from a grumpy girlfriend. You sent Sam a quick text, telling her that you were hunting down Tara at a frat party and that you should be home relatively soon.

“Hey! Have you seen Tara?” You shouted over the music at Mindy and Anika, who were passing around a bottle of whiskey. “No, but you might want to check the backyard. I think they are playing beer pong,” Mindy replied before taking a swig of the bottle, and you laughed to yourself when she made a sour face.

Finding Tara in the backyard was a more complicated challenge than you initially believed. The grass was packed with drunken people standing shoulder to shoulder as they stood around a table watching two challengers play an intense game of beer pong. You were making your way to the table when a hand grabbed yours and turned you around.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you! It’s been forever!” Olivia slurred out as she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils.

You had been trying to avoid Olivia ever since you told Sam about the girl having feelings for you as a way to respect your girlfriend while trying to help Olivia lose feelings for you.

“Yes, it has been,” you replied with a fake laugh as you tried to wiggle your way out of Olivia’s hold. “So, how have you and Sam been? Still kicking it with grandma?” Olivia joked, but you could hear the venom in her words. She has never been fond of your relationship with the Carpenter girl, and whenever she gets drunk, she loves to let you know about her distaste for Sam.

You gave Olivia a fake smile, “Of course.” You wanted to mention how she was in a relationship with a freshly eighteen-year-old while she was pushing twenty-three, but you kept your mouth shut.

“I don’t know what you see in her. Honestly. She’s a bitch to everyone else, and she’s controlling,” Olivia said as she licked her lips while her eyes dropped down to your lips. ‘Please don’t,’ you thought as you watched her stare at your lips before looking back at you.

“Sam isn’t a bitch, she just doesn’t trust easily. And she’s not controlling; she lets me do what I want, as long as I’m safe,” you explained as you looked around for Tara, but a hand gripped your neck, causing you to turn your focus back to Olivia.

“Don’t look at anyone else. Please, Y/N. Just look at me,” Olivia whispered just before she slammed her lips against yours.

You didn’t have time to react before a booming voice called out from behind you, “Y/N, what the fuck is going on?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam could only hear the sound of ringing in her ears as she stood over some fool’s body. The man she had just murdered was a local school teacher, and he had gone to trial for acting inappropriately towards his students. Of course, he was able to walk free and return to teaching within a week, claiming he was an innocent man who had been a victim of a coup to get him out of education.

Of course, when Sam held a knife to his throat, his lips sang with all the crimes he had committed within those school walls, and when her knife cut his throat, she smiled as she watched the blood spill out across the floor. This had been the first murder within a couple of weeks; she only stopped for a period of time, so your worry would die just a bit. And it did, and Sam was glad that you were finally able to stop worrying about some murderer who might or might not come after Sam and her found family.

Still in her Ghostface and gown, Sam left the teacher in an abandoned building and went out to her car. She quickly changed, threw her outfit and mask in her trunk, and smiled when she saw your PlayStation. You were bringing it over so you could teach her how to play video games, even though you both knew it was going to end terribly. She closed the trunk, got in her car, and drove home. It might be odd to say, but she missed you at the moment. Sure, she might have just murdered a man, but she was still a softie who needed her nightly cuddles.

As she was driving, her phone dinged with a text message, and Sam hoped it was you letting her know that you were heading over to her apartment. But she frowned as she read over the words.

Mi amor 💕💍: Hey, please don’t get mad at me, but I’m at a frat party hunting down Tara. You know, the one that you told her not to go to. We should be home soon once I find the little shit. Anyway, I love you, Sam. See you soon <3

Of course, she smiled at your sweet words but couldn’t help the anger that stirred in her as she thought about Tara disrespecting her wishes. Tara had been just as worried as you were about the murders, but when they stopped for two weeks, Tara had made the decision that they were done for good and believed that she was free to party as much as she wanted.

“Sam, you told me not to worry about the killings, and I’m not! I’m just going to go to one tiny frat party to celebrate,” Tara reasoned one night after telling Sam she wanted to go to a party.

“Absolutely not,” Sam replied, immediately shooting down Tara’s hopes of getting shit-faced. “Just because the killings have stopped doesn’t mean you have to go out and party to celebrate.”

Because of this, the two sisters got into an argument, one with Tara saying that Sam was ruining her life and another with Sam saying that she was trying to protect her sister from having the life that she once had. Now, both girls were in the wrong, but you said nothing as you listened to them battle it out with words.

And that leads us to the current situation: a pissed-off Sam doing 50 in residential, trying to get the party as soon as she could while you had your lips on another woman’s.

Sam shoved past the crowd as she walked into the backyard, and anger flooded her veins as she saw you and Olivia kissing.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on?!” Sam demanded as she quickly approached you and Olivia. You two separated when you heard Sam’s booming voice, and you looked like you had just seen a ghost when you saw Sam.

“Sam, I can explain-” you started, but Olivia cut you off. “Sam, Y/N and I are in love. She doesn’t want you anymore; she wants me. So it’s best if you leave.”

The smile you saw on Sam’s face made your blood turn cold, and you felt the hair on your arms and neck stand up. It wasn’t the usual, loving smile you would see. No, this was something far more dangerous. There was no love in that smile, only anger, hurt, and a lust for something you couldn’t describe. Only when you saw the same lust flash in Sam’s eyes, you knew what it was: murder.

You’ve never seen Sam so angry before, but yet, you’ve never seen her this calm. It was as if she was born to have that serial killer in her eyes, and you slowly started to fear Sam at that moment.

“Y/N. What is going on?” Sam asked with a monotone voice as her eyes never left Olivia’s, and you could feel the anger radiating off of your girlfriend. You reached a hand out toward her and gently took Sam’s hand in yours. “Sam, I promise you, this isn’t what it looks like. I was here looking for Tara when Olivia grabbed me. She told me that it had been too long since we had last seen each other, and then she kissed me,” you explained, leaving out the details of her slandering Sam in hopes of saving your former best friend. But she ruined that for herself.

“Seriously, Y/N. You’re leaving out the best part!” Olivia exclaimed as she got close to Sam, and Sam made a sour face when she smelt the alcohol on the girl’s breath. “I told our dear, sweet Y/N that you were too old to take care of her and that she needs someone younger. Someone who can make her happy instead of reading her bedtime stories. And I also told her that you were a bitch, which, let’s be honest here, is the truest thing I have ever said!”

“Olivia, that’s enough,” a new voice stated, and you smiled when you saw Tara walk up. She staggered as she walked, but her voice sounded sober and threatening. “I’ll let you slander Y/N, but I draw the line at Sam. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The fuck do you mean I don’t know what I’m talking about?! Sam is, and always will be, a bitch! I mean, come on, Y/N! Why can’t you open up your eyes and realize how much better I am than her? Or are you just as pathetic as her? Huh? You're too afraid to give a real woman a chance, so instead, you stick with a pathetic former drug addict. I guess you were always weak, but I didn’t think you would be this fucking pathetic. But I guess you will always be-” Any word that was about to leave Olivia’s lips died when Sam’s fist connected with her face. The sound of bone crunching echoed over the loud music, and then it went silent.

The music was still playing, but Sam could only hear ringing in her ears as she hit Olivia again, sending her to the ground. Before you could react, Sam was mounting Olivia’s waist and continued her assault on the girl. When Sam brought her fist up again, you quickly caught it and forced Sam to look at you. “Sam, that’s enough. Let’s go,” you stated, leaving no room for negotiation as you pulled Sam off the girl.

Sam grumbled at your statement but got off of Olivia nonetheless. You, Sam, and Tara made your way out to the older sister’s car, only stopping to explain the situation to Mindy and Anika.

“Good luck with her,” Mindy joked as she watched an angry Sam sulk in the corner with Tara beside her while you talked to the two girls. “Tell me about it,” you mumbled with a weak smile before telling the girls goodbye and walking to Sam’s car.

The car ride was silent; not even music played to help ease the tension. You were in the passenger seat while Tara was in the back, silently praying to the old gods and the new that Sam would take pity on her, but she doubted that would happen.

When you three arrived at the Carpenter apartment, Sam made no effort to get out of the vehicle, whereas Tara flew out as soon as the car came to a halt. You looked over at Sam’s right hand, and you saw the knuckles were already turning a deep shade of purple while blood had dried on them.

Slowly, you reached out to Sam and gently took it in yours before bringing it up to your lips and placing a loving kiss on the back of her hand. When your lips made contact with her skin, Sam let out a sigh she didn’t know she was keeping. The way you were so gentle with her made her extremely emotional, and after the night she just had, she wanted to be vulnerable with you.

“I love you, Sam. You know that, right?” You said against your lover’s hand as you peppered kisses on her hand, then her wrist, and all the way up her arm, and you stopped at her shoulder, “I love you more than anything else, but you didn’t have to do that. You don’t have to defend me like that; it will only get you in more trouble with the media than you already are.”

“Y/N, I know you worry about me, but I had to defend you,” Sam replied while you placed another kiss on her hand.

“I know, Sam. But what will happen when people hear about this and-”

“I don’t care about what people say or think about me, Y/N! I don’t care! But I do care about you and everything that involves you. So if that means I have to throw a few punches from time to time, then I don’t care. Keeping you safe, that’s all I care about,” Sam breathlessly declared as her eyes finally met yours, and you saw love and understanding replace that lustful, murderous look.

“I know, and thank you for defending me, but I just worry about you too, Sam. You’re the love of my life, and I would die if anything happened to you,” you said with a soft smile as you looked at Sam with hearty eyes. Sam leaned over and placed a kiss on your lips and cherished the sweet moment with you, not knowing that it all would crumble down around her in mere moments.

“Are you ready to go inside?” Sam mumbled against your lips before pulling back. “Yep! Where’s my PlayStation at?” You asked as you turned in your seat and checked the backseat for it, but nothing came up.

“It’s in the trunk,” Sam thoughtlessly replied, too wrapped up in the moment with you to realize her grave mistake. “Okay, I’ll grab it real quick, and then we can head up,” you said with a soft smile as you got out of the car and went to the trunk. Only when Sam heard you open the trunk did she realize what else was back there, and she quickly got out of the vehicle and got to the trunk, but it was too late.

The crickets stopped chirping as if they knew about the situation as Sam slowly rounded the vehicle and was met with your expressionless face. “Y/N…” Sam trailed off as she looked in the trunk, and her heart sank when she saw that you were holding her blood-stained gown and caressing your fingers across the fabric. “I can explain this.”

You said nothing as you moved the gown to the side and grabbed the bloody knife that was formerly hidden. You traced your fingers along the blade's edge, and you shoved Sam off of you when she tried to take it from you in fear of you cutting your finger. Once you were done looking at the all-too-familiar knife, you set it down on the gown as you reached for the infamous Ghostface mask. You hadn’t to admit it, but the mask smelled like Sam, like your home. You ran a finger around the cheekbones and then around the hollowed-out eyes as Sam continued talking, but you could only hear ringing in your ears.

Only when you threw the mask down and closed the trunk did the ringing leave, and you could finally hear Sam talking again. “Y/N, please. Talk to me, baby,” Samatha pleaded as she watched you quickly walk off. Your head was completely empty as the woman beside you continued talking, continued begging you to speak to her, to hear her out. In another situation, it would have been amusing to see Sam beg this much, but not now. Not when you had just discovered she had been the one murdering those around the city.

The walk back to your apartment was one filled with tense, awkward silence once Sam realized she was going to get nowhere with you. Not right now, at least. She was going to give you some time to process what you had just discovered; she only hoped you wouldn’t take too long.

The older woman walked you up to your apartment, and only when you reached your place did you turn and face Sam. The look in her eyes broke your heart; it was full of regret that soon turned to grief. She was grieving her relationship with you, the future with you that she hoped would be a long and blissful one, and her life. You were Sam’s life, her heart, the reason she got out of bed in the morning, and she knew that she would not be able to live a life without you.

“Goodnight, Samatha,” you blankly said as you turned to open your door and shut it in Sam’s face. Once your door was closed, Sam couldn’t help the tears that escaped as her heart ripped open. She knocked and pleaded with a broken voice to get you to open that door and let her talk to you, but she got no reply. Sam knew it was useless; you had never called her ‘Samatha’ before, not even before you started dating.

Late one night, a couple of weeks after you had first met Sam, you asked her why she went by ‘Sam’ and not ‘Samatha.’ It was an honest question; you were curious as to why she wanted to go by her nickname, and you were glad that she did; it suited her a lot more than ‘Samatha’ did.

You thought she was going to tell you that she just thought it sounded cooler when she was younger, so she kept it. Or that she went by Sam because it was easy to say. You didn’t expect her to open up about her traumatic childhood and how her abusive mother would only call her ‘Samatha.’ She told you that her mother never had anything nice to say, and every sentence would either start or end with Samatha, and it would constantly be belittling her. “It just got to the point where I started to hate everything about myself, even my own fucking name,” Sam had admitted before finishing, “But Tara would always call me ‘Sam’ because it “sounded cooler.” So, I decided to keep the nickname.”

When Sam had told you that, the only thought that plagued your mind was making sure that Sam knew how much you cared about her. So, for the first time, you held Sam in her arms while you two slept on the couch, and Tara snuck a picture of you two cuddled together. And to this day, that picture remains Sam’s Lock Screen as she stares down at her phone with tears in her eyes as she tries to unlock her phone so she can call you.

“Come on,” Sam muttered as she called you, and she let out a pathetic whimper when it went straight to voicemail. “Come on, baby, please. I need you,” Sam muttered again as she tried to call you for a second time, but to no avail. Panic started to settle into Sam’s bones as she tried to call you again and again, and after realizing that you weren’t going to pick up, she left.

Sam doesn’t remember how she got back to her place or how long it took her; the only thing she remembered was leaving your apartment and then collapsing into her bed. For the first time since she stayed with her sister in the hospital almost a year ago, she cried herself to sleep. With every tear that ran down her cheek it signaled her love for you, her regret for lying to you, and her grieving for any future that you two might have had together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t talk to Sam for two weeks, and truth be told, those were the worst weeks of your life. You had gotten so used to falling asleep in Sam’s muscular arms that you were always cold despite having numerous blankets on top of you. When you would get up and go to the bathroom at night, you would always come back to an awakened Sam who was outstretching her arms, patiently waiting for you to come back to bed so she could cuddle with you some more.

Your heart cried out for the home you had once known, but now, you were sleeping in a cold bed with no one to warm it with you. You would twist and turn into the hours of the morning, and you would cry when you realized that Sam wasn’t coming back.

When you weren’t sulking at home about your collapsing relationship, you went to parties with Tara. The girl knew about your quick change in mood but just chalked it up to be your shy personality. At the parties, you would third wheel with Anika and Mindy, but when someone brought up the previous Woodsboro killings and ran their mouth with Sam’s name in it, you became unnaturally aggressive.

One moment, you were standing awkwardly next to the couple, and then the next, you were on top of someone, beating the holy hell out of them. It took both Mindy and Chad to pry you off of them, and that’s how you would spend every party you went to; getting into fistfights with random strangers. You had gotten into so many fights in such a short amount of time that your fists had turned a permanent dark purple color, and they ached every time you moved your fingers.

You and Sam might not be on the best of terms at the current moment, but you would be damned if you let some random stranger slander her name. You would die for that woman; you just needed time to process what you discovered about her. And if that meant taking your anger out on incels, then so be it. But it’s not every day that you find out the love of your life, your soulmate, is a serial killer. No matter if they were killing the innocent or the guilty, it still changed your perspective of things. You were getting ready to pay Sam a visit when the woman had texted you.

Sammy 😩🖤: We need to talk. You can come over here if you want to. Tara is home, so that way you might feel safer to be around me. Or I can come over to your place, whatever works for you.

Your heart broke as you read over Sam’s text again and again. The fact that she was worried that you might feel unsafe around her killed you, and you only wanted to hold her in your arms. But, you have also grown to know what it means when someone says, ‘We need to talk’; it always means a breakup.

The thought of your relationship ending with Sam was not one you had expected nor wanted, even though you ignored all of her attempts to talk to you. You weren’t doing it because you were angry; you were just trying to find the right words to say.

Instead of ignoring her texts like you had done with the previous ones, you replied.

Y/N L/N: Yeah, I’ll head over to your place. I’ll be there in ten minutes

With a deep breath, you put your shoes on, grabbed your phone, and walked to Sam’s apartment. The walk there was peaceful despite the late afternoon traffic. It allowed you to think about what you wanted to say to Sam when you saw her for the first time in two weeks, and you hoped that you could save your relationship with the woman.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of Sam’s door, and you took a deep breath before you knocked. In a matter of moments, the door opened, and your heart sank as you looked at your lover. Her eyes were darker than usual and had bags under them. You knew Sam hardly slept without you, and in a weird way, you were glad that the both of you needed each other. She had stress lines that showed near her eyebrows and a fake smile as she moved to the side and let into her apartment.

You followed Sam to her room, and she shut the door as you sat on her bed, preparing for the inevitable breakup that was surely to occur.

“Thank you for agreeing to talk with me,” Sam stated as she awkwardly stood between you and her dresser. She shifted from one foot to another and fidgeted with her hands before shoving them in her bomber jacket pockets. “There’s some stuff you need to know about before I start talking about why I wanted you here.”

You nodded at her words, silently encouraging the woman to continue, and with a deep, shaky breath, she did. “I didn’t want you to find out that way. I had planned to tell you at some point; I just didn’t know how or when. I knew that once I told you, I could lose you forever, and that scared the shit out of me,” Sam admitted as she blinked back tears but continued, “I love you more than anything, Y/N. I would die for you, but I respect your decision regarding our relationship. So if you’ll let me, I want to break up.”

A broken and weak noise left your lips as you tried to wrap your mind around Sam's words. You knew that it was coming, but hearing it with your ears made it real. “Why?” You asked as you tried to fight back tears, but when you saw how hard this was for Sam, you couldn’t help but let one escape. “Because I want to protect you, Y/N. And if you know about my activities and you choose to stay with me, you will get in just as much trouble as I would,” Sam reasoned.

“I don’t care,” you replied with a shake of your head. “I want you, Sam. No matter what you do. As long as you don’t get caught, I don’t care. I love you more than life itself, and being apart from you for just two weeks was enough hell to last me a lifetime. If you want to continue our relationship, I would appreciate that. But if you really want to stay together, I would like to return to my home then.”

When Sam realized that you were here for the long haul, she allowed herself to be selfish for the first time in her entire life. She slowly approached you and gently took your hands in hers. Sam ran her fingers over your bruised knuckles and placed a kiss on all ten of them before she spoke, “Tara told me you have been getting in fights.”

Feeling embarrassed, you tried to pull your hands away from Sam, but the woman refused to let you go, almost as if she was terrified you had finally come to your senses and were trying to make a run for it.

You stood up from Sam’s bed and wrapped your girlfriend in a tight hug, and you smiled when you heard her let out a whimper-like noise when she felt your arms around her. “I was only defending your name,” you mumbled into Sam’s chest as the woman laughed at your response. “You know I don’t care what people say about me,” Sam retorted with a small laugh.

“I know, but I still like to defend you from time to time, even though you can be an asshole sometimes,” you joked, and Sam only pulled you into a tighter hug. “Thank you, Y/N,” Sam replied and let a few beats pass before speaking again, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you stated as you pulled back from Sam’s embrace and smiled at the slight frown on the woman’s lips, “Are you ready for me to teach you some video games?” You commented as you turned on your PlayStation and grabbed a remote before sitting back down on Sam’s bed and patting a spot next to you.

Sam rolled her eyes at your action but sat down next to you. She listened as you explained to her how The Last of Us works and the lore of the game, but the only thing she really wanted to do was hold you in her arms. But when she made a pass at you, you rejected her advances until she played at least one mission.

You watched and had to bite back several laughs as Sam struggled to get down even the most basic of moves, but you were happy to have your Sammy back.

‘If she’s a serial killer, then what’s the worst that could happen to a girl who’s already hurt?’ You thought as you watched Sam get angry at the clickers and almost throw her remote. No matter what happened, you were glad that you got to spend as much time as you could with Sam, your home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: there’s a small mention of Sam and her hands, and I pulled that inspiration from @samcscreams post about how Sam feels towards her hands. You guys should check out their work, it’s simply alluring!

[your-local-uwu-artist]

reverse falls! notes + alt under cut

-I like the last name switches in reverse falls but I feel like they could run off the tongue better. as of why Pacifica's nickname is Cici instead of Paz: I just think it fits her better

-so as of Gideon's hair color! It's been stated that the amulet he used whitens your hair (and corrupts you soul!) however there's also a baby Gideon shown in blendin's game that still has white hair: in all likely hood this is a mistake, however as I think Gideon looks best with white hair: it is a mistake we will be taking advantage of

-I did consider that he could have albinism but I'm pretty sure that freckles don't occur in people with albinism

-for eye color I used purple because it looks best, but just take it as a stylization of darker-brown eyes

-as of Pacifica's hair color! honestly I wasn't sure on this one: so much so that there is this version as well

i put up a poll even, to see 'hey gravity falls fandom do you think Pacifica's naturally blonde?" and while a relatively close cut: popular opinion seems to hc that it's bleached/dyed blonde. there's a couple of references to the idea that Pacifica's not a natural blonde in canon so I did decide to draw her a brunette for the main version. if you want to fight for blonde Cici though I can still be convinced

-instead of sweaters and skirts, the color of Cici's shirt/s and the color+pattern of her socks and hair tie change, also her earings~

-they're first cousins and canon ages (Pacifica 12, Gideon 10)

-anyway! so these are my babies, will be sharing designs for other characters to.

[sylus-wife]

I can't seem to get lucky enough to see that line again where sylus says "beasts don't belong in a cage" in destiny cafe, but besides that, I think that how sylus views himself is one of the most interesting parts of his character.

throughout our journey with sylus and in the anecdotes, we often see this reoccurring theme of beasts or "taming", like how sylus tamed his horse in no defense zone, and how he offered to take the man's dog out on a walk that had issues with people other than its owner in wander in wonder, and especially how he chose to tame the dragon instead of killing it in adventure above clouds. I personally think that sylus often finds himself sympathizing with these animals who are viewed as "troublesome" or "beastly" by other people, as he often also has to, or have taken in the past, the burden of being the "beast", whether it is others who label him as such, or if he purposefully takes on a terrifying demeanour as a means to an end.

^^ an example of this is when he frees the beasts from the overlords artificial garden, and during this anecdote, we can see some short details of what sylus is thinking during this time regarding the feelings of the caged beasts. when he frees them and recognises their need for vengeance against the people responsible for imprisoning them, it's like sylus is saying: "the ones who have been treated as monsters desire the blood of their wrongdoers. what did you think was going to happen after keeping them locked away for so long?" here, sylus is the beast, recognising his other fellow beasts, and his form of vengeance is granting them freedom from their isolation, and allowing them to take their own vengeance against their wrongdoers instead of doing it for them.

sylus is actually way more sympathetic than people give him credit for, especially towards animals, as he was also caged and treated as such, like how he was imprisoned in tartarus. I also think that when his myth drops we will also see this reoccurring narrative tool being used again, since the form that we vaguely see him take in the flashback to MCs previous life with him IS terrifying and beast-like. this appearance that he has took (which is sort of suggested to be his true form due to the multiple references there is of sylus directly saying that his current body isn't real) could possibly be what led him to alienate himself from everyone else, as people are naturally terrified by beast-like creatures and want to keep them locked away where they are isolated from everyone else.

and with the whole "taming" thing, I just think to myself how much he trusts MC?? like, it is also a reoccurring narrative tool in sylus' story where taming or some sort of bondage is involved, and I otherwise wouldve thought that sylus would hate the idea of being bound with how he desires control, but then here he is throwing himself at MC whenever a situation of him being bound by her or TO her is involved, as if she is the only one who can tug him by his leash and he'd willingly follow. honestly he's like a big guard dog..

overall, I think sylus has a tendency to objectify himself as a result of many things, such as his reputation as a beast, his lack of self-preservation due to his indestructible (as far as we know) body, and how he insists on how MC should use him to her advantage. I also love his relationship with animals and it is sometimes upsetting to see how MC thinks that sylus is incapable of extending kindness to others (though she does not think this anymore since she has developed a deeper relationship with sylus and has a better read on his character) and I hope MC can be beside him on his journey to hopefully put an end to his self objectification or at least find ways to get him in a healthier mindset and have a better attitude about himself 🥹

[frootynovak]

casey + alex vs. smartphones

when bored or taking a break from reviewing her case notes, casey plops down on the couch (most of the time accompanied by a beloved bag of potato chips) scrolling through instagram reels of cat videos that she sometimes sends to alex.

alex calls casey out from the dining table where she’s preparing her cases and yells at her to stop sending her stupid videos because her phone keeps pinging. under grumpy breath, alex opens casey’s messages to watch the videos she sent. she smiles and wonders whether it is time for them to try and adopt a pet.

other things casey does with her smartphone:

1. casey learns new recipes by watching youtube videos so she could impress alex with her cooking skills. she also browses tagged restaurants on instagram reels so she could take alex there if she thinks they’re worth it.

2. she leaves movie reviews on letterboxd, especially if the ending of a movie really upset her

3. when she’s antsy, she plays harvest moon/stardew valley

4. casey has pinterest boards that she updates regularly: “date with alex ❤️”, “small tattoo ideas”, “poems that remind me of alex ❤️”, “stupid memes”

5. she has a reddit account but never posts. she uses it just to read the ridiculously funny and the questionably morbid.

casey’s google search history:

how to handle anxiety symptoms / sous vide vs. pressure cooking / are all orange cats crazy / gone girl actress / is orange from the color or the fruit / do fish pee / is bloodbending illegal / duck penis / date night ideas / is mayonnaise better for grilled cheese / padded sliding mats / jurassic park survival guide / new ways to pleasure your girlfriend / silly cat names / sneaky ways to ask your girlfriend to marry you / will our cat attempt to eat our pet fish if we decide to also keep fish pets / gelato vs. ice cream / what to give wife for first anniversary

things alex does with her smartphone:

(the first thing alex does in the morning after brushing her teeth is checking whether she has important emails that need to be urgently responded to)

1. she has a binaural beats/nature sounds app so she can listen to them to help her with anxiety when casey is not around

2. her mobile games of choice are (a) duolingo - to channel her competitiveness and always get to number 1 on leaderboards; (b) merge cooking; (c) nyt games - to pass time when she can’t sleep

3. casey encouraged alex to start journaling to help relieve some symptoms of anxiety. for convenience, alex uses the notion app as a semi-journal, semi-to-do list. at the end of a tiring day and esp if casey is on a work trip, she scribbles a brief narrative of how her day went and how it made her feel. sometimes, she shares her notes to casey.

4. convenience apps: uber, uber eats, doordash, pocket yoga, skyscanner, wise, paypal, opentable, airbnb, booking.com

5. alex has subscription to both apple music and spotify. she insists that sound quality is better in apple music but spotify’s user interface is friendlier. she has different playlists for each mood, and made playlists for casey. she hasn’t shared all those playlists to her though.

alex’s google search history:

are there any advantages to castling queenside? / how do you politely ask someone for their instagram account but as a friend? / what does it mean when young people say that “this is sending me”? / how to tell your girlfriend you love her without having to say it explicitly? / are intrinsic motivations learned? / what restaurant serves the best grilled cheese in manhattan? / list of fragrances with subtle sillage appropriate to wear at work / what signs to look out for which indicates that your girlfriend wants to marry you? / list of the most romantic places for honeymoon / best galleries to visit while in Barcelona / how hard is it to raise a child?

[gay-dorito-dust]

please can i request headcandons of the spiderverse people finding out their best friend reader is the protege of Miguel O’Hara

A/n: Miles’ head cannon is gonna be a bit angsty as it’ll probably take place during the events of the movie. So sorry if you wanted something fluffy.

Also I’m sorry for the severe lack of characters, I kinda ran out of ideas on how others would react. 🦦

Miles finding out that you, his best friend whom he probably said a-lot of embarrassing shit to out of the sheer comfortability level he had with you, were the protege of Miguel O’hara was definitely a wild ride.

Especially so considering all the shit he’s endured during his visitation of the Spider Society.

Naturally he’s going to feel hurt that you didn’t disclose this information to him because he thought you were genuinely good friends. But would be willing to hear you out on what you have to say because he genuinely wants to know why.

So when you tell him that the reason you were so quiet about being Miguel’s protege was the same reason why you didn’t disclose to Miguel that he was your best friend. You told Miles that your mentor would think you a vulnerability much like he did in regards of the relationship between Gwen and himself.

It’s not that you were ashamed of Miles, no, never. He’s your best friend and you loved him greatly and told him that pretty much every day whilst going out of your way to answer all his questions about the spider society when Gwen failed to do also, including stuff regarding his place in all of it.

Your friendship with Miles meant a lot more to you then being apart of some stupid society that was extremely selective on who they recruit.

But you understood and respected Miles’ need for space away from you to think on things before you then promptly left to head back to the spider society before Miguel grew suspicious of your whereabouts and who you were with.

Just give him some time. He’s been through enough and never got the chance to properly sit through his emotions.

Hobie would probably look you dead in the eye as he’s holding you by the shoulders and in all seriousness says, ‘blink twice if your being held hostage by that tyrannical dictator prick.’

Hobie would’ve notice the similarities in you and Miguel fight almost instantaneously since he’s a very observant dude and if he was anyone else, he would’ve just shrugged it off as you imitating Miguel for shits and giggles.

But Hobie would definitely have an inkling that something was going off between you and Miguel long before you told him about being his protege. He thanked fuck it wasn’t anything romantic in the slightest.

Though he would defiantly have a few questions on why it was that you’d let yourself be taken under his wing. Were you dismantling the system from the inside out but we’re playing the long game like he was? Or were you made into being his protege without having a say in anything?

If it was the first one then he’d clap you on the back with pride but if it was the second one then he’d more then happily suggest in teaching him a lesson in trying to take advantage of his mate.

But if it was neither option and that you just really wanted to learn from him and grow to become a better, stronger, faster Spider-Person then Hobie would back off. Hobie trusts you enough to make your own decisions and to take care of yourself.

But that don’t mean he ain’t in your corner when the time comes because he is and always will be looking out for you no matter what and he’ll gladly intervene when he thinks Miguel is being too hard on you, or he just straights up takes you back to his dimension when he thinks you need a break from it all and spend time with him and causing chaos together.

Gwen would’ve probably found out that you were Miguel’s protege when it seemed that whenever the big boss man had to go on a mission, he’d always have you pair up with him despite being quite capable at taking on anomalies on his own.

She’s observant in her own right but not to the same extent that Hobie is but that’s neither here nor there.

She thinks it’s pretty cool that her best friend was the protege of the big boss man himself, but knew that there was a lot of pressure and stress ridding on your shoulders when it comes go being the protege of man who created the Spider Society.

But I’d like to think that you’d both show off what Miguel/Jessica taught you to one another as you goof off in some other dimension together during a mission.

So now and then she makes sure that you’re okay after hard missions, whether they be solo or duo with your mentor, and making sure your eating, keeping yourself hydrated, but most importantly Gwen’s making sure you’re taking breaks in between tasks so you don’t become fatigued and burnt out later down the line.

Whilst originally thinking that you being Miguel’s protege was cool and all but she does worry about you, especially when he gets himself into a violent outburst and starts throwing shit with out rhyme or reason.

Gwen can’t help that she’s overprotective of you and wants to keep you safe even if your in a place that’s meant to be a safe space for all spider people. She’s already lost Peter and she wasn’t about to loose you too because your mentor didn’t think you were up to snuff. She didn’t want to be at the Spider Society if you weren’t and didn’t care if that made her more of a liability in her peer’s eyes.

[thecoolblackwaves]

Family Of Nerds: Feanorian Modern AU

(I’m sorry this is somewhat Americanized I just don’t have enough knowledge about anywhere else to make those allusions) (Also please reblog with your own headcanons or other thoughts!)

Feanor 

Philologist; studies language history

Often assists at various museums, colleges, archeological sites, etc

Has published several books and given many lectures 

Creates his own languages like Tengwar for fun, also is a hobby blacksmith

Teaches his children many archaic languages no one else speaks and takes his family on "educational" vacations 

Also attends every convention known to man, even ones that have seemingly nothing to do with his own interests, dressed to the nines and spends his time there signing books and debating other people 

Loves his wife just as madly as the day he met her and is ecstatic he married his high school sweetheart

Idolizes his father. Would have done great following his political career if he hadn't "ruined" his public image by becoming a teen parent, ultimately feels he's made the right decisions for his life though and is happy with his work

Rivalry with Fingolfin over who can host the best dinner party (and you best believe he wears smart-ass punny aprons while cooking a six course meal for his guests)

Nerdanel 

Professional sculptor and multimedia artist

Teaches classes at an arts college 

Is known to eat the fruit out of the bowls her students are sketching when no one is looking

Cannot cook to save her life 

Enthusiastically attends every possible event in her family’s calendar no matter the weather or lack of skill at a toddler dance recital 

Dresses in a fabulously bohemian eccentric artist way; stole the show when she attended the Grammys with Makalaure and has been featured in several fashion magazines 

Carries all sorts of art supplies and seemingly random tools in her purse at all times, including a chisel, googly eyes, edible glitter, a bajillion hair ties, DW40, and peanut M&Ms

Has a calm, wise disposition that belies her truly chaotic nature

Often looked to for advice from her students and children and will only pull your leg when she thinks you’re being stupid 

Does give genuinely good advice though, mostly because she is uncanny in her ability to read people and observe subtle hints 

Maitimo

Studied communications, currently working as his father’s apprentice but hopes to find a position as a public relations specialist 

Uses his intimidating stature and loud, deep voice to his advantage as needed

Was born while his parents were teenagers and still living with their families, he remembers watching cartoons with Grandpa Finwe and being babysat by his uncles 

Also attended his mother’s graduation from art school as a small child and clapped until his little hands hurt 

Is painfully aware of how all his younger brothers look up to him - literally - and sometimes struggles with the pressures of setting a good example, though he does much better than he realizes 

Drinks his coffee from a mug that reads “don’t make this ginger snap” (Nerdanel has a matching one)

The gayest gay to ever gay, informs everyone of this via cheesy tee shirts gifted from his brothers and cousins 

Drives a minivan, claims he chose it because it was the only car that would fit his legs and not because he can haul his brothers around in it 

Frequently complains about missing the technology of his childhood but resents being called a millennial 

Makalaure 

Grammy award winning artist and composer

Created the score for a recent movie that bloomed his popularity and brought him to the limelight 

Has a Youtube channel with several music videos he definitely didn’t blackmail his family into filming with him 

Also performed on Broadway once and will not let you forget it 

Used to skip school to busk in the train station and once caught his math teacher also skipping school 

Extremely popular with interviewers, camera crew, and other industry specialists for his kindness and crazy stories about his family 

Donates large amounts of his royalties to children’s hospitals and other charities 

Used to hog the bathroom in the mornings to put on makeup and style his hair 

Practices Beyonce dance routines in the mirror, has convinced Curufin to do them with him before 

Spent a semester studying in Sydney, Australia and fainted after encountering a large spider in his dorm room 

Tyelkormo

Forest ranger at a National Park 

Works at outdoor summer camps every year, all the children love him and his giant fluffy dog

Also volunteers at animal shelters and the wildlife rehabilitation center at the National Park 

Creatine for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; drinks so much milk Nerdanel used to tell him it was why his hair was white 

Wakes up at 5 in the morning to exercise (disgusting)

Got a long bow for Christmas one year (the note said Santa but he knows it was his mom) and practices in the backyard by shooting at Amrod’s pumpkins 

Metalhead, particularly likes viking metal and Nordic black metal 

Made Huan his own battle vest complete with dog-themed patches such as “Bad to the Bone” and “No Leashes No Masters” 

Tells the most terrible jokes you’ve ever heard then laughs like a seagull vomiting up a stolen bag of Doritos 

Extremely loyal to his family, sometimes to a fault 

Carnistar

Professional business accountant 

Also does taxes as a side hustle because “it’s so easy” 

Is obsessed with Oreos but will not admit it because of his brother's teasing about "Moryo's Oreos" 

Obligatory family goth and not ashamed of it 

Started mending his hand-me-down clothes as a necessity and got into sewing, now makes fantastic garments for his family and friends to wear 

Halloween is the only valid holiday, he spends the entire year making his costume (it’s usually a vampire or some fandom character)

Stays up until 3am gaming on a PC he and Feanor built together one summer, favorite game is currently Balder’s Gate 

Had to take speech therapy as a child and later some anger management classes.... because he got too good at expressing himself

Curufin

Silversmith and jewelry maker 

Specializes in accessories for ballet dancers and other performers 

Ballet dancer since he was young, never succeeded with a professional career but still practices daily and chose his specialty to remain part of the scene 

Holds a serious grudge against certain critics that failed his entry to ballet academy (will not sell his products to them or their schools)

Always looking for new business opportunities, not always in the most honest of ways 

Struggles with self esteem issues 

Has several cats and claims they betray him when they snuggle with Huan but secretly finds it adorable 

Frequently collaborates with Caranthir to make elaborate costumes just for the fun of it 

Made a tiara for his favorite cat, Princess Paws

Would sleep until four in the afternoon if you let him (or if Princess Paws didn’t wake him up screaming for food)

Amrod

Gardening Club President at his school 

Started a trade and barter farmers market after school to reduce waste and share the bounty of his and fellow club member’s gardens 

Frequently tries to convince his parents to turn their property into a “self sufficient homestead”, leaves pamphlets and pictures of adorable baby animals lying around the house 

Enlisted the help of his twin and Maitimo to build a chicken coop, forgot to ask Feanor’s permission first 

Demands payment in the form of fresh caught fish or deer jerky for the use of his gourds in Tyelko’s target practice 

Has definitely switched places with Amros to escape trouble or science tests 

Often neglects his homework for pursuits he feels are more important, will only do it without complaint when Carnistar tells him to 

Had eyes for the cool-looking red glow on the stove as a child and was banned from the kitchen for most of his adolescence 

Is generally a persistent and stubborn person (wonder where he got it from)

Amros 

Amateur photographer with an instagram following nearing one million 

Account consists of 95% nature photography and 5% “The Adventures of Huan and Princess Paws” as he follows them around the back yard 

Takes all of Makalaure’s headshots and creates his album covers, also photographs Curufin’s jewelry to upload to his retail website 

“Borrows” Carnistar’s prized PC to upload and edit his photos 

Conspired with Amrod to convince their elementary school classmates they were secretly Fred and George Weasley disguised as Muggles, ultimately failed because someone thought their accents “just sounded like they were copying Peppa Pig”

Still pulls out his British accent on occasion when someone needs cheering up 

Inherited Nerdanel’s keen observation skills, mostly uses them to blackmail his brothers into doing his chores 

But also gives the most amazing presents because he knows exactly what everyone truly wants 

[sonamytrash]

Angel

Levi x Fem!reader

Warnings: Nudity, Reader is described as female. Flirtatious, and suggestive dialogue between characters. OOC in parts for Levi.

Plot: Reader is a charismatic, flirty, fun and popular. She convinces Levi to join her when she's caught trying to sneak off from the camp.

Author's Note: Nothing serious just a fun thought I had. I don't write often so apologies if it isn't upto people's standards. I'll write a part two if people enjoy it though.

---------

Laughter and the hum of conversation radiates from the campfire. After a busy day of travelling, the scouts settle down for the evening, enjoying each other's company and a well-deserved drink. Levi is seated further away from the roudier members, contemplated going to bed soon, but wasn't entirely sure leaving the younger scouts unattended was wise. While this mission was within the safety of the walls, he was no stranger to the dangers humanity posed to one another.

He notices movement behind his tent and walks over to investigate. Finding you creeping towards a pathway that would lead you away from camp.

"And where do you think you're going, y/n?" You stop in your tracks and turn to face the captain. "Captain." You reply with a hint of mischief, knowing you'd been caught sneaking off. You look back towards the path, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of any discipline from the captain.

"Don't look away when I'm talking. Who do you think you are, walking off without permission, brat." He says with a hint of amusement.

You sigh. "I apologise, captain. I was hoping to bathe in the hot springs over by the cliff." You tell him. "I was trying to keep it a secret so that I could go alone." You admit reluctantly.

"A bath can wait. It will be there when your shift ends. And going alone isn't one of your better ideas. We might still be within the safety of the walls, but don't let that fool you into thinking you're safe enough to be wandering off." He speaks in a way that makes it seem that you shouldn't be so eager to get away from him, almost as if he wants to keep an eye on you for his own amusement.

You pout playfully. "My shift ended twenty minutes ago, sir. If you want to accompany me, that way you can keep watch?" You suggest a little bit of a bold move, but Levi definitely had a soft spot for you. Whether that was romantic or not, you couldn't quite figure it out. But you definitely got away with a little more than he'd allow from others. You really don't want to miss out on the opportunity to soak in the natural hot springs, so it seemed like the question was worth the risk.

He thinks about it for a bit, seeming slightly interested in the idea. He leans forward ever so slightly before speaking in an accusing way, "You trying to get me alone, brat?"

You smile flirtatiously "No sir, just hoping humanities strongest might keep watch while I take advantage of a natural hot springs. It's too good to pass up on. But if you want to take advantage too then you're welcome to join me in the water" you suggest "Of the opportunity that is" You add, knowing your last sentence could easily be open to interpretation.

He smirks, seeming amused by your flirtatious teasing. Before speaking, he leans back slightly, getting into a more relaxed position.

"And what would you do if I decided to join you?" He asks.

You shrug before you start walking again in the direction of the springs. Knowing that you had piqued his interest enough now to get your own way. "I guess you'll just have to find out."

Banter between you and Levi wasn't unusual. Your playful personality was refreshing. Feeling his curiosity getting the best of him, he slowly starts to trail behind you. His eyes move from your face to your hips, watching your body as you walk. His smirk shifts to a more playful grin that he keeps to himself.

You arrive at the springs at the base of a cliff, surrounded by trees and gorgeous flowers. The steam from the water is telling of how warm it'll be. It's a clear night with hundreds of stars and a full moon. You're not too far from the rest of the camp, enough for it to be private, but people talking around the campfire can still be heard in the distance.

He, too, notices how secluded the springs are, enjoying the peaceful surroundings. As you stand at the springs, he walks up and stops a few feet behind you, allowing you the space and privacy to undress.

You remove your top and pants before removing the rest of your clothes and step into the water. Your figure is something to be desired amongst the regiment, and many men and even women are attracted to you. Levi is well aware of your popularity. While he tries to ignore idle chit chat amongst soldiers, there have been occasions that he's had to make a point to scouts not to speak of you in such an inappropriate manner. It angers him to say the least, these men making comments about you, he'd be lying too if he said it didn't ignite jealously within him. You relax into the water, a blissful sigh escaping your lips. Pulling Levi from his thoughts as he looks over at you in the water.

Levi watches with a mixture of awe and lust, looking you up and down. When he sees you put your head back and close your eyes, his eyes wondered down to your breasts, the water barely covering your nipples. He wonders to himself if he's in the presence of a goddess. Seeing you like this is something he's only dreamed of.

You open one eye to look over at him "The water is beautiful, this was a good find. You should get in" you say playfully, having caught him staring at you but you decided not to make a point of it. "And you can thank me later for my bright ideas and minor insubordination."

He chuckles, allowing your cheekier side to come out while you were both alone without any reprimand. "I'm sure I will, brat." 

He decides against his better judgement that it would indeed be a shame to pass up on the opportunity to enjoy what the springs have to offer, but even more a waste to miss the opportunity to have this intimate moment with you.

He removes clothes, exposing his defined and muscular body and makes his way into the water. The hot water feels amazing, and he relaxes a bit. You try to avert your gaze from his body, that looks like only a god could have sculpted him. A light blush bringing colour to your cheeks, which you're sure you can blame on the heat of the springs and not the heat in the pit of your stomach. You'd always had a crush on Levi. Working within the medical units of the scouts and not necessarily the front lines of combat meant while you still came under his command and instruction out on missions like this, there wasn't quite as much in the way of restrictions that could stop you pursuing a relationship if you so wished. But you certainly didn't take the captain as the type to have time for such things. But at the end of the day he was a man, with needs, and you weren't shy of the art of seduction when it suited you. And you think he knew that too.

As the two of you soak in the warm water, you enjoy the beauty of your surroundings "This is heavenly, nature is incredible." You say, trying to focus on something other than your handsome company. You admire the details of the moss and flowers that are situated along the waters edge as you trail your fingers gently along the mosses and rockery.

Levi nods, "Yes, but nature can be cruel and unforgiving too. One moment it can be beautiful, the next it can be deadly." He looks at you and pauses for a moment, staring up at the sky. "This world is full of contradictions."

You smile at the captain "Try to relax, it's not often we get an opportunity like this." Trying to encourage him not to think into your statement too much. Nature truly was cruel, putting a man like Levi on the earth, forever so close yet so far from your reach.

He takes a deep breath, attempting to relax as you say. He tries to ignore the distraction of your body within arms reach of him as he tries to focus on the surroundings. After a couple moments of silence, he speaks again.

"You're right... we don't get a lot of quiet moments like this... It is nice..."

You nod in agreement, closing your eyes as you continue to relax, hearing your comrades talking at the campfire in the distance. You laugh to yourself. "People might wonder where you've gone captain, hopefully nobody interrupts us" You tease playfully.

He turns his face to you with a smirk, his deep masculine voice now carrying a slight hint of flirtation in it.

"Oh yeah, what would you do if those same people came over and found us out here, brat?."

You shrug and smirk "It'd be a shame, my secret hot spring would be discovered and those kids would probably want to join us."

He starts to chuckle as your response. A smirk on his face as he looks at you from the corner of his eye, taking in every inch of your body that he can see above the water.

"I'm sure you could handle having an audience." He comments.

"An audience?" You scoff "Can you imagine what Eren and Jean would be like in here with us?" You groan painfully at the thought.

Levi chuckles "Arguing over who gets to sit next to you. A testosterone fuled competition as always." He sighs, his constant efforts to separate the two young men seems to be a daily chore for the captain.

You smirk playfully at him "I suppose it is flattering, but I much prefer the company of a man like yourself over boys any day." You reply confidently. "And what about you? What do you think they'd think if they found us together like this? Naked in the hot springs together." You ask flirtatiously "They'd be so jealous" You tease "Would you enjoy that, captain?" You wink playfully.

He lets out a small chuckle as he hears your question. He gives you a playful grin without hiding the fact that he enjoys the idea of the scouts being flustered at the sight of you, many of them too shy to even talk to you while he gets to be with you in such an intimate environment like this.

"Hm, I suppose I would enjoy that. But keep it between us." He replies, the smirk still present on his face.

You laugh in response "I'm sure some of the female cadets would enjoy seeing you like this too."

He chuckles at your comment, amused by the idea.

"Well we wouldn't want to just make the male cadets jealous would we?" He says in a flirtatious tone, his eyes roaming briefly across your body as he speaks.

"Absolutely not" you laugh playfully "Though I don't need any of the girls to dislike me more than they already do." You say with a hint of amusement noticing the way his eyes scan over your body in the water. Pressing your thighs together to provide some relief for the developing heat having him look at you with such hunger.

"Yeah, can't imagine why you're disliked..." He says sarcastically before turning his attention back to your face. His eyes meeting yours across the water.

You sigh "They're young. I'd have disliked working with me too at that age." You laugh smirking back at Levi.

He smirks at you, He leans back slightly, letting his arms hang by his side as he looks at you.

"You must have been quite the little troublemaker back when you were that age, seeing how you still manage to get under peoples skin all this time later. Or you've honed your charm." He says almost exasperated with your teasing nature.

"Oh believe me, I was. I don't know how I had the energy." You chuckle.

He laughs with you before answering, "Im sure you still have plenty of it, the way you can tease men like me like you do, without getting shy at all." He continues to gaze at you, struggling to fight his arousal with every moment that passes.

You smirk knowingly back at him, enjoying his honesty surrounding your playful treatment towards him these past few years. "Well that's true, I'd say I definitely have honed my skill." you wink playfully at him.

He chuckles a bit at your wink, leaning back slightly and stretching out his arms. He begins to speak again, seeming more interested in exploring your charms.

"Confident and flirtatious. I bet the majority of men fall at your feet, don't they?" He asks curiously. He can't imagine it's only him that struggles with your alluring nature.

"Oh Levi, whatever makes you think that" you say with smirk. He looks you straight in the eyes, clearly wanting to hear your answer.

"Are you denying that men will do just about anything for an angel like yourself?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

He speaks in a playful tone, clearly amused by you trying to pretend to be modest when he fully well knows how popular you are.

You giggle "Angel you say?" You press your finger to your lip "I don't know if that's the word many would use for me." You look over his muscular build and gorgeous face once again. "But you're not wrong, the efforts men will goto always keeps me entertained... trying to get a taste." You say seductively.

He chuckles again at your response, loving the idea of you having every man at your disposal.

"Oh you're definitely an angel, with a face as beautiful as yours, and a body most men could never get enough of." He says bluntly. He leans forward slightly, as he looks at you, a seductive look in his eyes. "It's a full time job trying to keep brats away from your barracks. Having to Discipline them when I overhear their filthy mouths and desperate desires they have for you."

You tilt your head to the side playfully.

"You're right, Levi, and once you've had a taste of the heavenly nectar, it's impossible to go back" You say seductively as you lean towards him

You're inches apart from each other "But what about you Levi, would you like a taste of heaven?" You ask him, your tone quiet and dripping with lust as you bring your hand gently to his cheek.

He sighs as he hears you ask him the question. Without a word he pulls you towards him, your bodies pressed together. He looks down at you for a moment as if to gauge your reaction before speaking.

"I'd love a taste, angel...."

[yandere-wishes]

Okay so not an ask more of a Headcanon based on observation and the character he is based on, but I see Honest Fellow as someone who would both idolize/emulate and resent the rich. By his design his clothes, while they pay homage to Honest John with the patchwork pantleg and the misding pinky tip on his one glove seem very well-kempt, on top of that his hat and cane are practically emaculate that cane alone couldn't have been cheap though I wouldn't put it passed the sly fox man to have either swindled someone out of it or stole it from them outright. Point is I'm getting wants to be a rich man but hates the rich people vibes.

All of that is set-up for my headcanon that if he ever had a S/O you can bet he would get them jewelry and expensive clothes. Basically just adorn them in finery he had acquired through whatever means (cough, likely stolen or purchased with dirty money, cough) and proudly have them stand by his side. The thought to use them as a pretty little lure to catch even bigger fish might cross his mind, but I doubt he'd ever use them like that. Personally, I feel like he'd be to possessive to do that even if his darling wanted to help like that, after all what if he let's them go off alone and someone tries to take advantage of his poor darling? He doesn't think they're weak or foolish per say but who could protect them better than him? I think he'd have a difficult time even leaving them alone with Gidelle (only 90 percent sure I got that right), of course he trusts Gidelle, well as much as he can truly trust anyone anyway, but he's the brains of the outfit and unless he's personally by his darlings side he won't ever be truly assured something won't go wrong.

Let's say that darling isn't quite so understanding or compliant, his possessive side would certainly get worse. He can't leave them alone for one second qhat if they try and sneak off. Perhaps to save his pride he'd be a bit delusional, they're just a sweet little naive skittish thing that doesn't know any better, possibly they've never known a love as deep and unshakable as his, it's only natural there would be a learning curve for them and who better than he to teach them? I highly doubt he'd ever use physical punishments on his darling, probably doesnt like punishing them as he thinks they are just still learning, but that doesn't mean he won't find other ways to punish them if necessary. I do think if they actively tried to run he wouldn't waste a minute getting something along the lines of a necklace with a chain, something fashionable but functional as a reminder while they're learning, if that reminder isn't enough though he might go for a bejeweled pet collar and leash. If all else fails isolation in a secure location with him as their only source of human, or well beastman, contact would certainly allow them to see how much they needed each other. Whatever he has to do to make them understand it'll all be worth it later once they're settled and he can spoil them like they deserve.

TLDR: Honest Fellow would love to lavish his S/O in (possibly ill-gotten) finery and would actively and proudly show them off on his arm. Everyone can look and admire, but only he is allowed to touch.

This has got to be the most effort anyone has ever put into something they sent in my ask box!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

Okay so right off the bat let me say that YES!! This is canon I don't care what anyone says.

I can see him as "wanting what they have" but "not wanting to be them". Essentially he wants the ability to give his darling the best of everything. Yet still ultimately preserving his own "personality". Like you said Fellow hates the rich. They're insufferable, self-absorbed and loathsome, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't crave the glitz and glammer.

Now I can kinda see Fellow only really interacting with his darling at first to use her as bait. Winning her over with expensive gifts and pretty cloths (all from dirty money ofc) and sure darling does start to fall for his tricks. But here's the thing, the moment his darling begins to show the tinest interest in him Fellow FALLS HARDER!! All of a sudden he doesn't want ANYONE near his darling! Just him only him. Sooner or later his darling will start to feel suffocated, she'll be desperate to get away from him. Forsaking the pretty presents and charming "boyfriend" for just a moment of freedom. But Fellow's a sly fox, always one step ahead. He knows how to ensnare his darling before she's even run away.

Overall Fellow will lavish you, treat you like a queen, getting you anything you desire (through underhanded means) but you'll never be allowed to leave him. Forever trapped by his side on the island of pleasure…

Quick question is Fellow meant to be the same age as the third years or is he older??

[litnerdwrites]

About the dancing chapter...

I agree 100% with this comment by the amazing @deathbealady (no seriously, I didn't even realise how similar this situation was to Mor's) and I wanted to use it as a jumping off point to talk about Eris Vansera. To be clear though, I like fanon Eris and am currently undecided about canon Eris, for reasons I'll explain later.

For now, we can start with the IC asking Nesta to try and seduce Eris. I refuse to believe they weren't given this idea by Elain, either because she volunteered Nesta outright, or because she put the idea of using Nesta's artistic passions that, at this point, they know were effectively weaponised by her mother, to seduce an older male with the idea of marriage.

Either way, the fact that the IC knew what Nesta's mother had done, and decided to take advantage of it without ever asking what she thought of it, or what she might like, despite it being the same thing done to Mor when she was Nesta's age, if not younger. It's made especially worse given that Nesta likely feels unable say 'no' to the IC, because if she does, she'd likely be threatened with Elain being made to do it.

If that isn't bad enough, and I wouldn't be sure if it could get worse if I wasn't about to tell you why, then we can take a look at the age gap between Eris and Nesta. I've heard people argue that it's fine, since they're both consenting adults, but I think that the term 'adults' needs to be redefined. Humans are considered adults at the age of 18 or so, but only have a fully developed frontal love at 25. Meanwhile, fae are considered adults by the age of about 50 to 80 (with the latter being the age that a High Lord can be named such, but some people say it's 50). This has some pretty serious implications.

Starting with the fact that if females in Illyria and the CON are married off/wings clipped when they have their first period, which seems to be from around the same time human women have theirs, to 18 if they try to prevent it through medication, then they aren't adults themselves. They aren't even half way there in the (I don't want to say mild, best case, better or anything like that case because it's all messed up) cases where the woman is 18 or so. It also implies that a fae female's frontal lobe isn't developed until she's over fifty, since we don't have evidence to suggest the contrary.

Just because Nesta was almost 25 when she became fae doesn't make it alright either. Given that her aging must have slowed astronomically when she was turned, it's fair to assume it would have a huge impact on maturity and brain development. Which means the Archeron sister's in general might have serious gaps in the way their brains develop, especially Feyre, since she was resurrected and her body changed. It might even be slightly different for Nesta and Elain since they were killed, pulled apart and put back together in the cauldron.

Since it was the cauldron, there's a chance that their brains were also changed to be like fae, but either way, both possibilities and scenarios come back to the same answer: The Archeron Sisters are still mentally children, and will likely remain so for several decades longer, perhaps even longer than regular fae due to the unprecedented and irregular nature of their existence.

This brings me back to the subject of Nesta and Eris. He is a grown adult many centuries older than Nesta, with frontal lobe development and centuries of experience. Nesta is barely even half way to being an adult, while he is over 500. Moreover, the IC believe that Eris is a monster.

Now, I'm well aware that there's likely more to the issues between Eris and Mor than what we've seen. Between Eris's own words regarding 'circumstances' that he wouldn't explain, to the narrative going out of his way to show us good parts of him. Such as the way he moved to protect his mother at the HL meeting, and how he let his own father torture him but still protected the IC's secrets and took the unnecessary verbal abuse from Cassian. There's even the fact that Eris simply lets others believe him to be the villain, and let's Mor control the narrative for her own comfort, as opposed to spilling whatever happened, even if it would, somehow, absolve him.

Now, to be perfectly clear, there is little Eris could say that would absolve him, truly, of what happened. I acknowledge that he's a victim of his father, however that doesn't mean he can't also be Morrigan's abuser. And yes, even if he didn't touch her, neglect is abuse. Leaving her there for dead, regardless of the reasons, is a messed up thing to do. The categories of victim and abuser are not mutually exclusive.

The narrative wants us, as readers, to question Eri's actions and begin to wonder what happened between him and Lucien and Mor. It wants us to open up to the idea that Eris may not be as bad as he's made out to be, and that there's something more sinister happening, since it puts some level of suspicion on Lucien, Mor and Beron. However, just because that's the story we're being fed as readers, doesn't mean that the characters have the same perspective, or are living the same story, necessarily.

If you think about it, they have no reason to believe that Eris isn't a psycho who abuses woman and would slaughter his brothers to get to the crown. His comment about circumstances does read like an abuser trying to justify his actions with little effort, while giving no real reason, not that one would make up for what the IC believes he did. It's not a good enough reason to absolve him or make him seem like a good person.

He still hunted Feyre down, even though he had no reason to once she and Lucien made it to the Winter Court, and it, logically, would've caused more trouble for Beron if they were caught. Especially since a whole fire fight took place, and it would be easy for Kallias to connect that with autumn citizens, since he didn't know about Feyre's magic. If anything, hunting them at that point would've caused more problems and they'd be better off just telling Beron that Feyre and Lucien were there. A high lady, if Beron acknowledges the title or not, trespassing in foreign lands with a banished son would be enough to raise a fuss about.

He, also, has people who've known him for centuries, from Mor to Lucien (though the latter probably has more accurate info given his connections in various courts, and the fact it's unlikely Mor shared many words with him over 5 centuries) and the fact he's essentially blackmailing the Nc. This is more so an issue of his having certain pieces of information being a cause for the IC to fear what he may do with it, or what might be found out by their enemies if they use torture or a daemati.

I'm not saying, by any means, that I hate him. I think he's actually written better than Rhysand at this point, since unlike Rhysie playing hero, Eris knows he's a terrible person and low key owns it. Whether or not that's subject to change is dependant of SJM's writing in the future. There's a chance she may actually turn him into Rhys 2.0 by pretended he was a good guy all along.

However, regardless of his reasons, he has done so many atrocious things that the IC have no reason to think he's a descent person. Mor clearly hasn't said anything about what happened and, as much as I don't like her, she has no on page motive to antagonise Eris otherwise. That might change later, especially if she's the traitor, but as of now, her behaviour seems understandable, somewhat, based on the version of events that she gives.

Yet, despite all of this, the IC still think that essentially whoring Nesta out to Eris because it suits their goals. Regardless of the risks to Nesta's safety, regardless of how Nesta feels about the matter and and simply going off of Feyre's guesses about how Nesta feels without ever feeling the need to confirm if any of them are accurate to Nesta.

Let me summarise: Rhysand and Feyre, Nesta's own sister, thought it was a good idea to use Nesta's artistic passions to seduce a man that is literally 20 times Nesta's age, letting said man ask for Nesta's hand, and letting Nesta consider accepting despite the IC believing he is a woman torturing psycho that would throw her to the wolves at the first chance if it helped him in the end.

Let's not forget that while Eris may be bit of a grey area for us at the moment, the IC knows that Eris also lives with abusers, like Beron, who'd have no issue using physical violence against Nesta. So even if they thought Eris wasn't a monster for some reason, they'd still be putting Nesta in danger. Especially if Beron is working with the Death God, who wants the trove and is using Bryallin to find it.

Oh, and this was all after Cassian came to the conclusion that Nesta was suicidal, and was sexually assaulted in a vision, if I remember right, while on a life threatening mission in a place the rest of the IC, even Amren, is scared of.

Regardless of what Rhysand says, he allows abusers near enough to his family, or the ones he doesn't care as much about, I suppose, and is seemingly willing to let them marry said abusers if it gets him his goal. Rhysand who was abused. Rhysand who's mother was forced into child marriage.

Rhysand who seems to ignore the fact that the Archeron sisters are children. Children can't consent, if it wasn't clear enough to him already. Also, consent must be informed, and last I checked, Nesta wasn't informed about Eris beyond him being a snake. She isn't given a heads up about how abusive he's believed to be, how he may have to kill/watch you die if his dad decides so, or how he's likely to leave you bleeding out in the woods if you're injured. This is literally what the IC believe he is like and they didn't tell her.

Consent needs to be voluntary. I think it's been well established that Nesta likely doesn't feel like she can make real decisions because of consequences she may face.

He's also completely willing to send a suicidal (you can't argue that he doesn't know since Cassian reports everything to Rhysand, and kind of Feyre, apparently, from her Valkyries to her progress in 'healing'/being brainwashed so there's no reason he wouldn't report that too) into life threatening situations, put them in a place where they could jump to their deaths at any moment, with magic that could provide literally anything but alcohol, and filled with weapons.

To conclude, Eris is a grey area in ACOTAR that, at this point, reads as what Rhysand kind of should've been if SJM didn't make him a good guy for no reason. Meanwhile, this 'good guy' is endangering his sister in law through abuse, emotional blackmail and brainwashing, while putting her in proximity with a known abuser. Might I remind you that she's a minor? With possible developmental gaps. And he's doing it all because her being in danger makes his life easier, and the cousin that the dude abused is going along with this without any issue.

[team7-headquarter]

Thinking again about how Sakura and Tsunade are depicted as violent women for comedy relief purposes and how much it links to their value as people in the war setting of Naruto.

Let's start with the obvious: In Naruto, the more capable of violence an individual is, the more the shinobi system finds them valuable.

That's because they are always at war or waiting to be at war. They need to be a threat in order to be respected and in consequences, defenseless people can't speak without someone with great power or influence willing to back them up.

The Land of the Waves is the perfect example.

Now, it's very important to say that comedy relief moments in Naruto aren't meant to be taken all seriously. They tell us about the characters and their dynamics, but "women beats men" is a trope that most of the time is meant to be taken as a sort of compliment for the female characters of Naruto. It means they are strong and won't take any bullshit, that they are assertive, have a strong personality and generally they are great fighters.

I'm not defending the trope. I don't like the trope myself, but it is what it is.

This sort of "masculinization" of the women of a story is common for older media. "She's not like the other girls!", "she was raised with 5 brothers, so she's very tough!", "she does (insert activity that is associated with the male stereotype) so she worries no man will ever find her feminine enough to date her", blah blah blah.

It is followed by the author stating that they are still very much women, capable of being wanted and being feminine— you know the rest.

Those characters are always overcompensating for some vulnerability of their past. They were or felt like helpless little girls at some point, so they decided to grow strong to prevent anyone from hurting them or their loved ones again.

It doesn't matter if their natural positions should have given them some advantage. They were kids and more than that, they were women. It's a given that they were going to be discredited.

In Tsunade's case, she was the granddaughter of the two Hokages, a student of the third one, she was a Senju, a promising medic nin. Yet, it took Dan to speak for her for other shinobis to take seriously her proposal of assigning a medic nin to each team, at least until the war was over.

Tsunade innovated the way wars were fought. It is a fact. What needs to be said about medic nins in times of war is that their services will always work in favor of violence. They save soldiers so they can keep fighting, right? To have the best medic nins on your side makes your tropes terrifying to other countries, 'cause yours would not stay down for long. They would die less, get less sick, it'd be harder to take them down.

Tsunade's first vulnerable moment was when her little brother (Nawaki) died. That's her first time really feeling like a helpless little child. Orochimaru was a strong punch to the gut too, but nothing as bad as losing Dan. She convinced herself that she had put a curse on them by accident and isolated herself.

You remember what she's famous for?

Her beauty, her temperament and her skills.

She's pretty, but don't play with her because she will punch your guts to a new galaxy if you dare.

And that's the joke. Haha, this woman won't let you fool around or disrespect her. She doesn't like feeling like she's being dismissed. In many of the comedy relief situations, Tsunade is punching someone (Jiraiya, Naruto) for being inappropriate when talking to women or existing around women

So it's interesting to think how those scenes were supposed to show the audience that Tsunade was strong and capable and worthy of respect. Look, she is dangerous so it's better not to interrupt her while she's speaking or do not underestimate her for being a women

It was explicitly stated in her fight with Madara, where he called her a weak woman. No comedy there.

Now, those funny-violence gags are not reserved for women. We saw Naruto punch people too because he thought they were being unserious.

I think the real problem comes with the fact that such comedy was maximized with Sakura Haruno

Sakura is the original helpless little girl. Before any other female character, we were presented with a too smart for her own good brat with anger issues who based all her worth on how well she could compete on the social scenario of teenage girls.

In order to understand Sakura, we need to place her side by side with Naruto. They are the hero and the heroine of the manga. They were the first male and female characters we saw being bullied. They were both loud and annoying. None of them thought before speaking or considering how their actions could hurt others. They blindly thought they knew what they wanted, who they liked and who they hated. They had their rivals/best friends and that feeling of not belonging, of always being invisible, of being ignored. Naruto accumulated rage appeared in the form of Kurama, but Sakura had that inner version of herself.

All I'm saying is that Sakura is full of issues and insecurities. Her normal life didn't save her from it, despite what other characters could think.

What was Sakura's arc through Naruto Classic? Do you remember? It was her learning that being shinobis was not a game and that she needed to become dangerous if she wanted to be and do anything in that world of hers. It was not enough to memorize concepts, because applying that knowledge in the safety of a classroom was very different from actually fighting for her life.

Sakura spoke mostly through Naruto back in their genin days. We know she impressed Ibiki Morino with her intelligence and Kakashi gave her some high praise during the Chunning Exams. Those comedy relief was meant to show us that she had the potential, but she needed to learn first.

Turning her into a new version of Tsunade was Kishimoto's way of complimenting her. He gave her the beauty, the strength and the skills. Most importantly, Kishimoto gave Sakura the means to make people shut up and listen to her. There is a reason to consider her within the narrative that doesn't extend to her value to other characters (aka how much team 7 cared about her).

What another example? Think of Temari or Chiyo or Kushina. They are all accomplished kunoichis with attitude and a mean punch.

The contrary is the stereotype of quiet girls who are either made fun of for being weird or get discredited for not being the "violent" type.

[thesweetnessofspring]

I'm convinced that Snow was the one who came up with the "rule change" in THG (idc what the movie did with it--they didn't know TBOSAS and it was less than convincing they way they did it).

Just think about it. We start off the Games with Katniss's courageous action volunteering for her younger sister. Then Peeta did something radical. He decided to follow through on his declaration of love to Katniss and did everything he could in the arena to save her. Getting sponsors, teaming up with the Careers, getting Katniss to leave and fighting Cato for her. Can you imagine what that was doing in the Capitol? In the Districts? How could you watch someone do that and not hope for a happy ending, even as Peeta lay dying in the mud, whispering Katniss's name?

And then Katniss teams up with Rue and is devastated by her death. She stays with her, sings to her, until she dies. Bolstered by Peeta's words about not being a piece in their games and finally getting what he means, she decorates Rue with flowers. She honors her life and her unnecessary death. District 11 recognizes this and even though they have another tribute alive in the Games, send Katniss the bread.

In Snow's mind, everything about the games is starting to crack. Young love being selfless, sisterly affection defying the Capitol, comradery fostering between districts. He simply can't let it go on. He has to remind people in the Capitol and the Districts that this is not human nature. He is going to prove that. So he tells Seneca Crane to announce the rule change.

He expects Cato and Clove to make it to the final two. In their new advantage, they will become a deadly, mostly healthy team. Meanwhile, Snow can see that Katniss doesn't hold the same care for Peeta that he does for her (she had tried to kill him with tracker jackers, after all). Even if she goes to find him, she'll abandon him once it gets too hard, too dangerous. The hope of love triumphing will be met with annoyance at his injuries and agreeing to stay behind and not get his medicine. And even if she does, he'll still be too injured to truly be useful.

But things go awry. Thresh saves Katniss because of her kindness to a little girl he, too, saw as a younger sister. He kills Clove, bringing about Cato's wrath. And Katniss Everdeen turns out to be a better actress than expected.

No matter, though--once the rule change is revoked, the truth of the stripped-down human nature will come out. Oh, Peeta will throw out the ravings of a teenage boy high on hormones, but people will remember how awful they truly are when Katniss puts an arrow through his heart. After all, Snow's made that decision before. His lover or himself. Death in the woods or life with riches in the Capitol. It's easy, really, to make that decision. And people will remember even the best among them, even she who willingly risked her life to get medicine or volunteer for her sister, won't avoid killing in order to survive herself.

But Katniss calls their bluff, and Peeta goes along with it. They've chosen to protest the Hunger Games with their deaths. Seneca makes the call to announce two winners. Really, Snow was going to kill him either way. Someone has to be publicly accountable for the place he's in now, and Snow certainly isn't going to take credit for his idea. After this, he tries and tries to get Peeta and Katniss to have to kill each other. The Quarter Quell. The hijacking. But it never works. And not just because of them, but because a whole nation finally stands up and says Enough. We won't let this go on anymore. In the end, Snow was entirely wrong because he never truly understood love.

[hiskillingjar]

curious as to how you you think strade, law, and ren would react towards an absolute loser/femcel mc, love your account btw

weeeee thank you <3 i'm kind of into this character trope/kink so happy to oblige!

ren 🦊

"i can fix her"

he will make you worse

i mean on the surface he gets everything he wants. someone who likes all the same stuff he likes, he's always liked the shy, nerdy type, after all

what's better, you don't have any friends who will care if...things go a little awry

he'd find your absolute lack of knowledge when it comes to socialising cute. even if you were standoffish, or even rude to him, he'd just use that as a motivation to make you open up

by any means necessary, of course...

he'd like any opportunity to teach you (condition you) to be the perfect girl he wants too.

like my fair lady but kinky. forcefem but for cis people.

and don't worry, he's very patient. he has the perfect vision at the end, and he'll do what he can to make sure it happens :3

law 🥀

"what's a femcel...?"

law would not care, they're basically a femcel themselves.

it would be like two loser girls sitting together and neither one can bring themselves to touch or even speak to the other

granted, they do like the idea of you not having anyone but them to talk to or interact with

they want someone dependent after all

so maybe you'd grow a little closer together, totally detatch yourselves from the rest of the world and prioritise a life together...smoking weed, jerking each other off, watching gore videos

seems like kind of a nice gig tbh

strade 🔨

on first impressions, strade couldn't care less

similar to ren, it might even be a plus.

you follow along so easily to the littlest amount of attention because your self-esteem is so low...he definitely take advantage of that :)

plus, no friends, no witnesses, nobody to come looking for you if you went missing. it's hard not to be appealed to that

you're also just a natural target for teasing and bullying after the fact. you're just so easy to wind up and make upset, how could he possible resist?

very lows and highs with strade though, he's either being sweet on you or making fun of you, making you feel that much more dependent and unbalanced.

and you don't have anyone else to turn to...and nobody is looking for you because you were dumb enough to be totally avoidant when you could have been making friends

if you think about it, this is kind of your fault, isn't it?

don't worry, liebling, I'll always be your friend, even if no one else will <3