#What can I say I’m fucking weak for him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[tddyhyck]

*cartwheels into ur askbox* BLUEEEEEE HOW ARE UUUUU!!!!!

clearly u are talking to urself because u (🫵 YOU!!!) are precious.

u are so right, every song is beautiful and has a different vibe. i didn’t expect to like smoothie in its entirety at first, i liked the vocal parts but the smoothie, smoothie, smoothie chanting in the chorus was unexpected and i was NOT put on this planet to maintain eye contact with lee jeno (or anyone actually…) while he looks into the camera and i was CERTAINLY NOT put on this planet to have na jaemin talk in my ear jkhksjsa but it grew on me afterwards. i cried when i listened to icantfeelanything and unknown on 2 separate nights so maybe i’ll pick those 2 for my favourites… i rlly liked breathing too, but unknown kinda wiped my mind clean. how about u?? i’m not even talking about the performances because they’re *insane*. i just think jaemin would look nice leaning over someone on a table u know… 😞 i remember being so lost when i first saw him holding a sword like jaemin honey why do u have a sword in a song with fruits. then i saw him fighting the fruits and suddenly it all made sense 🙇 (can i just say i found the bubbling sound at the start of second verse so weird on the first listen, before it grew on me? it’s such a funny lil sound, it adds so much character to the song 🫶)

what u said abt jeno is so sweet i will simply cry till the end of time. “he’s very yes to me” such a valid assessment.

ajhdehjgajha ok well u see i don’t remember much about the day… just that i was living life and suddenly had renjun on the mind. specifically dom renjun staring someone down when they’re bratting, and i had a moment like oh, that’s a Thought. (i’m not even much of a brat, where did that come from?) coupled with dumbification 😅 n u’re right the purple looks so pretty on him!!!

all these renjun thoughts of urs ended all of MY thoughts ever. i am WEAK. please always keep getting carried away because i don’t know how to tell u how much i liked everything u said here omfg. (i might take another 100 words to express my feelings and that would be such a shame…) i think i recently stumbled across something to do with rope play (the past couple days have been tiring and i can’t remember much of anything) nd omgg i was gonna bring it up with u cus,, u know how they sometimes tie it in a way that there’s a knot right over,,, anyway 😵‍💫 so glad to see that u mentioned rope here because now i’m going to Think. hah, time to stop thinking.

panty stuffing is that one insane guilty pleasure that i never see enough of and i’m ALWAYS blindsided whenever it comes up anywhere. (is it cursed if i’m thinking of that with our precious kink because of which we started talking…? i promise i don’t have a one track mind 🫶)

gah, how many times do i tell u, U’RE THE SWEET ONE 😭🥺💞🥳 i’m glad u’ve been good 🥰 small font because i didn’t want to clog up ur (or anyone else’s) screen, let me know if u’d rather it stay big haha. i always talk too much but i don’t quite wish to stop 😔 (unless of course u ask me to 😂❤️) sending u another ask wait—

~🪄

OMG did u see the recording video for smoothie 😵‍💫😵‍💫 jaemin all up in my ear and i’m okay with it 🤭 all the songs are so good i can’t stop listening i have unknown and icantfeelanything on my heavy rotation playlist they’re TOO GOOD (chefs kiss) LMFAO jaemin needs to lean over you at the table just saying ¯\_(ツ)_/ jaemin is our fruity fighter protecting us all and making us get our vitamins

renjun + dumbification oh i am SO here for that,, that would change my mind real quick,,, i feel like he would be so good at that too like just fucking you into oblivion,, no thoughts head empty and he’s just taunting and teasing the entire time like “are you sure you can take it?” “you were begging for this earlier” 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

i think renjun is def tying ropes over ur cunt like sry he is ,,, i think he would tie it like idk how to explain this but two pieces on your cunt and then tie the ropes so your legs are spread,,, and he’d talk about how pretty the ropes look against your skin but he can’t wait to see the pattern afterwards 😵‍💫😵‍💫

i think panty stuffing should be the norm i don’t make the rules but i will enforce them 🤭🤭 ALSO AGREE

omg you changed the font size how do u even do that LOL i’m good either way and ALWAYS chat with me i love it 🤭🤭

[safyresky]

Frostmas Year Ten: Behind the Scenes

Prologue | Y1 | Y2 | Y3 | Y4 | Y5 | Y6 | Y7 | Y8 | Y9 | Y10 | Y11 | Y12

[To Read Frostmas: From the TOP | Year Ten]

---

Boy howdy! It was two years in the making but, at about 30k ish words, year ten is FINALLY finished and I can FINALLY say, out loud, that Jacqueline got fuckin FROZEN!

Lots I wanna share because Year Ten had the MOST edits out of all the years I’ve written so far. I do NOT want to know what Year Eleven will be like. Y10 was like, the HARDEST year to write so far! Let's get GROOVING

The Intro

I actually rewrote the intro after finishing the entire year. It was a weak start, originally, I realized after writing those three BANGERS of final scenes!

the version you SHOULD have read was only completed on the 13th, after being rewritten once the day before.

I almost didn’t write an intro for Year Ten. I actually think, when I started writing it, on Easter Day two and a half years ago lmao, I went right into the beginning of the year.

If I’m remembering correctly, I actually didn’t write the intro until after the All-Staff scene!

Scene 1: Bernard Machine BROKE

what the elf is elf version of what the fuck. v. important note

“We’re really in it now Jacqueline” is absolutely, 100%, the Frostmas version of this meme from The Good Place:

And oh boy, with Y10 of Frostmas? WE ARE REALLY IN IT NOW, JACQUELINE

OKAY SO one of the reasons I decided to do these BTS things was for all of the memes/references bc I find it FASCINATING that I can read these chapters and recall DISTINCTLY what I was doing/hyper fixating on at the time. Year Ten edition: Quarantine 2020!

First reference: Jacqueline deciding to go to Timmies

I was 100% projecting, a month into quarantine and I had NO IDEA if Tim’s was open and I was craving timbits and my iced capp of choice (which is also Jacqueline’s)

SO I WROTE IT IN

Two months in I saw they were open via drive thrus and I have a car so I got me that ding dang iced capp

HONESTLY, a lot of Canadians don’t actually like Timmies these days. Apparently, they’ve gone down hill. But Imma be real with you folks, ice capps HIT and I have yet to find a place with a similar drink that hides caffeine well enough for me to enjoy!

Stir-Fry: Best way to make a quick dins and get rid of leftovers

Okay, srs note now: thinking about what would drive Bernard to leave, without knowing what the canon relationship between Jack and B-Man is (tho most people HC that they HATE each other and B wouldn’t take Jack’s BS, and I support this) one of the hardest things I’ve done, to date.

like Jacqueline said in the intro, this is Bernard’s home! He takes care of the elves, they’re his fam! Like, everything considering Bernard’s decision is HEARTBREAKING and the only way I could think of that would allow Bernard to fully leave the picture is, well, him basically trading his “exile” for their freedom.

The conversation they have once B-Man has semi-processed grief is once again, me trying to work it all out

apparently a running frostmas theme for things I can’t figure out is to get Berline some food and watch them scheme. Hey, if it works it works ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Scene 2: Jack gets SERVED

fun fact: I added this scene in after writing about half of the chapter! It was reading very bad prior, since I had just summarized what Bernard did.

“you’re not you when you’re hungry” I think about that commercial a lot. Specifically the Betty White version

it’s also a gr8 Jack line, 100%

so thanks to snickers, i guess, for giving me free dialogue (🤫)

I actually really like this scene! I think it’s a v good villainy Jack scene!

Scene 3: All Staff Meeting

I hate all staff meetings. We had one MONTHLY in quarantine and by the time May rolled around, I never wanted to go to one ever again

SO LET’S MAKE THE ELVES GO INTO ONE! at least they got to go in person 😢😢

Idk why I had B-man give a spare set of keys to Quintin? It’s been so long since I wrote that part, and Quintin makes his way to the Valley in the later half of the year ANYWAY. I actually went back and edited the final few scenes to hint that Quintin splits his time

like some kind of divorce settlement

he and elfsburg divorced. he gets the shop every other week 😂😂😂

ALTHOUGH it IS before B-Man knows he’ll be able to relocate everyone, so maybe that was part of the reasoning?? See, this is what happens when you wip something for TWO YEARS. 30k later ur a mess

Also, hate that Quintin is spelt Quintin. Mostly bc spell check hates it. Sorry spell check, BUT THAT’S HOW IT’S SPELT IN TSC1 END CREDITS

Anyway I think Curtis deserves a little credit, as a treat, and I’m SOFT for B-Man being soft with the elves 🥺

especially since he gets really, really, really into the Resort stuff (that’s canon, you saw him in the last movie!)

Quarantine 2020 Reference: “And for now, it’s the new normal”

we’ve all heard it at this point, even B-Man apparently

also, totally forgot that I had established a LOCKDOWN before covid19 did lmao, almost thought it was another quarantine reference

Scene 4: Frost Mansion/Manor

was two scenes, fixed it to be one scene! one of the many, many, many, MANY edits I was doing up until I finally posted the chapter. This year took SOO MUCH EDITING

the Blaise making a room scene was literally just so I could show off that I finally figured out how warlocks worked in CS :D

AND I FINALLY GOT TO MAKE THE SALARIED/HOURLIED JOKE I’VE BEEN DYING TO MAKE FOR YEARS!!

Legates are salaried! That’s a Crystal Springs FACT

anyway I think about how jelly like the magic in tsc series is. do you? i think about it a lot. like, you could chose any kinds of sounds, and you go for slurping? icky

Scene 5: City Square; Scene 6: Meeting with Governor Blaise

This scene. was another one. that got rewritten way too many times. Idk what it is about Y10, but I could NOT get things sounding decent on the first try for like, MOST of the scenes! Except for the last one, lmao. I’ve had that written for a year :)

it was another opportunity for lore drop tbh, i’m shameless

on that note, I’d like to thank Assasin’s Creed: Valhalla for teaching me what a MOOT is, historically speaking! I read it and was like so THAT’S what CS does! Aight, neat!

“Blaise said with a grin, opening his arms” similar to how Jack said. three or four scenes back 🙃🙃 I didn’t even realize the parallel until the third in process read through!

(Scene 7 is the Council Meeting, and not much BTS info exists for it so we skip!)

Scene 8: Ley Lines

MY BIGGEST MOST GINORMOUS THANKS EVER TO @shittyelfwriter​ BECAUSE I WOULD NOT! HAVE COME TO THIS CONCLUSION WITHOUT HER HELP!

She had the brilliant idea of Christmas trees being like beacons? And chatted with me for a good two or three hours one winter evening in 2020 to help me workshop this idea!

there was another idea of the stockings delivering the gifts but it was knocked down lol, if the trees are calling in the gifts then why on earth would they come shooting through the stockings?

besides, stockings are their own spawn points!!! they gotta be filled with STUFFERS like FUZZY SOCKS, AND CANDY, AND CHOCOLATE!!

no idea how I connected everything together afterwards, tho. Maybe that’s why this year took two whole years to write 😲😲

anyway, yeah, no, thank you SO much as usual ana for being your amazing self FILLED with BRILLIANT ideas and letting me pick from your genius!! something something we stan??? is that meme dead yet?

(oh! and if u squint...u can see Winter watching for frozie Jacquie)

Scene 9: The First Check In

Once again, i have Jacqueline noticing that someone looks slightly different to acknowledge changes in the movies! This edition: Curtis’s growth spurt and slightly deeper voice 👀

(the voice bit was shoehorned in very last minute 🤫)

I ALSO started dropping hints about how Curtis gets very into the Resort later on. I mean, I thought he was way too invested when Scott finds him at the Resort! He was not as disgruntled as any of the other elves were. I’m running with the subtext >:)

FUN FACT: this is where I left off when I initially started doing this Frostmas BTS. I had not made it very far. ONWARDS

Scene 10: Everything Moves Fast

My one regret with this chapter is settling on "New Elfsburg" before placing it in a valley. "Elfsburg Valley" is just so...chef's kiss

BOOM! ELLE DROP! I've got plans for Ms Elle come next chapter. You guys probably won't like it, but uh, I will enjoy the reveal immensely >:)

"saying you were part of Health and Safety went a long way with ordinary beings" -> I'd like to thank Doctor Who episode "Partners in Crime" for this one! I watched it a LOT during the two years of writing this chapter took. It was a rough two years and I was taking all the comfort I could get while isolated from my fiance and my family and LITERALLY EVERYONE

Scene 11: Bag Heist

oh my god this scene. this scene is so good for so many reasons

Jacqueline being an ass

Jack being an ass

God tier frozie sibling banter

Jacqueline acting almost EXACTLY like Jack would just to bug him--hammering home the theme of "becoming what you fear most >:)"

Also, it was so much fun to write! It was goddamn hilarious!

"Do your kids really want the flu?" I asked, hands on my hips. "Because a kid sneezed all over the place a few photos ago, and we need to sanitize this asap. Maybe even close it off for the day."

-> More Covid Nuggets lol

"Barry, right? You chased me out of storage the other day! I remember that, that was fun! How's your arm?"

-> Jacqueline is very much causing trouble and I am trying to really really reinforce that lmao. She's on a first name basis with some of the guards!

"Sorry Barry, but I have the high ground now" -> for some reason, my friend sir eng and my fiance got really into quoting that specific phrase re: Star Wars:

just before my household shifted and we went FULL lockdown, my (now) fiance (then boyfriend) came up for a visit and marathoned Star Wars with our friend Sir Eng while I was working

(I think that's how it went! May have been my other housemate, and then Sir Eng said it to Fiance and it went downhill from there. Idk man. April-Oct 2021 was kind of a blur)

it went downhill from there, haha. It was a popular turn of phrase up until Sir Eng moved out!

FUN FACT: Jacqueline has never seen a Star Wars :)

"That wasn't rhetorical, Jacqueline. Why is it you're holding Santa's bag? Don't you have citrus to freeze? Noses to get all runny?"

"Not until 3," I said, to more laughter.

Thank you based Spongebob for the ABOVE reference :)

Scene 12-14: It's DORMANT

So, my running gag for this year of Frostmas is basically this:

And it SHOWS in this scene, especially! More on that in a mo!

"The Workshop itself had been designed to be a bit smaller, to be ready in time for toy making. It felt a lot bigger on the inside thanks to some brilliant engineering on Quintin's end"

->this is 100% a dr who/British joke, a la this scene from Phineas and Ferb's Avengers crossover. (starts at about 1:20 in in case the link didn't work the way I hoped it would). It lives rent free in my head for whatEVER reason, especially since I never saw the entire episode!

but also, like, why WOULDN'T they have it be bigger on the inside? They're MAGICAL. SUSPEND THE DISBELIEF! anyway.

""At this point, I don't care how you got it. I'm just glad you got it." Bernard said, gently taking the bag off of my arm."

->and so it begins! B-Man literally does not care, he just wants to get this moving and try his bestest to save cribmas 🥺🥺

"Everything dies eventually. Even us," Bernard pointed out.

"You must be fun at parties," I said, thrown off guard.

they are at their WORST! BMAN IS DEPRESSED AF! JACQUELINE IS FROZEN AF! I AM THRIVING!

And Winter is in her element! She's got very mom energy. I'm hoping to explain why she's quietly lurking in the next chapter, but basically she has the BIG WORRY for both Jacqueline AND Bernard! She knows Jacquie's frozen, as we see in the final scene. she's doing her best to be there but NOT be overbearing

And Bernard is doing her a real big worry, too! Her mom senses are going crazy

(Winter would've been gr8 at being the next Mother Nature. She declined when approached by MN when the Legate Law was put into place. More on that in Into the Shadows!)

"If you keep clenching your jaw like that, you're going to need a night guard" -> You'll never guess who did, in fact, get a night guard around this time (last March)

if you guessed me, you are so correct lmao. again, one of those oh hey! I recall why this went in! What a crazy thing to look back at! anyway it's done wonders for stress headaches, and I'm positive Bernard would benefit from having one lmao

Ah yes. A bit of sillies before we head into the BERNARD DOES DUMB SHIT portion! Little Shop of Horrors was the first production I saw "post" covid. I quite liked it. The puppet for Audrey 2? AMAZING.

Jacqueline's Interlude

I just had to edit the Jacqueline interlude because holy guacamole, were there EVER spelling mistakes GALORE. It's like, did I miss that section ENTIRELY?! DAMN.

Anyway, it's kinda funny, I remember getting to that part and having to take a step back with all of the shit I was about to do--those three BANGERS of end scenes 😍😍--and straight up needing a moment to process it ebcause I couldn;t figure out how it all started

Mostly because Jacqueline was mum on the subject, if you can believe it. Can't blame her in the slightest, lol, but when ur characters get suddenly quiet while you're trying to tell their story? YEAH. IT'S A PROBLEM

SO. TAKE THE STEP BACK, SEE WHERE JACQUIE'S AT, AND THEN FIND A GOOD WAY TO GET ON WITH THE NEXT THREE BANGERS!

This was ALSO a fun spot to shoehorn in some ah, CS government lore >:) Do I know how their system works? YES! Do I know wtf it is? NO! But it seems to work for them so YEAH, ENJOY THE LORE

THE LAST THREE SCENES (14-16)

Looking back at these now have me cackling, I really went BAM! BAM! BAM! with a bat to everyone's knees, huh? Anyway

YEAH. WOW. you know, this whole section was unplanned. Like, the bag failing? Unplanned--kinda just happened as I wrote! Bernard doing the dumb shit? Not planned, but the moment I had the bag low on magic, I went ah. yes. Bernard would 100% do his best to help save it, given everything he's sacrificed and lost so far

And Jacqueline would be MAD about it, given the ENTIRE situation that Frostmas is/has caused and also, the FROZEN THING

My god, tho. I really feel for Bernard, you know? It's just. WOW. after all of that everything, you just really, really, really want, need something to go right. I feel like we've all probably been there before!

But yeah, everyone's really at their lowest low here

And even with their sibling-esque banter, Berline is still not doing so HOT

AND THEN THE KICKER! THE FROZEN-NESS! AH!

I had that final scene written for YEARS. I think since year 8 went up? My GOD. Been biting my tongue for WAY TOO LONG to try and avoid spoilers but boy am I GLAD it's OUT NOW! AH!

This year of Frostmas decked me lmao. WOWIE. Anyway, plz enjoy the Y10 bts! and the MEMES! I'm HOPING this kick starts my ass into figuring out why Y11 isn't quite VIBING rn 🤔🤔🤔

[officialscaramouche]

HOLAA 🕴 COOULD I ASK OF A READER THATS THE YOUNGEST HABRINGER (like teenager) AND LIKE THE HARBINGERS BECOME LIKE A FAM TO THEM AND OLDER SIBLINGS AND PLATONIC FLUFF? JUST IMAGINE MEAN SCARA LOOKING ALL INTIMIDATING AND THE READER NEXT TO HIM WITH THEIR PYRO VISION AND SOME FIREWORKS LIKE A CHAOTIC CHILD-

I didn’t explicitly say that they’re in ur little circle but I mean it’s pretty obvious ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pairing: platonic Tartaglia x reader, platonic Scaramouche x reader

tw: there are two fucks

wc: 1,019

It was incredible how you could hold a ball of fire and not get burned by it. You wiggled your fingers as the flames warmed your hand, staring into the brightly colored fire intently, before crushing it between your fist. The dreadful feeling of embarrassment and shame washed over you as you recalled your recent assignment.

You were recruited by the Fatui not long ago. Apparently someone had died and you took their place. You were young, but you weren’t ignorant to battle. Growing up in Natlan taught you how to survive with only your fists. But the Fatui was more than you imagined on the day of your recruitment. “You’ll be acting as a representative of our organization,” the recruiter explained. “You are the full stop when things don’t go our way. And you will be face to face with strong opponents.”

“I can handle that.” You said simply, not truly knowing what was in store for you.

Your first assignment was given to you by the Tsaritsa herself. Her beauty and kindness fueled you with pride and excitement. The people around you warned you not to celebrate too early, but your fellow Harbingers told you otherwise. “You’ll do great,” one of them said.

“Something like this is easy.” A pair of twins said. “It’s difficult to fuck up reconnaissance.”

But somehow you did manage to fuck up reconnaissance anyway, giving away your team’s position to the enemy camp. You were overwhelmed and unprepared, as reconnaissance assignments don't require on-field battle equipment. At most, everyone was given a flare gun for MIA soldiers.

Needless to say, you were pretty embarrassed to meet with the Tsaritsa for an informal report. You were practically shaking in your boots while waiting for the Tsaritsa’s call, when one of your fellow Harbingers took the seat beside you. “What happened out there?” He asked, his hair matted and filthy from being in the field for two weeks. “You were deployed, like, three days ago.”

You buried your face in your hands and shrunk. You pulled your knees up to your chest and hid behind them so as to avoid making eye contact with him. “I messed up!” You cried, your voice muffled against your thighs. “It was all my fault! I slipped on some weak stonewall and fell right into their camp! My team was right behind me, with nowhere to go and no directions to follow!”

The harbinger put his hand on your back and pulled you in. He was the friendliest of them all, you thought, as he was always talkative and cheerful. “Ahh, it’s okay comrade! We all make mistakes!”

“Not like this,” you grumbled, peeking over to look at his blue eyes and vibrant orange hair. “I pushed all further assignments back by at least two months!” The man laughed at your worries and nearly keeled over in his chair. “It’s not funny, Tartaglia!”

“Don’t worry, I said! I promise you everyone is delighted about having their assignments pushed back. Except for maybe the ones on the field.”

“Huh?” You tilted your head. “I thought I was the only one out there? Who else was on the field?”

“Me.” You hear a hoarse voice behind you. You spin in your seat in shock, hoping to dear Archons that it wasn’t who you thought it was.

“The B-Balladeer!” You cry out anxiously. “I’m so sorry!!”

Scaramouche looked as cool as ever, despite not donning his mushi no tareginu. He had swapped his shoes for the building’s clean ones and was nearly in an entirely new outfit. The only exception was that he still wore his Harbinger badge and held his insignia, that is normally on his chest, in his hand. “It’s fine,” he kind of sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was out there with the twins. However, everyone was recalled.” Scaramouche took the other seat next to you, sandwiching you between the two Harbingers.

Tartaglia reached across you and pointed at Scaramouche. “What did you do about the equipment?” He chuckled as he spoke.

Scaramouche slapped the hand away from him and snarled. “What else do you think we did?! You think the recovery team will come out on such short notice?!” Tartaglia erupted into laughter, clutching his abdomen and throwing his head back. Scaramouche rose to his feet and grabbed Tartaglia’s grimey collar. “I really hate you, you know! You’re so annoying!”

Before you realized, you had a little smile on your face. It was relaxing having them bicker and make fun of each other, and made you forget all about your upcoming informal report. But when you did remember it, you weren’t the only one there to give one. They were here for that too.

Tartaglia raised his hands in defeat as his eyes swirled with dizziness. Scaramouche continued to shake the man by his collar with a nasty scowl on his face. “Thank you, guys,” you giggled, catching their attention. “I’m feeling much better now.”

Still in the Balladeer’s hold, Tartaglia sobered up and gave you a charming grin. “Everybody makes mistakes, [Y/N]. I’ll always be here to cheer you up and help you train.”

Throwing the man back into his chair, Scaramouche dusted his hands off of the dirt and sweat from Tartaglia’s clothes and coughed into a fist. “Yeah, me too or whatever. But I won’t be able to help you if you get written up.”

Tartaglia scratched his chin. “Oh yeah, we can’t do anything about that, sorry.”

You clap your hands together proudly. “That’s okay. I’ll give her my best pathetic performance and hopefully I can convince her to let me off with a warning!”

The men kind of chuckle at your comment before your name was called from the Tsaritsa’s room by her assistant. “[Y/N]!”

You feel the sweat running down your temple but there was nothing you could do about it now. “Kick some ass, [Y/N].” Tartaglia cheered, extending out a closed fist to encourage a fist bump. You lightly tap the backs of your fingers against his and steady your resolve as you stand.

[stevesharrlngtons]

amore mio aiutami.

roman godfrey x reader

word count: 5.5k

summary: once more, he took your hand and gave you the permission to mend him.  

a/n: long time so see! at least in the realm of one shots. this came out of aboutle nowhere and is probably super similar to my other stories but guess what? idc  ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ so, i hope you enjoy (: 

“Darling, tell me what you need?” 

“(Y/N).” 

So, as much as Olivia detested you, she did as her weeping son asked and found you. 

You hadn’t seen Roman since the scene at the hospital. After he disappeared after Pryce and Peter had fled the waiting room in a hysteric flurry, you were left alone. You felt as sterile as your surroundings. You felt utterly still and useless. While both boys had crumbled into a fit of emotions, you had remained motionless when the news of Letha’s death had been so crassly and unceremoniously announced over the intercom system. It was like your brain had begun to malfunction, and instead of grief-stricken screams and body quaking sobs, it chose to retain its energy and stay dormant. The news was so blind siding, so heartbreaking, so earth shattering, that it was impossible for you to comprehend. Impossible for you to react correctly. 

So, you had sat for what seemed like hours, all alone, staring into space. Because Letha and her baby were dead. And there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. There was no going back. This morning you had held her hand as hospital staff had wheeled her back into the OR, matching smiles on your faces as she called you ‘auntie’ and you called her ‘mama’. You should have been holding a small little human right now. You should have been looking up at your best friend, palling from excursion but looking upon you with love as you held her bundle of joy. 

Instead, you had been abandoned and left stagnant in The White Tower, unable to function. You could still taste the smoke on your tongue from when Roman had cheerfully pressed his cigar to your lips and told you to inhale. You could still taste copper on your tongue from where you had unknowingly gnawed a gash into your cheek with your teeth. 

A page came over the intercom once more, and for some reason, it was enough to snap you out of your stupor. One minute your eyes were fogged and glassy, and the next, you had been thrust back into reality. The reality of being alone in the waiting room, your nails creasing into your palms uncomfortably, and pending a current decision. 

After a moment of blinking away the dryness in your eyes and swallowing any sick remnant from your chewing incident, you slowly looked down the small hallway to the door Roman had disappeared through. You knew it was best to find him, for both of you, to find him immediately. His gut wrenching sobs still rung in your ears. 

With timid strides, you made your way toward the door and pushed it open. It was likely placebo, but you swore the stench of death hit you like a wall of heat when you passed the threshold. Your eyes began to water from the weight of the smell, but you trekked on. You needed to find Roman. You needed to know he was ok. You needed him to be ok.

You aimlessly wandered the vacant halls, the sound of your own footsteps echoing menacingly around you. You debated calling out his name, but you already knew your voice was out of order for the evening. Possibly forever. 

You rounded a corner, and something in your stomach knew. The cosmic tether that still bound you to your best friend whispered in your ear and twinged in your belly, and told you that she had been there. 

Turn to your right and see what’s left.

And that’s where you found the room Letha had been in. A collection of monitors haloed a hospital bed, that lay behind a puddle of blood. Thick, dark, crimson blood dripped from the stark white hospital sheets and pittered into the puddle below, filling itself out so it could inch toward your feet. 

You knew from that moment on, that that puddle of blood would haunt you forever. Whenever you would start to feel good, or whenever you would see someone with a cut or whenever you would hear her name, this puddle is what would come to mind. This sentient puddle that seemed to be growing larger by the second, and the smell of her freshly dead corpse somewhere in the building. 

You didn’t find Roman. But Norman found you. 

“(Y/N),” his voice called, “You can’t, don’t, look at it…” 

“I should have done something,” your voice croaked, “I should have insisted on coming back here. I should have been here.” 

You should have held her hand while she pushed. You should have wiped the sweat from her brow. You should have cheered her on while she pushed. You should have been there to fucking cut the cord. You should have been there to watch her die. 

“You can’t start. You can’t start that,” you distantly felt him place a hand on your shoulder, “you can’t play a game of what if’s and should have been’s.” 

You managed to tear your gaze away from the growing puddle to look at Norman. Norman, whose face was splotchy and streaked with tears. Norman, whose lip was trembling as he blinked away another onset of sobs. Norman, who still jumped to action to help you when bile flooded your throat and suddenly burst from your mouth. 

Norman, who did his best to console you as you heaved up swilly vomit and choked back tears. 

When you opened your eyes all you could think of was the puddles mixing. Your insides mixing with Letha’s. 

You began to shake uncontrollably then, sobs finally erupting from your chest. Norman wrapped you in his arms, you were sure to console you, but also himself. Maybe he was pretending you were Letha as he held you. 

It was then that Roman finally found you both. 

“I’m leaving,” he said flatly, any emotion he had previously had had been stripped away. 

“You can’t drive like this, Roman. Not after everything,” Norman said from over his shoulder, while he still held you tight. 

“And like you can?” he bit out. 

“Then we’ll all take a cab.” 

And so Roman called a cab for the three of you without another word. 

You tried to look at him. You tried to touch him, talk to him, but it seemed Roman had an aversion to all things in that moment, especially you. You had reached out a weak hand to grab a hold of his jacket as Normal held you to his chest, in a desperate search for his comfort, in a desperate search to comfort him. But, at the feeling of your stretching fingers, he quickly shrugged off your touch and turned his back to you. 

So, you stayed in the arms of your best friend’s father. You tried to ignore the hurt you felt when you all piled into the cab and Roman lifelessly rattled off your address first, making it clear that you were to go home alone, without him. He chose to sit in the front seat, while you and Norman sat in the back. Roman looked out the window the entire way, he didn’t even acknowledge you as you got out of the car and turned to face the yellow vehicle, waiting for a reaction. But you got nothing, just the vision of Roman framed by the widow, lips pursed and eyes cast down. 

The cab soon drove away and you stood in the middle of your front lawn, watching it’s taillights disappear. The street lights were on and you could hear the distant sound of your neighbors sprinkler. You fell to your knees, then to your side, curling up on the grass in the hopes that nature could heal you. Maybe grow around you and help you blossom new in the spring, happy and void of this pain in your chest. 

But your mother found you before then, hours later and brought your inside. Your fists full of blades of grass. 

You slept for twenty one hours after, without a call or text from your boyfriend. You sent him a few stray messages but never heard anything back. You thought it best to give him space, but you were yearning for him so completely. 

And then Olivia showed up. 

You had just sat down for dinner when the doorbell rang. Your father, while long dead, had always had a rule about never answering the door or phone calls while sitting down for a meal. Even though he was gone and it was just your mother and yourself, the rule had stuck, even though neither of you cared that much about if it was disrespectful, like he had. 

You had both looked up from your pot roast when the bell rang, but exchanged a look that you always did in times like this. We’ll deal with it later. But the bell continued, quite consistently and obnoxiously.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a smile in a search to soothe your mother (who took it as an offense when someone wronged a rule from her deceased husband). 

With sock feet, you went to the front door with every intention of politely asking them to leave or come back later, when you were met with Olivia. To say you were surprised was an understatement. 

“Olivia?” you blurted out, because you simply couldn't help it. Her appearance was so unexpected, her name just dropped from your lips. 

“Good evening, I hope I haven't disturbed something,” her elegant voice said as she clasped her hands in front of her. 

“We just sat down to dinner,” you responded, voice sounding as skeptical as you felt. 

“Oh, well, I am sorry to interrupt your supper,” she said with a deep sigh as a period, “but I’m afraid I require your immediate assistance.” 

Which made sense, she had never been this polite to you in the past. 

“With?” 

“My son, I’m afraid.” 

You didn’t need to hear anything else she had to say. You rounded up a pair of shoes and jacket and kissed your mother’s cheek, then fled your home for Olivia’s truck without a second thought. 

She didn’t wait for you to buckle in before she started to drive. She smoked with all the windows up except for a small crack in the driver’s side. The radio hummed an old country ballad and your leg bounced restlessly against the floor mats. 

“How have you been faring?” she asked as you were stopped at a light. 

You didn’t feel like bearing your bleeding heart to her or engaging in any small talk, but you answered anyway. 

“Dreadfully.” 

Olivia hummed as the light turned green. 

“I’m sorry, truly. If it is half as bad as how my son is grieving, I know you are going through something so hideous... going through feelings that humans are not equipped for.” 

You nodded at her lukewarm attempt to console you and watched the world pass through the window. 

“I know what you think of me, your distaste for me. You are less than subtle about it. But then, I suppose so am I.” 

This drew your attention back to her. 

“Just because I don’t, well, enjoy your presence, that doesn’t mean I don’t see what you do for my son’s happiness. It doesn’t mean I don’t see how well you treat him, even when he bloody well doesn’t deserve it. You’re good to him, for him. I see it all,” she continued, eyes briefly leaving the road to look at you, “As his mother, I have always wanted to protect him, to be the only woman he loves with such feriousty. And I know that is a reason why I hold such a contempt and resentment toward you. Misplaced, possibly, but I can’t help it. He is my only son and I would do anything for him. Which entails me… weeding out the riff raff. But here you still stay, ready and willing to take me on to love my son. Not an easy feet, but an admirable one.” 

As she was finishing, you came up to the Godfrey mansion. 

“I do accept you, you know? I do, in my own way. And I hope through the thunder and the rain you will accept him too,” she turned off the engine but made no move to exit the car, “it is such a pity that things couldn’t have been different. That you couldn’t have been the one to bear the weight of all of this, isn’t it?”

Olivia then reached out and ran the back of her hand gently over the apple of your cheek, examining you in the way you would a prized pig at auction.

“But, I know that you will play a part in this before it is all over.” 

She carefully took a single stand of your hair between her finger tips and slowly ran them down to the end. Her beauty had always been intimidating, but in this moment with the lowlight of the moon, her face was frightening. Like someone had pulled back her mask to reveal her ghastly, maleficent exterior. The hair stood up on the back of your neck as she surveyed you, and you had never felt like you had ever been in more immediate danger as you were in that moment. While you couldn’t see your expression, you could feel it was confused and slightly horrified. But Olivia could, and so she sighed. 

“You better get in there now. The attic. He’s expecting you.” 

She returned to her cigarette and looked out the windshield like she had been alone the entire time. Like she hadn’t been looking at you like the last gulp of water in the desert. You didn’t need any more prompting to flee the vehicle.

You found him in Shelley’s room, that was now bare of any signs of life. If you hadn’t been in this room just last week, you would have never known that it had been someone’s residence. You would have likely ruminated on the gross action on Olivia’s part for gutting her missing daughter’s room if it hadn’t been for Roman. Your sweet, broken Roman. 

He sat with his knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around his middle. He wore an old flannel shirt and the most pitiful look on his face. His lower lip quivered and his doe eyes widened with grief and need. 

“(Y/N)...” he choked out your name, half question half relief. 

“Oh, my love,” you simpered before you ran to him and fell to his feet. 

Once your knees hit the hardwood, Roman burst into tears, his long arms reaching for you. You went to him easily, effortlessly; you wormed your way between his legs and shuffled forward until you met his chest. Roman wound himself around you like a snake devouring its prey: with no way of you getting out of his hold. He clutched onto you like a lifeline as he sobbed into the crook of your neck, spouting apologies on an endless loop. 

I should have called. I’m sorry. I missed you. I needed you. I wanted you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please, please, please.

What? Please, what? 

Make this pain go away. 

And you wanted to tell him that if you knew how, you would have remedied yourself days ago. But that wasn’t helpful, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear or what you wanted to say. So, all you said was: 

“Ok.” 

You sat with him on the floor until his tears ran dry. Your back throbbed in discomfort and your knees ached from your position on the hardwood, but you didn’t move a muscle. What was going to help you get through this, was to help Roman get through this. You would save the one Godfrey you could. 

You had luck with suggesting you move to his bedroom after his body stilled from it’s cries. Roman nodded against you, and when you pulled away he left gritty tear tracks and dried snot smears on your skin. He wiped his eyes childlike, with the back of his hand, before he seemed well enough to let you stand from his hold. He let his tired hand skirt its way down your back as you stood and then promptly took a hold of your hand.You stuck your other out for him to take, which he did gratefully and you pulled him to his feet. 

On the way to the elevator, you bore most of Roman’s weight. His arm was around your shoulders and both of yours were around his waist, keeping him upright. He momentarily wrapped his other arm around you as the elevator lurched down to his floor, before returning it to his side once the doors opened again. 

You led him to his bedroom and felt a pang in your chest when you saw the state he had been living in. Discarded clothing and food wrappers covered the floor, empty cups and beer bottles held purchase over every surface they could, ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts and whatever he was smoking were scattered about. 

“Let’s sit, baby,” you said, moving Roman to his unmade bed and placing him on the corner, “do you wanna change into something?” 

He shook his head swiftly and reached his hands out to tug on the hem of your t-shirt, “Just take it off.” 

And you understood. 

You helped him strip first, down to nothing at all, then did your own clothing. Adding both sets to the sea of laundry on the floor. 

You stood in front of Roman in a position that would usually lead to a night of passion, but now was going to lead to a night of reassuring intimacy. Roman skated his fingers along your skin, cataloging every part of you with his fingertips and green gaze. Like he was proving to himself that you existed. He ran his thumbs under the flesh of your breast and moved in clean vertical lines to touch your nipples. He kept his thumbs in place as palms and remaining fingers came to cup you delicately. Roman met your eyes for a brief moment before he bowed his head against your sternum and deflated with a sigh. 

Tears stung your eyes as your hands, that had been laying listlessly at your sides as he examined you, came to weave into his disheveled hair. Tugging periodically at his roots in a reminder of your everlasting presence.  

You felt his chapped lips place soft, barely there kisses against your chest intermediate with his strained breathing. He nuzzled his face against your skin like he was trying to tunnel his way inside you for safe keeping, and when his efforts failed, he had to settle for the small kisses to taste you after your short separation. 

“I need you. I needed you. Stay,” he whimpered to your body, gripping your breasts tighter as you did the same to his locks. 

“Ok, yes. I’m here. I’m here now.” 

He nodded, before you gently pulled him away so you could look at his beautiful face. That was still as stunning as the day you met him, even with the profound sadness in his expression. 

“Let’s get some sleep, alright? I think that would do you some good,” you didn’t know for a fact, but the circles under his eyes told the story of his insomnia. 

He sniffled, but nodded once more. He let you go to scoot back on his bed and rummage around for the corners of his blankets so you both could slip underneath. He collected the haphazard covers the best he could, then draped them open. Roman looked to you with a soft, frighteningly innocent expression for your boyfriend, and patted the spot next to him. 

You crawled over to the spot and laid down. When Roman covered you both up and under his bedding, you could smell the wafting smell of smoke, body odor and beer coming from the sheets. Roman settled next to you and wrapped you back into his arms, he pulled you so suddenly to his chest you couldn’t help the tiny gasp from your lips upon the impact. He mumbled an apology as he got comfortable around you. His arm around your waist, his nose buried into the crown of your head, his leg thrown over your own. Roman created you a human cocoon, one that left you no option for escaping from.

Though, you really had no interest in leaving. You had missed this man with your entire being and to be near him again, made your heart swell with love and drain a fraction of the sadness in your chest. Roman’s embrace could cure a lot, but unfortunately not this agony. But, it was a start, and he was a salve you would never turn down. Roman always made everything better for you (even if in the moment, it felt like he was making it worse). 

You pressed your lips to his knuckles and let out an encompassing sigh and let your eyes shut. You ran the tip of your tongue over the cracks in his skin and he hummed sweetly behind you, like a cat’s purr. You hoped that when you woke, you would feel better and Roman would be healed, even if you knew that was impossible. It was impossible, but you were allowed to dream as much as you wanted. 

Forty five minutes later, you woke with a thin sheen of sweat heavy on your skin. Following your marathon sleep session after your mother found you on the lawn, you hadn’t slept more than two hours at a time. You had hoped Roman’s presence would help, but it seemed it was something in your body that would just have to run its course. You thought about seeing a shrink as you ran your nose along Roman’s radial bone. It could help you… but maybe Letha’s death was still too fresh to be searching for help. You’d give it a month, maybe six. Maybe then it would be easier to talk about. 

Your whole life seemed to be composed of maybe’s lately. 

Maybe things would get better. Maybe Letha would still be alive if you were in the room with her. Maybe Roman will call. Maybe he would hold you together when you broke apart. Maybe taking care of him would fix you both. 

You just had to hope you figured it all out soon, because you didn’t know how much uncertainty you could take. 

The longer you laid in Roman’s arms, no matter how much you had missed his embrace, you became restless. The room seemed to be closing in on you, the clutter unavoidable and ignorable. The mess was so awful that you couldn’t shake it from your mind. Some of the beer bottles had gained mold and there was a fly buzzing around an old fast food bag in the corner, not to mention the hills of dirty clothes that barricaded you from his en suite. The maternal, coddling feeling you felt in the attic to protect and fix Roman flared in your stomach and seeped into your blood stream until all you could think about was cleaning up the grieving mess he’d made. 

So you did. 

You gingerly extracted yourself from Roman’s hold, which had thankfully loosened from the depths of his slumber. You tiptoed over to where you had discarded his flannel from earlier and buttoned it up on your body. The last thing you wanted was to be caught going in and out of Roman’s room stark naked by one of the staff or God forbid Olivia. At that chilling thought, you slipped on your panties as well. 

You left Roman’s room, leaving the door cracked so you didn’t have a chance to wake him. Then, you scurried down to the kitchen and gathered a box of trash bags and a pair of rubber gloves from the side of the sink. On your way back upstairs, you found Annalisa and told her there would be a few trash bags to collect from outside Roman’s room. You whispered, even though you were separated from Roman by two floors. 

Back in Roman’s room, you crept around on light feet as you stuffed pizza boxes, rotting receptacles and overflowing ashtray contents into each white bag until they were full. You tried to pad the beer bottles with layers of other trash so they wouldn’t make as much noise, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t look over at the bed with baited breath each time they clinked together. You managed to fill four garbage bags without waking him, and set them outside his room for Annalisa to retrieve. When the trash was handled and the shapes of his living space were appearing again, you moved onto the laundry. You had planned on taking arm fulls down the hallway to the laundry shoot, then take the elevator to the basement to do as many loads as you could before Roman woke. Unfortunately on your third trip down the hall, you heard Roman’s throat crackling wail of your name. 

You raced to Roman’s room and burst through the ajar door to find Roman, blankets pooling at his waist and tears in his eyes. 

“Where did you go? You were gone!” he shrieked at you in anger as he battled off his cries.

“I was just trying to clean up a bit, Ro,” you replied, rushing to his side and sitting side-saddle on the bed.

“You said you wouldn’t leave,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“I was just down the hall, honey. I never left.” 

“You can’t leave me, you can’t leave my side. You can’t leave too,” he voice wavered at the end of his sentence. 

Roman’s face soured and a scream erupted through his teeth and his face fell into his hands. He was furious he still felt so broken. 

“Roman, baby, no. No, I’m not gonna leave. I’m here, I’m here, always. Always, always, always…” you said as you rested your chin on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around him, “I have you, Roman. I’m not leaving.” 

You rocked him gently and cooed to him sweetly. You ran your hands over his skin and kissed the curve of his jaw until his breathing slowed once more and excess tension seemed to dissipate from his body. 

“Do you wanna go back to sleep?” you asked, placing your cheek where your chin had been, so you could look at him, “I won’t get up this time.”

Roman shook his head, almost petulantly. 

“Do you wanna shower? No offense Ro, but you smell kinda ripe,” you played. 

“I haven’t had the energy,” he snapped. 

He tried weakly to pull away from you, but your arms held strong. 

“What about a bath? It’s low energy? I could take it with you if you want?” you proposed, not letting his bitter response deter you. 

“You probably wouldn’t want to...because I smell like shit and all,” he pouted indignantly. 

“Ro, I would bathe with you even if you actually smelled like shit. I’d do absolutely anything to take a nice bath with you, baby.”

You looked up at his profile and laid a series of pillowy kisses to his shoulder and trap muscle, before Roman sighed. 

“Ok, we can take a bath.” 

You smiled, “I’ll go get it started.” 

You stood and walked to the bathroom (that you had made accessible) and started the water for the tub, and ran your fingers under the tap until it was Roman’s desired temperature. When you turned back to Roman, he had craned his neck to watch all your movements, his face full of worry. He didn’t trust the universe enough to take his eyes off you, again. 

As you went toward him and Roman’s gaze never left yours. Not as you approached the bed, not as you walked across its surface on your knees, and not as you took his face in your hands. 

“My beautiful boy,” you hummed quietly as you studied his face. 

His creamy silk skin, his cherry stained lips, his fluttering eyelashes that framed perfect emerald eyes. You ran your thumbs over the expanse of his cheek bones, around the hollow of his eyes and followed the bridge of his nose to trace the arch of his eyebrows. 

“My sweet boy,” you moved closer to his lips and Roman let out a distinctive mewl and you reveled in the pleasure of knowing you were making him happy. 

You placed a soft kiss to his plump mouth and poured as much love and affection into it as possible. You nudge your nose against his and Roman sighed peacefully at the feeling. 

The kisses shared were simple, chaste, but earnest. Your hands stayed clasp on his cheeks and Roman’s lay lax on his lap. You hadn’t kissed so soft or so innocently since you had first started seeing each other. While it was a change of pace for the two of you, it was well appreciated and savored.

When you pulled away from Roman’s mouth, he followed yours until you held his head study. 

“I think the bath should be about ready by now.” 

You got off his bed and held your hand out from him like you had in the attic, your way of asking him to let you usher him into comfort. Once more, he took your hand and gave you the permission to mend him. 

You walked together to the en suite and you turned off the tap and shed yourself of Roman’s flannel and your underwear. You carefully stepped over the lip of the clawfoot tub and tried not to hiss at the obscene temperature he preferred and delicately lowered yourself into the steaming water, as Roman watched. Once you were submerged you looked up at him in question. 

“Get in, honey,” you encouraged, shrinking back against the porcelain to give him room. 

“I always hold you in the bath. That’s how this works.” 

“Not this time. Now, get in.” 

Roman looked on at you with a scowl.

“The water is getting cold, Ro. You either waste this lovely bath or you get in and just let me hold you.” 

He looked over his shoulder, like a stranger may burst in and revoke his masculinity card if he let you be the big spoon. You wanted to poke fun at the action, but kept your mouth shut. He was unbelievably fragile at this moment, and all he needed was your kindness and protection. 

“I’m supposed to take care of you,” he carped, “I’m supposed to protect you, y'know? Not the other way around.” 

“I’m not allowed to take care of you?” 

“No, it’s just,” Roman frowned, “I’m supposed to be the one who fixes. I’m supposed to take care of you.” 

“And you do. But right now, I am taking care of you. And I always will, whenever I can and whenever you need it. It’s just a part of the deal.” 

“Why?” he asked, his voice suddenly null of all angry testosterone, and full of vulnerability. 

“Because I love you, Roman. I am hopelessly and utterly in love with you,” you shrugged lightly, “and that just means that I will always take care of you.”

You said this to him so frankly and so decisively that it left so room for him to argue or pout. You had told him a resounding fact and it was clear you wouldn’t hear otherwise. 

After an uncomfortable thirty seconds of shifting his weight between his heels as he stood on the cold tile, Roman stepped into the water and settled against your chest. 

You rounded your arms into the water and to hold him around his middle and hooked your feet over his shins. 

Roman’s height, even now, dwarfed your own. He could easily and comfortably recline his head over your shoulder and against the tub. You hummed with peaceful satisfaction and slowly felt Roman relax against you. His tight muscles unraveled from their persistent tension, and he let his body be molded by the soothing water into his usually relaxed stature. 

For a while, you both sat in content silence. The only sound in the room was the gentle slosh of the water and your matching even breaths. You stroked the skin of his stomach with nimble fingers, rounding his belly button and going through the hair above his groin. You ran your thumbs over the hollow of his ribs and over his protruding hip bones.

“(Y/N)?” 

“Yeah?” 

Roman twisted against you to be able to look you in the eye, “I love you, too.” 

“I know, honey,” you placed a kiss to his nose and he smiled softly. 

Though, his lips slowly flattened again and he looked at you earnestly, “I don’t want you to worry about protecting me. It really is my job.” 

You weren’t going to argue gender roles and Roman’s twisted ideas of honor and rights then, so you just nodded. 

“Ok, baby. You can protect me again tomorrow.” 

And that seemed to satiate whatever macho part of his was blazing in his chest to turn back around and snuggle into you. 

Surrounded by tempted water and all things Roman, your pain was briefly smothered by love, which really, was the best you could do. And that was more than ok for now. 

is it strikingly similar to my other one shots? ya. do i care? meh, not really. do i still hope you liked it? yes!!! 

feedback is greatly appreciated, so if you did enjoy this, lemme know (:

@girlinthecorner​

[fakecrfan]

AU where Jon was caught with Gerry's loose page before he could smuggle it out of the country. Trevor and Julia are rushing towards him at the airport so he panics and eats the page to destroy it before they can get it. Yes this is an elaborate set up for one of those "Gerry possesses Jon" stories

okay DAMN this is an excellent start to an AU, I cackled. Also, I was JUST thinking the other day about how I, personally, would write a jongerry fic so this is an excellent opportunity.

Okay so here is my Thing with jongerry. I don't vibe with most fan content of it. I think this is because it skews heavily towards "look at these two poor boys be Understanding and Kind and find emotional support in each other and heal together ❤️" and I am a ghoul who feasts on suffering and conflict just think that it erases what I actually liked about their canon dynamic!

Like, okay. Gerry isn't gonna be anyone's angelic, emotionally supportive bf in the state Jon finds him. He's tired and pissy and his canonical response to hearing about another oncoming apocalypse is "That sounds like a you problem buddy, I'm a FUCKING book so I don't give a shit." He's willing to play hardball and be a bit sneaky with Jon to get Jon to release him, and then goes "oh whoops turns out I don't actually know how to stop the Unknowing, seems you've already torn out my page tho so I guess you have to go through with sneaking me out ¯\_(ツ)_/¯"

So here is the Deal.

It goes as you said. Jon eats Gerry's page. Julia and Trevor stare in shock because WHO DOES THAT, ISN'T THAT PAGE MADE OUT OF SKIN??? He gets possessed. Suddenly Gerry's voice is coming out of him.

"Welll, bollocks," Julia says. "I guess we'll have to just take the whole man back to keep our encyclopedia."

Shit, Jon thinks.

"Shit," Gerry says.

And so the jongerry fusion gets tossed in a trunk and driven back to Buttfuck Nowhere, Kansas or wherever the fuck their hideout is. In the trunk, they find out they can communicate with each other.

"Why didn't you just BURN MY PAGE?" Gerry screams.

I was going to! They got me first!

Gerry thinks about that for a second, and squints as some Knowing kicks in. "Wait a second," he says. "We're miles away from the hideout I first talked to you in! You were just about to get to an--airport?"

Uh, well....

"You had days to burn my page! You could have done it at any time, couldn't you?" Gerry says.

I...

"Did you actually plan to burn it at all? Or just take it back to the Archive and file me away for future reference?"

No response. There is only a weak, curling shame, because Jon doesn't know the answer to that.

[katiea03]

hellu! a friend led me to your account and i wanted to req smth right away! i'm a girl who loves hurt comfort so can you do smth with tsukki and kenma where reader doesn't like sitting on their lap or getting carried because she doesn't want to squish them?? thanks bby ❤

❣︎Reader Scared To Sit On Their Lap❣︎

Thx you sm for the request! This one hit home as this is lowkey a insecurity I have but I had a lot of fun writing it! 👁👅👁

❣︎Warnings❣︎: Weight,suggestive

❣︎Genre❣︎: Hurt/comfort, lil fluff

❣︎Featuring❣︎: Tsukishima, Kenma, Oikawa

❣︎A/N❣︎: This is my first official request and I’m really excited how it came out! I/ve never written a scenero or hurt/comfort before but i really liked it! I threw Oikawa in with the other two because of how perceptive he really is. I feel like people forget how smart Oikawa is so he gets a lil love. Am I really starting to become an Oikawa simp maybeeee ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Probably for the first time ever, Tsukishima Kei was clingy. You were hanging out at his place after school as you usually did but today you couldn’t help but notice how tightly Tsuki held onto your hand, or how he would use your head as a resting place for his more often. You obviously weren’t opposed, just surprised by his sudden change in character.

You looked through the kitchen for snacks when Tsukishima hugs you from behind. You jump a little and turn in his arms to see him with his signature smirk that made your knees weak “What’s gotten into you today?”

He looked at you amused “What do you mean?”

He rests his hands on your hips , “You’ve been very touchy that’s all.”

“You don’t like it?” He looks as if he’s about to pull away. You pull him in quickly before he has a chance to pull away. Resting your head on his chest,

“I never said that. I think it's really nice.” You take in the fresh scent of his hoodie.

“Oh yea?” There’s a faint smugness to his words that you recognized instantly

“Yea.” And before you knew it, you felt yourself being lifted up. Panic rushed through you and you tried your best to squirm out of his grasp,

“Put me down! Please just put me down.” Tsukishima could sense the gravity in your voice and put you on the kitchen counter.

“What’s wrong Y/n.” He could see the uneasy look on your face and wondered what he did wrong. You stood silent, not making eye contact with him.

“Babe what is it… did I hurt you?” You remained quiet. Tsuki didn’t want to push you to say anything you didn’t want to, but he was concerned.

“If you don’t want to say anything that okay bu-“

“I’m worried I’ll break you…” Your voice came out shallow. Tsuki almost laughed, not because what you said was funny, but because of how ridiculous the notion was, “What do you mean?”

Still not being able to look at him, you croak out, “I’m scared I’m too heavy for you.” At this point you’re trying to hold back tears. You’re weight has always been such a huge insecurity for you, and truly having to admit it was almost embarrassing.

Tsuki cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him. He had no idea you felt this way, and he wasn’t too sure what to say so the kitchen was almost awkwardly silent. You were about to pull your face away when he tells you,

“Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now?” You snap your head to look directly at him. That wasn’t the type of response you were expecting.

“I love you, and no matter what size you are that won’t change. But no, you won’t break me, I’m almost 6’4.”

You choke out a laugh and wipe the tears that brimmed at your eyes,

“Yea but Kei, you’re built like praying mantises!” Tsuki poked you before throwing you over his shoulder and carried you to the living room. You shrieked kicking your legs as genuine laughter escaped your lip.

This would be the first night you would be spending the night at Kenma’s place. He’s spent countless nights at yours but you finally asked to spend the night at his.

Stepping out of the shower, hair wet, and wearing one of his hoodies, you go to look for him. Along the way you inspected his apartment more. There was nothing too special about it, it wasn’t the neatest by any means but you could tell he tidied up a bit before you came. You passed by his living room and saw only a couple photos. He didn’t look too enthusiastic in them but a small smile laced your face seeing him with his friends and family.

You quietly make your way down the hall to his gaming room, and with a soft knock, you creak open the door. Kenma was intensely staring at his computer screen with his huge gaming headset on with his hair messily pulled back. He couldn’t hear you come in but he sensed your presence and turned his head to you.

He softly smiled at you and slid off one side of his headset to hear you properly.

You walked behind his chair and peered at the screen , “So what are you playing right now?” Kenma focuses back on the game and mumbles, “ Rainbow…”

A minute or two goes by of you just wanting his hands rush across the keyboard. His face stayed as neutral as ever, the only indication of stress was the tiny crease that bunched in between his eyebrows. He wins another game and takes off his headset while waiting for the next round to start. He pulled your hand around to sit you into his lap but you backed up and settled on sitting on the arm of his chair. He could see how uncomfortable you were and peered up at you.

“What’s wrong?” You sat a little straighter, “Nothings wrong Kozu.”

He looks up at you unconvinced, “Y/n”

You crossed your arms and try putting on your best face. Unfortunately for you, Kenma knew them all.

“Tell me, what is it?” He took one of your hands in his, softly rubbing his thumb over your palms. You searched his face for any way out of this inevitable conversation you landed in, but to no avail. You sighed and stared intently at the screen in front of you.

“What if I’m too heavy?” What you asked didn’t process in his head for a moment. But when it did, he instantly pulled you into his lap without warning. You go to stand up but he wraps his arms around you, holding you down. You hide your face in his polyester t-shirt feeling extremely self-conscious. You slowly feel yourself calm down and you get yourself more comfy on his lap.

“See you aren’t too heavy.” Kenma is a man of very few words, but as he ran his fingers through your wet hair, you couldn’t have felt more safe and loved.

The next match started and as he slid on his headset (only one ear had it on), you stayed there watching him play. You felt yourself doze off in probably the most comfortable position you had ever been in.

Oikawa was going on about another ridiculous alien conspiracy documentary and was begging to watch it for tonight’s Friday movie marathon. He already had his ‘stylish’ purple alien socks along with his even more ‘trendy’ neon green space martian shirt (according to him of course!). He was already comfy on the worn down couch he owned with tons of blankets.

You come out from the kitchen wearing a big t-shirt of his with the popcorn and set it on the coffee table.

“Oh my beautiful Y/n, what would I do without you?” He sits up on the couch with his head in his hands.

“Probably starve and die.” Oikawa opens the blanket waiting for you to cuddle on the couch with him,

“Rude, but you’re probably right.” He pats at his lap and you come closer to the couch, nervously taking a seat next to him rather than sitting on his lap. You turn on the couch looking for the remote when Oikawa outbursts,

“Ummm excuse me?” He has a hand on his heart with an exasperated look on his face.

You turn to him pretending to be clueless but as you play with your fingers, Oikawa knew something was wrong.

“Shawty, is my lap not good enough for you?” He puts on his best fuck boy face to try and make you laugh- and it usually did, but not this time. He drops the act and pulls your leg onto his.

“Spill, what’s going on?”

Not a sound comes from your lips and you just continue to look down at your lap.

With an extra dramatic sigh he wipes fake tears from his eyes, “ If you're not gonna say anything, I’m gonna have to assume you have terminal cancer.”

You shoot up with wide eyes,

“No!” With that Oikawa throws his head back laughing and you can’t help but laugh too. Eventually the laughter dies down and Oikawa has his serious face again.

“So are you gonna tell me what’s going on now?”

It’s quiet for another moment before you actually speak, “I don’t really wanna talk about it babe.” Of course, Oikawa wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

He takes both of your hands in his and kisses them both gently.

“Y’know you can tell me anything.” He was genuinely a little hurt that you felt like you couldn’t talk to him about whatever it was.

“Yeah I know, it's just-I .” You took a deep breath as you felt the tears sting your eyes. Oikawa waited patiently,

“I just feel like I’m too heavy for stuff like that.” Small tears began to stream down your cheek, but Oikawa wiped them away before they could fall too far.

Oikawa’s heart broke wiping away your tears. He had no idea you were dealing with this. He feels the tiniest bit of futile guilt. Despite it not being his fault, he wishes he could’ve done something to make you feel better about yourself. He kisses the top of your head before telling you,

“You are beautiful exactly the way you are, and I’m gonna prove it to you. I promise you.”

You feel your face go warm at his promise to you as he easily lifts you onto his lap. He pulls you into a deep kiss, and as your lips connect you feel the worry and anxiety melt from your body. His kisses trail to your collarbone and the collar of his shirt falls down one side of your shoulder. He leaves a sweet kiss on the edge of your shoulder,

“I don’t care if it takes all night baby.”

He looks up at you with such adoration, you know what he was saying was true. The way he looked at you made you feel beautiful inside and out.

Oikawa was true to his word, and made sure to worship you like you deserved.

[allisonlol]

So, this theory may be somewhat flimsy as I’m not as informed on BSD lore as I could be (I’m a huge fan, but I feel things can get a little convoluted at times). Most of the info I have on The Great War was just from the Wiki lol. However, I kind of wonder if Fyodor was (directly or indirectly) involved in that war as a child? My foundation for this theory is quite weak, but… the TL;DR is basically: - We know Fukuchi was involved in The Great War. I think Fyodor and Fukuchi have overlapping beliefs, likely resulting from a shared involvement in the war. 

Some people have theorized that Fyodor is using Fukuchi for his own plans, which I could totally see – however, I think their motives/beliefs could be quite similar*. So, maybe Fyodor sees him as less of a pawn and more of an actual colleague. Heck, they could have a much darker version of the Fukuzawa/Ranpo bond for all we know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Anyway, Fyodor’s character is still shrouded in mystery, but from the liiittle bit we’ve seen, they seem to share similar sentiments. -> "Man is sinful and foolish.. Even if they know it is all an artifice, they cannot help but kill each other. Someone must purify them for those sins." (It’s just one statement, but I can see a slight resemblance to Fukuchi’s views here)

Seems like ability users were also heavily involved in the war.  Which, in some way or another, could be where Fyodor’s… er, let’s just say “disapproval” of ability users stems from.

Fukuchi seems to be driven entirely by his trauma – more of a nurture over nature case. I think’s it’s slightly different with Fyodor (he just seems a little fucked in the head by nature lol).

We know the way eyes are drawn in the manga are confirmed to have symbolic significance, and it seems that their eyes are drawn similarly (though Fukuchi’s eyes are still drawn brighter). That kind of “blurry” look? If that makes sense lol? I’m honestly not sure what it means, though. 

Anyway, there’s more to this theory in my notes app, but my thoughts are muddled and I need some sleep ^^; Sorry if most of this was obvious, or if it seems incomplete. I admit this is very poorly structured.

I had other theories on Fyodor’s ability, as well as his methods of communications + other random thoughts, but this is already quite lengthy lol. I apologize for the messy/underdeveloped theory/observations, but thank you for reading. It’s 4:30 AM, I should probably head to bed. I hope you have a wonderful day/night <3

*I guess that’d be obvious, considering they’re both in the DoA. But with other DoA members, it doesn’t seem like they’re striving for a shared goal?

nah you definitely got something going on here!! i would love to see them actually interacting so we could tell more from it. can we have more on the great war too like?!! i really wonder how fukuchi got the way he is (and fyodor too). yes, we got bits and pieces of his backstory and being in the war and such, but something REALLY BAD must've happened to make (both of em) as bad as they are now.

altho, it could be argued that fyodor is NOT evil and has pure intentions, which i somewhat agree with, but fukuchi?? i just don't see a motive yet. WE NEED MORE INFOOOOOO

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for May 2021! Below the cut you’ll find 17 One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup.

New York Kiss by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

[Louis/Zayn, Mature, 47k, tumblr post]

“Also, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m quite the narcissistic type, and I didn’t want that cute guy to have a bad opinion of me for the rest of his life.” “Who, me?” Zayn bats his lashes jokingly, ignoring the fact that his heart skipped a beat at Louis’ words. “Yeah, you. So, shall we go?” Louis drops what remains of his cigarette on the floor and steps on it to light it off. Meanwhile, Zayn makes a reckless decision. “Alright. Lead the way, De Niro.”

Or: A strangers to lovers AU where Louis is an actor, Zayn is a writer (among other things), and they meet each other literally by accident in NYC, just as the world is about to turn upside down.

I Love The Very Blood Of You by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 

[Harry/Louis, Explicit, 129k, tumblr post]

“I don’t just like him …” Harry muttered, fiddling with the string at the waistband of his jogging bottoms that had definitely seen better days. “I love him, Zayn. I’m in love with Louis. With a vampire.”

He looked up just in time to see a small smile on Anne’s face, and she reached out with a hopeful look. Harry couldn’t resist, and put his large hand in hers, letting her comfort him for a moment.

“I could tell there was love between you,” she confessed softly, a light blush on her cheeks. “When I met you, I knew you were smitten with each other. I won’t pretend it doesn’t make me nervous, but … I can’t tell you who you can and can’t love, sweetheart.”

A vampire. A human. A broken arrangement. A love long since forbidden. Hunted by hate. Destined.

One More Taste of Your Lips by MsHydeStylinson @mizzhydes and @canadianlarrie

[Harry/Louis, Explicit, 80k, tumblr post]

It had been eight years since the hiatus began, and Louis had spent that time writing and recording music, touring and making it safely through the pandemic. When the opportunity arose to go back on tour with One Direction, Louis knew he'd be a fool not to take it. Sure, life on the road would be different after all this time apart, but he was looking forward to experiencing that comradery again.

What he hadn't realised was that living the better part of nine months in each other's pockets was bound to dredge up issues from his past. And when one of the pockets belonged to Harry, who he'd had a rather unconventional friendship with that drifted apart during their last tour, life on the road again would upend both their lives in irrevocable ways.

***

Harry wasn’t that sixteen year old boy anymore. Nor was he the young man in his late teens who was on the cusp of conquering the entire world.

But some traits seemed to remain the same; his vibrant green eyes, the dimples set deeply in his cheeks whenever he laughed earnestly, or his curls that were the same shade of cocoa that Louis remembered fondly.

And yet, Louis had absolutely no idea who this man that stood a mere twenty paces away was today.

take my hand, wreck my plans by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

[Harry/Louis, Teen & Up, 38k, tumblr post]

Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him.

“Mr. H,” he whispers.

The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.”

“Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…”

“Dance?”

Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.”

Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.”

Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

Winter Light by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

[Liam/Zayn (Liam & Louis, Harry/Louis), Teen & Up, 58k, tumblr post]

“Do you think this place is dead?” he suddenly asked, his eyes focused on one of the two oaks, whose bark was grey and trunk cracked. 

“What do you mean?” Zayn inquired, joining him by the tree. 

“Well, it’s winter now, so obviously everything looks dead anyway,” Liam said. “But do you think come spring, this place might look like the way it looked before?” 

Zayn took his time to think about Liam’s question. “I think all things are salvageable,” he eventually answered. “Including this garden. You just have to try hard enough.”

After his mother’s death, Liam is sent to live at his estranged uncle’s manor in the North of England, where new friends, mysterious places and family secrets await him. A Secret Garden inspired Soulmate AU

Cake and Kiss by @loulovehome

[Harry/Louis, General, 2k, tumblr post]

The one where omega Harry didn't like cake and wants to throw up when his alpha kisses him.

Love After the End of the World by writing_practice / @mercurial-madhouse

[Harry/Louis, Explicit, 150k, tumblr post]

“Wait. Just so I’m clear in me fucking noggin,” Niall says. “An international worldwide takeover is well under way and the only thing standing between having hot showers and a second end of the world is us five fuckers?”

-----

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

Hometown by @allwaswell16

[Louis/Harry, Not Rated, 2k, tumblr post]

On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

Baby Blues by @kingsofeverything

[Louis/Harry, Explicit, 12K, tumblr post]

8 mpreg Harry snippets originally posted on Tumblr. Mostly smut ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But If This Ends by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense

[Harry/Louis, Explicit, 107k, tumblr post]

Harry’s life as a vampire is routine. He spends his years moving around from place to place, learning as much as he can, and falling in love whenever the universe sees fit. When he tries to move his casual relationship with Louis to something more, it all gets turned on its head. As they navigate confusing thoughts and complex emotions, Harry finds himself torn between the love he feels for Louis and everything he thought he knew.

Featuring pet names, love letters, secrets, meaningful friendships, and two insecure boys desperately in love.

Pretty in Pink by lovelarry / @chloehl10

[Louis/Harry, Explicit, 18k, tumblr post]

“Love? Can I come in?”

Harry sniffed and shook his head before he realised Louis couldn’t see him. “No. Go home, Lou. Please.”

“I’m not leaving,” the Omega insisted, his voice full of concern. “And I’m not judging either. Just… talk to me, Haz.”

Harry briefly considered changing or at least ripping everything off and greeting Louis in his boxers before he realised that might actually be worse, that Louis had seen him dressed up and there was no need to hide anymore. He meekly shuffled over to the door and pulled it open before he backed away, refusing to meet Louis’ eyes.

To the Omega’s credit, he walked straight over to Harry and wrapped his arms around him from behind, resting his cheek between Harry’s shoulder blades.

“This top feels nice. Soft. I see why you like it,” Louis said quietly from behind him.

*****

Alpha Harry loves to secretly dress up and be pretty. He loves his feminine side, even if it’s not typical of an Alpha. But when Omega Louis finds out, it might just the start of something even more beautiful for them both...

Plant New Seeds In The Melody by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers

[Louis/Harry, Explicit, 58k, tumblr post]

After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of.

Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening.

But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

We are the same, you run in my veins by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers

[Louis/Harry, General, 4k, tumblr post]

When the time for Louis to become the Alpha leader of his pack comes, he can’t rise to the occasion for not being yet bonded. A series of trips to neighbouring packs in search of his soulmate is fruitless until he meets one of the other packs’ Alpha heir.

Harry.

The world seems to stop turning for a second and then it shifts, clicking into its axis. All the distress and wrongness he felt until that very moment suddenly disappears. Louis is finally whole.

But two Alpha leaders from different tribes soulbonding is something unheard of before.

evergreen, evermore by docklands / @hershelsue​

[Louis/Harry, General, 2k, tumblr post]

The year is 1979. Their entire lives, Harry and Louis have lived in Chichester, home to the best watermelons in the world. An unruffled life in the country has always served their long term friendship well. It all shifts when Harry has to move away to a bigger city due to his mother’s job, albeit his love for his hometown and for Louis. It’s even harsher when the moving truck leaves on his birthday, of all days. When all seems lost, Louis ends up having to pull some strings to ease the pain in Harry’s heart.

When The High's Too High, and the Low's Too Low by DaysLikeMasquerades

[Louis/Harry, Mature, 22k+ (wip)]

Two perspectives of growing up neurodivergent

Some days Harry wondered if he would ever find a friend who could look past all the things he couldn't change. Someone who didn't care that he could spend hours talking about his latest fascination without calling him obsessed. Who didn't laugh when he couldn't stop his hands from expressing his emotions. Who didn't care that he was 13, but he'd start crying if he went into too many stores, because they were too bright, too loud, too smelly, and it was all just too overwhelming. Some days he thought someone like that just didn't exist.

Most nights Louis wondered if there would ever come a time when he didn't hate himself. When he would learn to control his emotions and the mood swings that seemed to take over everything and leave no room for himself. He wondered how he could live with himself when he only seemed to hurt the people he loved. His teachers thought he was a wonderful boy, but he knew the truth. Most nights he cried himself into exhaustion wondering how it was possible to feel so broken at only 15. He wanted to be happy, but he didn't know how and that scared him more than anything. Most nights he just hoped he could figure it out before it was too late.

Make You Never Wanna Leave (so Don’t) by @beelou​ / cherrylarry

[Louis/Harry, Explicit, 3k, tumblr post]

“You look hot in plaid.” “What?” “I said you look like a dad.” “No, you didn't.” “Yes, I certainly did, Harold. You have no proof.” -- Or, the one where Harry wears plaid.

a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface

[Harry/Niall, ​Not rated, 10k, tumblr post]

“Listen, my alpha and I broke up and it turns out that all of our friends were really his friends and I need someone to help me through–”

“No,” Harry practically shouts, the word bursting out of him unbidden. He cringes when he sees the shock on Niall’s face, his pale skin flushing lightly. “I’m sorry, but my answer has to be no. I don’t help omegas through heats. I’m really sorry, Liam knows that, so I don’t know why he would give you the idea–”

“It’s not heat, Harry,” Niall interrupts. “It’s depri.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

Touch deprivation makes a lot of sense now that Harry thinks about it. Niall seems generally unwell; he appears to be weak, his skin is pallid and his lips look chapped, and his breathing is ragged. He’s wearing a cozy-looking sweatshirt, but even over FaceTime, he kind of seems cold, hunched over with his arms wrapped around his body. Harry’s never been around an omega in depri as bad off as Niall looks; most of the time, there’s an alpha friend or family member who can help out with scenting and physical contact.

Oh.

[vagrantblvrd]

AU where Castle buys The Old Haunt and realizes a few months down the road one of the bartenders has a side job of Solving Crimes?

“I’m sorry, what was that, Castle?”

And Castle, okay, is like.

“I was surprised too, but if you don’t believe me, just ask him.”

In which the “him” in question is the guy waiting in an interrogation room because a couple of uniforms checking out reports of gunshots found him standing over the body and also Castle got a phone call and anyway.

“Huh.”

And then shenanigans in which Kevin Ryan sort of kind of works for Castle???

(“You totally do, I sign your checks, and also there was the whole...thing about new management back when I bought the place and you call me ‘Boss’ when I walk in and - “)

He also used to be a cop until Reasons and now tends bar and the things about crime solving on the side because friends and friends of friends and also random people have heard about him, and really, you know. It’s more of a hobby.

“A hobby.”

Kevin grins, all sunshine and flowers and Esposito is slowly, so slowly, losing his shit because Kevin Ryan is sweet, polite. The kind of guy everyone likes. Beckett likes him and they just found about about him an hour ago.

(But he’s a little shit to Esposito.)

“Yeah, I mean. Some people knit, I, uh. Do this?”

Like the man doesn’t know how he got into the whole solving crime by moonlight gig.

“Well, I mean. That’s a sometimes thing. Usually I’m tending bar at night.”

>:((((((((((((((((((((((((((

And on and on and maybe, idk, there’s a whole...werewolf thing in there too because you know me and werewolves, right?

Kevin had problems adjusting after being bitten on a case – “It’s a whole story, I wouldn’t want to bore you,” but he’s got a handle on it now, and anyway.

Kevin and his life of tending bar at The Old Haunt, Solving Crimes, and the whole being a Werewolf deal, and he’s like, it is what it is, you know? (Alternatively, “Life in the big city, never a dull moment!!1!” like Kevin hasn’t lived there all his life, and also what does that even mean, and is he trying to say the werewolf thing is just something that happens in New York? Is he???)

But also the thing where he’s having the best damn time fucking with Detective Esposito and also flirting and poor Esposito just doesn’t know what the hell is going on?

And then there’s the time they have to Kiss For Great Justice – or, okay, to avoid getting caught by some baddies and anyway, such a hardship, you know?

Plus, Kevin with his werewolf strength just manhandling Esposito – totally not something Esposito would like to experience again in a different setting – and anyway.

That was a thing that happened, and no, Castle, Esposito will not go into detail so just stop taking notes.

(Kevin off to the side, though? Thinking about it.)

And then, idk, some Thinking and Kevin gets a P.I. license – makes sense to do it since he’s got all these people coming to him for help and anyway, yes.

Montgomery is like – “Not only do we have Castle helping out on cases, but now there’s a P.I.?”

And Kevin’s like “Only sometimes, though?” like that makes it better, but he’s a damn good bartender and Montgomery’s like, maybe if I drink enough I’ll forget about all of this and also it will become someone else’s problem</i> because if ever there was a reason to drink it would be Beckett and her team and anyway, shenanigans.

Castle lets Kevin turn part of The Old Haunt’s basement into space for the P.I. gig – files and such. Boring paperwork.

Sometimes he meets with clients upstairs in the bar – before the place opens up for the night or whenever, and Castle is just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ about it because what mystery writer doesn’t love a good P.I. story?

Also, also, later in the Nikki Heat series a P.I. shows up who lives to ~torment Ochoa and make his life miserable and anyway?  (Kevin’s like :DDDDDDDDDDDD about it because of course he is.)

(Plus maybe there’s some charity cause around Halloween or whatever with a short story about a werewolf P.I. - come on, Elrod’s got the vampire P.I. in prohibition-era Chicago, why shouldn’t Castle have modern day werewolf P.I.?)

ANYWAY.

Yes.

Esposito is like >:(((((((((((((( whenever Kevin’s cases and theirs line up and Beckett sticks Kevin with him – “At least yours knows proper police procedure/protocol, Esposito!” and also “Do you really want to trade, Esposito?” because they love Castle, of course they do, and yet.

Doesn’t matter though, because Shenanigans still happen.

(And, okay. Kevin’s helpful and also saves his life a time or two – “I mean, I didn’t know we were keeping score?” and there are times it’s nice to have someone to talk to, like on stakeouts and such.)

Plus, it’s always kind of hilarious watching the Big, Tough Guys zero in on Kevin as the ~weak link and then running into the brick wall of his werewolf constitution?

And also Kevin and Esposito sparring together not long after they meet and Beckett keeps sticking the two of them together and Esposito is like, yeah, yeah, sure. Guy says he was in narcotics, mentioned doing a hefty stint undercover before everything went to hell, but just look at him! Definitely got bullied in school, you know?

So sparring and Kevin all “If you insist,” and Esposito being like “Wait, no, I - “ because Kevin’s smirking and he has a bad feeling about things, and also Esposito suddenly remembers how Kevin put that guy who charged him on the ground in nothing flat, didn’t even break a sweat doing it. Which. The guy in question was easily twice Kevin��s size and -

Anyway.

The sparring matches early on where Esposito learned Kevin can handle himself and also that cold showers are a lifesaver, y’know?

Also the thing with all the flirting and whatnot and at some point Esposito is like oh, no, he’s hot, but it’s a realization quickly followed by oh no, he wears sweater vests unironcially and however will he be able to reconcile the two?

And Kevin okay, standing there watching Esposito have these dual realizations – Esposito and his Night of Epiphanies brought on by too much to drink or a concussion and Kevin shows up after being drunk/concussion-dialed and anyway.

“Well, if I thought you’d remember this in the morning I’d have a suggestion that would take care of both those problems of yours, but since you are, what say you sleep it off/get that head checked.”

And then Kevin just being :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD the next day and Esposito has no idea why, but he’s rightfully distrustful of it, and anyway.

They figure it out in the end and all that good stuff.

(P.S. Castle gets Kevin a vest to wear when they’re going into Dangerous Situations that says P.I. or something along those lines? Kevin is like *eye-roll*, but not so secretly loves the thing because it makes Esposito *eye-roll* harder, and anyway, yes.)

[redloftwingfeathers]

I feel like talking about the shit Zelda not only had to put up with but also what she subconsciously summoned herself and you're going to sit and listen and maybe cry with me okay? Okay.

While I don't think that was very cash-money of 'Hylia' to make Zelda wait until she's reached true, unrelenting despair to finally find her light, it made me wonder how everything came into play that made her journey so painstakingly hard, and not just Hylia pulling fast ones from the clouds. (Trust me I wanted to blame the goddess so bad after that moving performance at the spring of power but wait!! there's more!)

Things I'm looking at are specifically Zelda's anxieties of wanting to be a scholar but having to throw herself to the dogs of religion to keep Rhoam happy, the HEAVY depression she carries with not just from the loss of her mother but also just constantly being berated by her father and feeling like she's not good enough for Hylia, the jealousy and anger she harbors towards Link in their beginnings and how it effects her growth.

All of these are things (coming from someone who is very mentally ill) are ingredients that distract Zelda from her goals, intentional or not.

Zelda has a classic case of "I wanna do This Thing (studying, traveling) but I have to do That Thing (religion, strict orders) instead and now the fun is sucked out of it and my mind is buzzing and now I don't know what to do girl (hylia) HELP"

What's even worse is despite her hand-picked maturity, she KNOWS what is right and what she needs to do (her level of self awareness is impeccable sometimes) but she is still just a child in the end, wanting to live her life without dictation, which causes frustration and anger and can lead to self-doubts.

Starting with the loss of her mother, Rhoam claims that Zelda did not cry at all during the ceremony, and that it proved to him he could still be a strong king with how unwavering his daughter was. And although that's shown as an "awe inspiring" moment, it shows Rhoam does not understand how the processing of grief registers differently amongst people, especially children. She may have not showed it when she was, what, 6? (Not every normal 6 year old understands the fragility of mortality) but you can definitely see it affects her later on as Zelda grows older. It may not be entirely visible at first, but the way they portray it in HWAoC (I know its not entirely canon but bare with me on this) she longs for her mother's advice and comfort when her pleas and ideas fall deaf on the king's ears. Her mother seemed to be a very wise and compassionate queen, where Rhoam is a wise and a very bite-the-bullet king.

When stakes are high he trusts what he thinks needs to be done, and he enforces Zelda to finish her training Because she is part of his plan to push back the calamity. He knows protocol, and there's no room for creative thinking when the land of Hyrule is in danger. (Disclaimer: I hate Rhoam but I can also try to see what Nintendo was doing. He's not intentionally mean, he's an assertive dad that wants to see his daughter succeed (and also hella depressed) but he's really fucking bad at it and comes off as a dickhead. He is the embodiment of a boomer that does things the old fashioned way to get things done).

But all of this pressure he is putting on her, taking away things that make her happy so they don't distract her from her duty, shooting down her ideas because he wouldn't know how to even approach it from his standpoint, it really does a number on Zelda and really births her insecurities.

No matter how hard she prays and dedicates herself to Hylia, it doesn't work. Her mind is distracted, filled with fear and very little hope that the magic isn't Working. What even kicks me in the jaw more is that she's putting all of her effort into these prayers, and it's not even her wish she's making. It's Rhoam's wish. Her Ancestral Family's wish. That's why it hasn't sparked. She's praying on the behalf of her father and ancestors and not herself because she firmly believes there's other ways to settle the score. Zelda knows the importance of her role but its just not clicking when someone else is forcing you to do it. It just doesn't work like that.

Moving onto her liaison with Link, she is, well, in the beginning very irritated with him. Even a little bit after being chosen by Fi. But I don't think she MEANS to be angry at Link, he didn't do anything wrong in all honesty. She shouldn't take out her anger on him, but she's jealous, and he exists...so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When Link is suddenly chosen by the sword at a drop of a hat?? Yeah she's relieved, but there's also undertones of resentment. All of her Champions are here at the ready and she's still trying to figure out what shoe goes on first. She is the goddamn Princess of Hyrule, one who carries the blood of Hylia in her veins, and this random tiny knight who, mind you, fought tooth and nail to be her escort ends up finding his role before her? She is riding the struggle mule up Mount Lanayru (and I don't really blame her). And when she's exploring the shrines?? She makes it very clear to him she can work independently and does not need an escort, which although understood (freedom is a peace everyone strives for) she is careless regardless of her careful planning and efforts. She's a Princess, wandering Hyrule unarmed (and without her powers) with a horse as her only mode of transportation. You won't see yourself as a target even if they're pinned on your back, and with her determination to utilize these mysterious shrines as more Sheikah tech is being discovered is making her blind in remembering where she's placed in social status. It's dangerous, and I'm glad Link is there to see what she fails to see.

That's another thing too. As they progress and strengthen their friendship, Zelda sees Link as a mirror to question what her role really means. She uses him as guidance to help understand her situation, asking him "If you were told your whole life This is what you're meant to do, to take up your family's legacy...but one day realize this isn't what you want, would you still take the path you've been told to take?" In this case I think it's safe to say this is what Link knew he wanted. He loves being an aid to those in need, and becoming a knight despite following his father's path, this felt like his true calling. The spirit of the hero is VERY strong in his soul, and when he sees someone in need of help [Zelda] he's going to aid them whether they want it or not.

But Zelda still feels so lost, she feels so disconnected from her ancestors, as the previous daughters in the royal families were Given their powers at birth and meant to be awakened when the time has come. They were all given the gift of premonition, to be a medium for Hylia and a messenger of the gods, and overall able to keep Ganon away from the world no matter how many times he crawls back from the depths of hell. Being told your whole life you're meant to be like your ancestors, but not being able to fulfill any of those roles? It makes the past seem like one giant fairy tale when in you're in BotW Zelda's shoes.

No voices, no premonitions, no secret awakenings...Nothing.

At this moment, I finally understood why Urbosa said to Revali about Link. She said he is a constant reminder of Zelda's own failures. Link found his calling by following his instinct. Zelda has yet to figure out what she really wants, and is clouded by judgements not only from her father and people, but from herself too. With every passing day she is undergoing a meltdown, questioning if she is even meant to be apart of this whole plan anymore, probably something among the lines of "Was it meant to be someone else? I'm the only daughter, and yet I can't even do my one job." She lost everyone and everything, she's frightened, it feels like she's lost her faith in the gods, or even dare say, the gods lost faith in her.

But through absolute despair when Link just about gives his life for her protection, that's when it all clicked. She found her power and strength through Link, who was the one that, all this time, taught her about what she needed to do to awaken her powers without even directly telling her. Every conversation she had with him, she saw herself in Link. She saw all the effort he gave into becoming a royal knight, the unwavering determination in his eyes with every Lynel he slew, a never ending supply of optimism and hope no matter how high the stakes were. And yet he was also Free. He followed his path blindly, not even knowing where he'd end up, as long as he knew he was

able to protect those in need. And she wanted that.

He was her mirror, and Zelda managed to awaken herself when that mirror cracked.

Living the burden of being part of a prophecy and saying you're ready for anything, is very reckless. Understanding the heaviness that comes with sacrifice is not truly understood until it starts happening to you.

Zelda found her wish, her independence through Link. Her mind is finally clear and she understands what her role means in all of this.

She is meant to protect, to save, to understand more than just personal loss.

Zelda couldn't stand by idly anymore after everyone told her to do something else and let others handle the job. That was the last straw when Link stood in front of her, shield weak but at the ready when that guardian approached. She saw the desperation and said NO, which finally broke her seal. She chose to sacrifice herself, igniting her powers just as Hylia did for her people. She chose to save her last, literally dying hope, because Ganon cannot be fought alone.

He was the connection, the literal link, she needed to awaken her powers. And I just find that so fucking great.

Anyways thanks for coming to my TED talk I've been typing this for like 4 hours now

[the-darklings]

who is jean?

(drags out a rusty chair) (sits)

buckle up, gang. we're about to do French Bastard Baguette 101

basics first.

name: Jean Laurent

where does he hail from: French baguette 

what does he look like:

whose house should you egg when Jean inevitably hurts your feelings: @la-gattara-art

what’s he like?  

(let me preface everything by saying that Jean’s personality, looks, and past were not created by me; he was originally constructed by Chan (NPFH co-creator and my very segssy friend tagged above) and I simply went free real estate ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

okay, so:

bastard™. most call him “the spider” - both as a warning and as a curse. will sell you to satan for one cornchip. will also destroy you and your life if you get in his way : ) ruthless. manipulative. terrifyingly good at people and can charm pretty much anyone. has dirt on everyone and is brilliant at sniffing out weaknesses. is he lying? is he being honest? who knows? certainly not me. smoker. the living embodiment of the phrase “who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things”. has a heart deep, deep, deep down but good luck finding it. seductive. to be frank, the man fucks - that’s it, no fancy words. he knows what’s good and how to get it so his bed is warm most nights, no emotional connections though. likes sketching into his pocketbook : ) mostly birds/still life/architecture. speaking of which, admires architecture openly, and has a taste for art/historical things as well. mind sharper than a knife, tongue even more so 🤪 uses his accent on purpose as well. has a massive sweet tooth. is haunted by past actions. knows the price for “rebirth”. still has night terrors occasionally. ambitious for days. has an expensive taste because he knows the value of such things. enjoys old french songs. is an excellent dancer and is very happy to show just how good 😌 if he so much as sniffs out that someone is getting too comfortable beside him or is developing some sort of attachment to him, removes said attachment with surgical precision and weaponises everything he knows. can be downright vicious in that regard. prefers using words and seductions as oppose to fistfights but can hold his own if needs be. prefers guns - nice and quick. you will not know where his loyalties are until the last second. has a giddy, near boyish appreciation for sports cars but lacks technical knowledge when it comes to them, so don’t expect him to be changing oil any time soon. don’t bother trying to embarrass him, either - you can’t. he has no shame, especially if it comes to the bedroom. has a wicked sense of humour and enjoys few things more than a verbal challenge. enjoys challenges in general. if it's dangerous, he wants to poke it and see just how dangerous. he also works for someone else. will lay it all on the line for someone else but only once.  

so what’s his role and why is he important? 

jean is one of the main, catalyst characters in npfh (no place for heroes) an original universe where we hope to create an interactive modern-day, criminal world in "novel" form. where you, as a reader, play a key role and your decisions affect the story. the first prequel (like jeara's backstory) will be in normal novel format. formation of the pit of vipers aka where elites, lucien, amongst other new OCs will appear will follow that. so the running order is: fwns, tpov, npfh.

after COA gets concluded, I will be full-time working on this world. lowkey already am but that's because creativity is flowing and who am I to say no? so jean meets clara beginning of fwns (fire with no smoke - first prequel title) and for those of you who don't know clara is oc!v from my JW series Children of Ares. you will not have needed to read that story to enjoy this work because everything about JW is being removed and clara's backstory is going to be introduced anew and might be familiar to those of you who have read Gasoline Girl because it was wholly original. camorra is also staying. short version: something has happened to clara a year ago; a terrible, awful sort of trauma that has left her near crippled with the inability to deal with it (some may know what I'm referring to and it's that but x 10 worse :D). however in a world as cutthroat as npfh no falters are allowed. so teetering-at-the-edge-of-oblivion assassin meets master information gatherer because he hires her for a few "removal jobs" ("oh, you're a poisoner? sneaky, sexy, I love it.") because he's feeling out new york city for his boss and gathering information on X & Y. one thing leads to another, and those two end up needing to work together when they accidentally uncover a plan to paint streets of NY red and overthrow the old order. big time ("guess I have no choice but to trust and rely on you now because we're both being hunted,,, damn fine, just don't fall in love with me." 🙄 )

essentially to sum this story up I will say:

slowburn. reluctant partners in crime. banter. angst central. mystery. high stakes. dark. power couple when they're not trying to verbally end one another. sexual tension so thick most knives will not cut it. bi main character. mutual emotional baggage aha <3 it's mature (and yes that means there will be smut but it's been 84 years by the time we get there). at its core though, it's very much a story about healing & remembering what it is to be alive & not just existing in a role that's expected of you, nor does your past define you.

basically:

reasons to like Jean: Clara

reasons to dislike Jean: Clara

but,,, Jeara? 

yes ♥️

(I don’t know how to make gifs so enjoy potato quality <3)

here's fwns board for more vibes/jean aes too (x)

and here's my horniest playlist for them (x)

and finally, jean in memes, courtesy of coa discord:

and my personal fave

thus concludes french bastard baguette 101. have a good day and eat baguettes xoxo

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɴᴏᴛ | ᴋᴀɪ ᴄʜɪꜱᴀᴋɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛ

Y’all thought it was oVER? lolol Blame Admin T--- I asked her who I should write for BNHA and she said this SO ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ As always, thank you all so much for the love and support for this blog~! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did with writing it~!

I do apologize if I don’t capture his character the best ;;” 

I won’t lie, I was listening to Might U as I was writing this.

» » Admin Ko

Tedious. At least, that’s what it should’ve been. Yet instead of feeling the normal bouts of irritation at the lack of control he had over the situation at hand, he felt...unnerved. The imaginary seed that was implanted in his stomach all those months ago seemed to only gain in mass.

“...Who are you?”

He shouldn’t have allowed himself to grow these...feelings. Not only did he feel contaminated and utterly sick to his stomach, but the strange ache in his chest did nothing to help soothe his frazzled nerves as those curious yet dim (e/c) hues peered into his sorrowful golden ones.

“...My name is Chisaki Kai...”

“Oh! Hello Chisaki.”

A bout of coughing and another grimace as the pain in his chest amplified tenfold at the horrifying sound. It disgusted him. It truly did, yet instead of feeling the need to get away, he wanted to get closer to her. To comfort her-- hell to shake some common sense into her. Even if it meant he would break out, he just had to do something.

“I...apologize if this seems rude...”

“What is it?”

“...what happened to your arms?”

“...I lost them because I was careless. This...I suppose, is my punishment.”

Her curious stare continued to wash over him as he felt the prickle of goosebumps rise on his shoulders. Turning away, he kept his gaze on the vacant wall of the hospital ward. This was torturous. She was torturous. 

Yet still she managed to worm her way into his heart, and he didn’t know whether or not if he wanted to ask for cardiac surgery or to embrace this newfound emotion.

All he really knew was that if he had only been smarter-- hell maybe even faster at coming up with the quirk-destroying drug he could’ve prevented this. He could’ve gotten rid of the parasite that lurked in her veins.

➽───────────────❥

6 Months Ago

“Patient name: (y/n) (l/n). Quirk: Amnesiac.”

Trudging down the corridor, the man once known as Overhaul, walked in step alongside his parole officer / attending doctor. It hadn’t been too long since his arrest and...amputation. In all honesty, he wondered why he was being granted this rare privilege. 

An assistant for a patient. That’s all they had told him. Of course Kai had to scoff. How on earth was he supposed to help? With the lack of usable limbs and knowledge limited to that of basic medical needs he didn’t really find a real necessity in this patient’s apparent ‘recovery’.

“...Amnesiac?”

“As it’s name implies, it’s a quirk that deals the user amnesia--- yet in our patient’s case it not only forces her to lose her memories, but practically breaks down her body’s physical state.”

“...In simpler terms?”

“In short every time she loses her memory her body deteriorates along with it. It’s as if her body is, in a sense...rewinding itself forward to make up for the fact that she lost those memories.”

A grimace. If he could, he would’ve spat out that he had been right in his assumption that quirks were just an infestation to the world, this patient clearly being a poor victim of it.

“...And what is my purpose of ‘assisting’ you?”

“As far as I’m aware, you’re pretty damn heartless and selfish. So it should be easy for you to not catch feelings for her whilst being a constant in her life right?”

“A...constant.”

“Yeah, just someone who she sees everyday until well...”

“She passes.”

“I mean...yeah. Damn you really are heartless.”

“Tch. This is a waste of my time is what this is.”

“Hey, you’re helping me whether you want to or not man. It’s just a visit everyday for like, an hour or two at most.”

Another grimace was given as Kai felt a shiver run down his spine. Despite the place he would be in was a hospital, it still brought the ex-yakuza boss a sense of dread. Especially with the amount of infested bodies that littered the place.

“...how long?”

“Holy shit dude, I get that you don’t want to do this but seriously---”

“How long until she loses her memory you dumbass.”

“..Oh. Well, from what we gather they can last from a day, to a couple of months. Though the longer she stays in a...well, let’s call it a session, the more it harms her body.”

“So say she forgets me tomorrow.”

“Then her body moves forward a day.”

“....After a month?”

“She lurches forward a month.”

“Thus leading to a quick progression in her deteriorating health.”

“...Exactly.”

It was, to say the least, unsettling to hear. Never had he heard of such a sickening twist for a quirk. No matter, the deal was simple. If he was lucky, this would last a year-- as fucked up as it sounded, the sooner she passed the less she would suffer in the long run.

As they neared the door, the clear unease that settled on his features was one that his parole doctor could see from a mile away. 

“Chill dude, it’ll be fine.”

With that, the door cracked open, and there seated quietly whilst reading a book was a woman. By any standards she was normal, average, easy on the eyes with a slight fae-like feel. Though really it was most likely the early evening glow that cascaded into her room the moment they entered. 

All Kai really knew was that it was the moment when gold met glittering (e/c) hues that a seed lodged it’s way into his stomach.

➽───────────────❥

It had started off easy-- well in Kai’s opinion it had. Every other day seemed to be a new start to the ritual that was re-introducing himself to her and making small talk. 

In all honesty, he wouldn’t admit it, but the simplicity of being able to have a normal conversation with someone brought a sense of peace in him. Of course this didn’t mean his usual snark and calculating ways-- or so he says.

For Kai, this change in routine was oddly enough, welcomed. With everything he had gone and the collogues he had imprisoned god knows where, the opportunity to engage in small talk was to say the least, enlightening. It had surprised him. As someone who sought out tactical moves in reading his opponents, he found himself at ease with the simplicity of where he was at.

Granted it was albeit dull in comparison to the interrogations he goes through, it was still a part of his routine that he refused to change. Not when he’s been so invested in it.

That changes when the day he enters her room to find that instead of having to reintroduce himself to her, she remembers him. She flashes him a gentle smile with an endearing, “How are you?” and that in itself has the former yakuza leader lose his breath as he can only comically blink at her before forcing himself to adjust to this strange change.

No later did another change occur that brought a wave of new emotions in him. She had touched him. A caress to his cheek, and unsurprisingly in that moment he broke out in hives. His sight blurring as panic shot through his system at the abundance of thoughts that struck his head as the irritation from the hives had him reeling away from her.

He didn’t see her distressed face. Nor did he see the tears that streamed down her cheeks as she desperately sought out someone to help him. Instead, he awoke to his room laying down with his hives treated. 

He felt violated. Disgusted, yet still. Even with that he found himself at her door a week later. Prepared to start a new with her and a possible replay of what had happened a week prior. Instead, he found her bowed deeply at the waist as she tightly clutched at the thin fabric of her hospital gown.

“I’m so sorry Chisaki! I didn’t know...I deeply apologize for what had happened!”

“...You...remembered?”

“Of course! You’re someone I can never forget.”

The pit in his stomach grew tenfold as his feet began to walk towards the awaiting lounge chair. Golden hues met truthful (e/c) ones as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat before once again bowing.

“I really am sorry...I shouldn’t have reached out to you like that...”

“...just be more aware next time.”

And like that, the pit in his stomach continued to grow. With each passing day she retained her memories, the more the pit swelled in size, and the more she began to work her way into his heart.

➽───────────────❥

Present Day

He didn’t know why he felt an overwhelming pressure in his gut. The lack of food he ate was odd enough, but to actively avoid something out of his daily routine? It was unheard of. He even made that stupid request to ask his parole doctor to grab (y/n) that stupid drink she liked. 

Mentally shaking his head, Kai lightly tapped his shoe against the door before sliding it open. 

The sight bestowed upon him though was one that could’ve brought him to his knees as the pang in his chest seemed to duly ache as he dragged his feet into the room.

“...(y/n)?”

It was quiet. The warm beams of the spring sun settled on her pale features as dim (e/c) orbs glimmered at the sight of him. He should’ve seen this coming. Especially after she had remembered him the day it set everything out of pattern. Instead, he turned a blind eye. Out of pure ignorance? He wasn’t remotely sure anymore. All he knew was that she shouldn’t be like this.

She should be her stupid lively self, cracking jokes and sharing her stupid stories with him. Not laying there like a corpse.

“Ah...Chi-- Kai, sorry you caught me waking up from a nap. I’m sorry I don’t look more presentable...”

“Nonsense. Now, tell me what you’ve done today.”

“Straight to the point huh? Sometimes I wonder how you’d ever date anyone.”

Though weak, the teasing tone she held in her voice was one that added more weight to his chest as he seated himself in what she declared the ‘(y/n)’s best friend’s chair’. A stupid name if you asked him, but he wouldn’t tell her that.

And like that, she spoke of her day, simple tasks and duties she’s done during her stay at the hospital while Kai listened to her as the best friend she claimed he was. 

As for the new name basis, Kai couldn’t tell anyone when it picked up. All he knew was that it didn’t piss him off as much as it should’ve.

As the time neared for him to leave, she stopped him. A look of hesitance on her face as irritation seemed to grow on his own.

“What is it?”

“....Can I hold your face?”

“What?!”

“With gloves on!”

The statement caught him by surprise. Already he felt the disgusting voices in the back of his head whisper at him yet instead of acting on those voices he found himself mutely staring at her as she fumbled over her words.

All he could really pick out was the light blush that was on her cheeks. The spark of color that brought his feet towards her bedside as she stared up at him with shock in those (e/c) eyes. 

“Tch. What are you waiting for?”

Caught off guard, she could only stare at him for a moment before giddily shifting herself to get off the bed. A noise of distaste left his throat at her motion as she merely rolled her eyes and shushed him as she went to fervently clean her hands before snapping on the gloves.

Yet as she did this he couldn’t help but feel the ache in his chest grow even more at the sight of her frail hands and the subtle appearance of a bruise around her wrist at her careless motion of snapping the gloves on. This was immediately forgone as she walked up to him, mindful to keep a distance before she hesitantly held her hands out in a flower cup motion.

At first, Kai had no idea what she was doing, but as he grew to analyze the situation-- as well as remember the odd videos and photos she decided to show him as she sought a sort of relationship herself-- he carefully put his chin into her hands. The hesitancy of her fingers brushing his cheeks pulled a new sort of fondness in his chest as he finally relaxed his cheek against her shy hand.

Golden eyes peered deeply into glimmering (e/c) as he watched her face light up with the most color he had see on her that day. Satisfied, he waited until she finally let go.

“...Thank you, Kai.”

“No problem.”

“No really...thank you...for everything.”

Unease quickly overtook the fondness in his heart as he straightened himself out. Confusion was clearly matted onto his features as he stared down at her.

“...Why are you saying that?”

“What? I can’t say what I want for once? You let me all the time so just let me say this too!”

Finding the whole situation uncomfortable, Kai made his way to the door once more. Though before he left he motioned with his head for her to get back into bed. In response, he got her usual snark as she stuck her tongue out before carefully getting back into bed.

“If you’re on good behavior tomorrow, I’ll have your doctor bring you that drink of yours.”

The light in her eyes was enough to satisfy him and his worries as she nodded quickly before giving him a mock salute as she excitedly got herself comfy in the bed.

“Alright, you promised Kai~!”

➽───────────────❥

“Who are you?”

It should’ve have hurt him as much as it did, but after 6 fucking months. 6 months of her being a daily part of his life where she did not forget him for a single moment came crashing down. The tremble that clutched tightly to his words as he re-introduced himself went unnoticed as he slowly made his way towards the lounge chair that was once considered to be (y/n)’s best friend’s chair. 

“...My name is Chisaki Kai.”

“Oh! Hello Chisaki.”

He could tell she was straining with keeping up a happy front. Her appearance was frail. So delicate that he feared anyone who touched her would be the cause of her disappearing before his eyes. The drink he had requested for her sat innocently on the bedside table as she gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s going to be okay...”

“...what?”

“You look...distressed, I wanted to just reassure you things will be okay.”

No they won’t. He wanted to scream it at her, that the rasp in her voice was punching holes into his gut. That the frail breathing she had was worse than his quirk being taken away from him.

And in that moment, they stayed in silence. Merely watching one another with mixed emotions before he broke back into the routine he once thought would be meaningless.

“...What did you do today?”

Her words, though slow, told him of a peaceful day. One with little adventures and many simple moments that he’s come to slowly appreciate in his own life. 

Though as the hour of his leave came, he found it hard to get up from the chair. His feet staying practically cemented to the floor as he watched her peer out the window as the warm rays of the early evening sun cascaded over her. Much like it had that day he first saw her.

Forcefully pushing himself up from the chair, he made his way towards the door. Yet each step he took towards it the more the aching feeling in his chest grew as the fear of his last day in that room came to it’s due date.

“...Kai? Can you turn around for me...just once?”

The words caught him completely off guard as he turned to face her. Those eyes no longer were filed with guarded walls. Instead he was met with the face of (y/n). The woman he came to slowly adore within the past 6 months.

He didn’t even think. Instead he surged forward, practically bruising his legs at the force he decided to stop himself with. Though he didn’t care. The bruises be damned, she remembered him. 

“...Can I hold your face? One more time? I promise I won’t ask again. I’ll even wear gloves!”

“...No need.”

The aching in his chest grew tenfold as he found it hard to speak. The overwhelming emotions that sat in his chest were ready to burst out of him. Though he wasn’t sure how. Instead he bent down slightly, finding her confused face even more endearing before he rolled his eyes.

“Well?”

“B-But...the hives---”

“I don’t care. Hurry the fuck up.”

Like that, the confusion vanished as she gently put her hands together in that familiar flower cup motion. Worry was clearly evident in her eyes as she looked at him, but before she could even question again he placed his chin into her awaiting hands. Already the prickly sensation of the hives began to pool as he could feel them form across his skin.

“K-Kai--”

“It’s fine. Shut up. You said you won’t ask again.”

“T-That’s true...”

“Tch. You can make it up to me by getting better so I can show you the world.”

“...when you’re not in prison anymore, right?”

“Right...”

It was hard to speak now. The lump that once was in his stomach had traveled to his throat as he watched her warm (e/c) glisten with unshed tears as she gently caressed his cheeks, ever so mindful of his hives as she tried to at least move her hands. Instead, the male pressed himself further into her touch as the tears began to fall. If anyone noticed the strain in his voice, they didn’t mention it.

“...If you’re gonna be greedy that do what you’ve been wanting to do you romantic obsessed moron.”

With that, she shifted forward before pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead as the tears came down harder. The lump in his throat making it almost unbearable to talk.

“...Thank you Kai...thank you so much for these six months...”

“.....”

“Don’t forget me...okay?”

“Idiot...as if I could even forget the one dumbass that made me breakout after my imprisonment.”

A weak laugh was given as she finally pulled away. With her eyes rimmed red, she shifted to make a call for a nurse, though that was cut short as Kai surprisingly climbed into her bed. No words were exchanged as she reluctantly shifted herself down into the bed-- though it did take time, she managed to curl herself in a way where she left distance between them. 

“...aren’t you supposed to go?”

Featherlike and faint, he strained to hear her as he shifted himself down to properly face her as he melted in her (e/c) gaze. The slow dimming of life in her eyes was enough to tell him that it was time. However, he refused to believe it. If anything he’d find her awake the next day with that silly smile on her face. Yet even as he thought about this, the tears that he once thought were impossible for him, slowly began to stream down his cheeks as he nestled himself closer to her.

“....one day won’t kill them.”

“...mmm...”

“....go to sleep angel, I’ll be right here...”

“...and...you’ll be next to me?”

“...always.”

➽───────────────❥

Patient Name: (y/n) (l/n) Chisaki Quirk: Amnesiac 

Time of Death: 6:05PM

[kayluh1915]

I Miss You

Pairing(s): Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Female Reader

Words: 1,645

Warnings: Implied PTSD, mentioned former drug addiction, 18+ ONLY!

You and Frankie have a much-needed chat... and some unanticipated (but welcomed) alone time.

(Gif credit: @uuuhshiny )

I have no excuse for this. I'm fuckin' weak for Frankie and this is just my proof. 👀

I would apologize for my filth, but I'm not really that sorry. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

As always, comments are welcomed and encouraged.

You can also follow me on Twitter if you'd like. My life is boring, but I try.

Enjoy, my fellow whores!

My Masterlist

Read on AO3

Frankie had been in his shed all afternoon.

Extra warnings: Oral sex (F receiving), rough (protected) sex, hair pulling, light sub/dom, and creampie.

____________________

He hadn’t quite been the same since returning from his spontaneous trip down to South America, burying himself in a multitude of projects ranging from small builds all the way up to fixing something on the car that really didn’t need to be fixed.

You didn’t complain. You’d rather him cope with that then his previous methods, but he’d still end up isolating himself for long periods of time, missing meals and countless hours of sleep.

He was laying under the car again when you took him his dinner that evening, only able to see his legs sticking out of the side as you heard him drop one of his wrenches.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, both sudden noises slightly startling you enough to emit a quiet yelp of surprise. Frankie heard you and rolled out from underneath the car, his eyes wide with concern. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” You sat his dinner down on his workbench and propped your back up against it, crossing your arms as you watched him stand up and start cleaning his hands with an old wash cloth. “What’s wrong with the car this time?” Frankie turned towards the battered sedan before answering.

“The oil needed changed and something was up with the axel. Was making some kind of weird noise.” You knew that the oil didn’t need to be changed and that the axel’s whirring was extremely mild, but tinkering helped him cope so you didn’t say anything. “What’d you make for dinner?”

“Chicken casserole. Didn’t really turn out the way I wanted it.”

“Anything you make is delicious, baby.” He commented, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.” This is when you’d usually go back inside and let him have his space, but tonight you couldn’t find the strength to move. Frankie would always come in afterwards with his clean plate and help you with whatever you needed in the house, but you missed him.

You missed the evenings where you would sit and chat about whatever was on your mind, the nonsense you’d speak together and the laughter you shared. You missed cuddling up with him on the couch, letting him play with your hair as one of you complained about the “horrible” movie the other had picked. You missed going to bed at the same time, Frankie’s arms snaking around your waist as he kissed you sweetly.

Most of all, you missed him .

The nights when his innocent kisses would turn passionate, your tongues swirling around one another as his strong hands touched you exactly where you liked.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Frankie asked while chewing his food, bringing you back to the present with a light jolt.

“Yeah, honey. I’m fine… just thinking.” He swallowed the bite he had in his mouth, holding another forkful up.

“About what?” He asked before taking another bite. Your heart spoke before your brain could.

“How much I miss you…” Frankie stopped chewing, his dark eyes quickly glancing over to look at you. You wanted to scold yourself for what you had said. You understood that Frankie was going through a lot mentally and have tried to be supportive, but it was taking its toll.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until a choked sob tore it’s way past your trembling lips.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Frankie cooed, setting his fork down and pulling you into his arms. You laid your head on his shoulder, gripping the back of his shirt tightly as you cried into his neck. Frankie began to gently sway you, kissing the top of your head every now and again.

“I-I’m sorry, Frankie. I know you need me… to be strong and support you but-” You paused for a moment when you sobbed again. “Going to bed without you is so ha-ard.” You began to cry heavier at the confession, Frankie gently brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Shhh… I know baby, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Please do-don’t feel guilty. I know yo-you’re trying to cope, bu-”

“Shhh.” He interrupted you. “Don’t you apologize for anything, baby. I know I’ve been distant lately after what happened, but you have been wonderful. Cooking me dinner every night and letting me have my space to recoup after all of that? Not a lot of women would do that.”

You didn’t say anything else, allowing his soothing voice to comfort you.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been spending a lot of time with you recently. I’ve been thinking about things a lot and didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. I promise, from today on, I’ll start coming in earlier, start eating dinner with you like we used to and even help you cook if you want.”

You wiped your nose with your sleeve, nodding eagerly on his chest. Frankie pulled away from you and held your face in his warm palms, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “I love you, my little dolphin.” He whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. You smiled at the pet name, the inside joke you haven’t shared in months bringing some joy back.

“There’s that smile.” He giggled, leaning back down to kiss you properly. At first it had only been a peck, but you were so hungry for him that you pulled him right back in. You threw your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, Frankie not denying you even for a second.

His hands left your face and moved down to your waist, pulling you close with a low hum of approval. Your hands raked through his curls, knocking his cap off so you could grip his dark locks to hear those delicious groans fall from his throat.

“Please…” You whined, barley pulling yourself away from him. “Touch me… plea-.” Frankie’s hands flew to your hips, lifting you up to sit you atop his work bench. He instantly yanked your leggings off, taking your underwear with them and leaving you naked from the waist down… minus your strawberry socks.

He knelt down to his knees without another word, spreading your legs open and instantly pressing his face into your cunt. He had moved so fast that it took you a moment to process what was going on, tingles erupting from your clit, down your legs and all the way to your toes.

It hadn’t been that long since you’d been touched, but they always say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. The same must be true for your pussy as well.

“Ohhh…” You breathed, his tongue making you lightheaded. “F-Fuck…”

Frankie hummed, the vibrations only increasing your pleasure as he looked up at you. You were already so incredibly close, the tingling in your clit rapidly growing in intensity until… he pulled away. You whined quietly, your pussy aching with need.

“Down.” He said simply as he undid his pants. You jumped down from the workbench, completely unprepared for him to spin you around and roughly bend you over the table. He pinned you down with his left hand on your lower back, his right hand rubbing his cock along your drenched folds before pushing in completely in one thrust.

You felt like you had been sat on fire, the heat spreading over your body as he fucked you rough. You heard a few things fall to the floor as the table began hitting the side of his shed with his thrusts, but both of you were already too far gone to care about his tools.

“Fuck, baby girl.” He growled, his hands tightly gripping your hips. “So fucking’ wet for me.” You felt like you couldn’t breathe, his cock hitting the perfect spot every time. You placed your hands on the table and rose up slightly, one of Frankie’s hands instantly leaving your hip to push you back down to the table.

“Don’t fucking move.” You moaned at how rough he was being, your pussy throbbing with an incoming orgasm. Keeping you pinned to the table, he tangled his fingers into your hair and pulled it, the painful pleasure and one last perfect thrust of his cock doing the job and sending you over the edge.

Your cunt fluttered around his cock, the waves of absolute pleasure feeling more intense than they had in a while. Frankie never slowed down.

“Y-Yeah… take it.” He growled. “Being such a good girl for me, baby… cumming all over my cock. You think- fuck - you think you deserve your reward?”

“Yes, please! Give it to me! I’ve been such a good girl! I deserve it! Ple-” He tugged harder on your hair, a whine interrupting your pleas.

“Good girl, begging for your reward. M’gonna fill you up so good.”

“Yes! Frankie, please! Give it to me! Give me your cu-uhhh… uhhh… ahhhhhh!” You exclaimed, cumming on his cock for a second time without warning. It was also the end for Frankie.

“Fuck, baby!” He halted his thrusts, growling low and loud and he shot his cum into your pulsing cunt. The warmth expanding in your abdomen prolonged your orgasm, your legs shaking and buckling out from under you. Frankie held onto you tight, pulling you up to stand as he placed kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder, his breathing still coming out in heavy puffs over your skin.

"Did I hurt you, sweetheart?" He asks, gently easing the grip in your hair.

"God no." You replied, still trying to catch your breath. "You-you have no idea how much I've missed that." Frankie eased himself out of you, a mixture of his and your own cum dripping out of your pussy. Frankie hummed at the sight, lightly gripping your ass cheek to spread you open to get a better view.

"I think I got a pretty good idea."

[exosmutfactory]

Reckless Abandon

— Pairing: You & Baekhyun

— Genre/AU: smut,

— Word Count: 2.3k

— Rating: 18+ (M)

— [ Contains: ;) choking/breath play, sub/dom themes, etc. ]

❥ I’m blaming this song for everything, I was just minding my own business and here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

❥ ❥ ps: angry sex doesn’t fix everything - it is fun though

ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥

"You think you're so fucking cute."

"Shut the hell up, B." You sigh, roughly letting down your hair from its extravagant up-do. The array of pins and accessories clattering to the white surface of your vanity.

"No." His shake of head is clear in the view of the mirror,  black hair ruffled and broad shoulders hastily coming out of his black blazer; jaw visibly clenched. "No, I won't."

You sigh through your nose, searching for a makeup wipe, "You're so annoying."

"And my oh-so-beloved girlfriend likes to strip in front of everyone."

Red colors your damp cheeks as you recall the wardrobe malfunction you had earlier on in the night. One misplaced step on the trail on your floor length dress from a passerby and the room full of elegantly dressed women and men alike got a bigger glimpse at your physique than either of you could appreciate. Did he think you did that shit on purpose!? Who's the one that has to live with more regret? Who had to duck out of the room at the risk of crying in embarrassment?

"You're the one who fucking picked the dress." Your voice has lowered to that dangerously deep tone of bubbling anger as you step out of the long garment, turning around only to be met with his back. Vocal chords straining painfully despite the calm volume because of the previous screaming match you couldn't help yourself from partaking in on the way home. You should stop, but you're seeing too much red to give a damn.

"Not for you to be a slut in front of my associates." He chuckles humorlessly, tugging off the loose tie around his neck; the words falling nonchalantly off of his lips. You aren't seeing red at this point, you're seeing murder, and his name is on the god damn casket.

"What did you just call me?" Your matching chuckle is anything but a good sign, palms aching from the strength you’re using to clench your fists; holding yourself back from touching him. Who knows what will happen then, you rarely reach this level of rage towards the man of your endless affection.

He doesn’t even move, frozen as if just coming to terms with what came out of his mouth. His lack of response spurs you on to cross the room with impatient strides, tugging his shoulder back. "I'm fucking talk-"

You wince as your back collides with the wall, glaring up into equally furious eyes with your narrowed ones, "Get off of me, Byun."

His lips quirk up, it's more of a snarl than a smile as he crowds your space. "Or what?" He muses, stepping forward just enough to cage your body fully against the wall. The way his hand holds your own above your head and the all too familiar bulge pressing into your stomach falters your words; train of thought slipping away at the new look swirling in his dark brown eyes.

"Or…" You utter, gaze not straying away from his own. "I'll fucking kick you-"

He swiftly grabs your leg before you can do any damage, wrapping your thigh around his waist before slamming his hips to yours. The sudden contact between your bodies and your back into the wall pulls a gasp from your shaky lips, stomach turning at the pleasant ache it leaves behind.

"You were saying?" Baekhyun murmurs with a roll of his hips, smirking down at your speechless form. He adjusted his hold on your thigh, leaning to whisper in your ear, "Do you need me to remind me who you belong to?"

You grit your teeth, "I belong to mys-self-" you stutter, not expecting his hand to slip inside your panties so suddenly.

"You sure?" Humor is clear in his voice as he swipes his fingers between your slick folds, the lewd noise it admits making you flush all the way up to your ears. "This cunt sure is saying something different."

"Fuck you." Your voice has softened as well, in tiredness or lust, you do not know. But the knowing look on his face makes butterflies swirl in your stomach, having to bite your lip when his fingers slowly drag up to your clit, merely resting against the sensitive bud.

"Maybe if you ask nicely-"

"Never in a million years." You hiss despite the arch of your back.

Baekhyun pauses, looking over your flushed form for a moment. He licks his lips before meeting your eyes again, hosting you up into his arms without a word.

You barely get a grip on his shoulders by the time he's throwing you onto the bed, crawling over your disoriented form on the white silk sheets.

"I guess," He mutters going in for a kiss, hands focused on groping your breasts and twisting your nipples between his nimble fingers, pulling on them just enough for you to whimper, "You need more."

His warm palms slide down your body in the most agonizingly slow pace. You're already panting for breath under his thorough touches and unrelenting lips. He pulls off your panties with ease, spreading your thighs widely over his own.

"So compliant," He murmurs leaning back, eyes trailing over your naked form spread out for him. "Tell me, where did your fighting spirit go, baby?" His fingers slips effortlessly within your wetness, fingertips rubbing slow circles around your clit; watching you try not to squirm with keen eyes. "Hmm? Cat got your tongue?"

All you can do is bite your lip, refusing to respond while directing your gaze to the ceiling. Yelling when his palm roughly slaps your wet core.

He tsks at your thighs trying to close, tapping them, "Keep those open." His voice has that no nonsense tone, one you'd rebuke against if he wasn't palming you firmly, fingertips teasingly dipping into your entrance. "And keep those pretty eyes on me."

A roll of said eyes brings forth another slap, his other hand wrapping around your neck. Your breath hitches, eyes locked on his own, the soft caress of his thumb over your pulse point making you clench on nothing.

"Look at this soaked pussy," He murmurs, watching his fingers slide into your clenching walls with ease, curling them up just enough to make your thighs shake. "My cock will slide right in."

You're drawing blood at this point stubbornly trying to contain yourself, pressing yourself the tiniest bit into his coaxing hand.

"My lady doesn't feel like talking, huh?" His tilt of head doesn't match the mischievous look twinkling in his eyes; not breaking eye contact for a second while gripping your thighs, pushing your knees towards your chest.

You gasp, meekly holding the back of your legs up, feeling yourself blushing all over again at such a vulnerable position. Baekhyun's eyes greedily drinking up the view of your body on display.

"Look at you…" His thumbs part your folds, wicked tongue swiping over his bottom lip before he's leaning down to your core, warm breath making you tremble. "Who else could make your pussy this wet, baby?" You feel more than see the swipe of his tongue up your folds, moaning shakily when his lips wrap around your poor clit.

"Hmm?" His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your skin as you squirm under the strokes of his tongue, little gasps and whimpers streaming like a waterfall from your lips. A messy mix of your arousal and his saliva is already dripping down to the sheets below. "Who else eats this sweet cunt like I do."

"B-Baek," You can feel that coil in your stomach beginning to snap, eyes squeezing shut and body tensing in preparation only for the warmth of his mouth to disappear.

"Hmm? What baby?" He sits back up, wiping his glistening  mouth and chin with the back of his hand despite your protests. "You talk all that shit and think you deserve to cum on my tongue?"

An acute feeling of anger flares up inside of you, squashed down the second you part your lips by the feeling of his bulge pressed against you, only a whimper escaping much to your disappointment and his glee.

"Does my baby want something?" He muses, fingers tapping rhythmically on your shaky inner thigh; pining his hard on more firmly against your weeping core. "Hmm? What do you want, honey, tell me."

"I-I," You squeeze your eyes shut; between the ache between your legs and his fully clothed form leaning over you, you know that this isn't a fight you can win. Baekhyun already has you right where he wants you; under him, hyper sensitive to his every touch. But-

Your eyes flutter back open, swiftly shoving him back with your foot on his chest. Settling into his lap before his shocked form can sit up from the bed. "We are talking about this." You murmur, pushing up his shirt and circling your hips, tucking your fingers under the waistband of his black slacks as he quickly pulls the white material over his head.

Baekhyun's lips part, but you just grind harder against him. "T-Tomorrow." He gulps, helping you remove his pants and boxers all together.

It's your turn to hum, smirking down at him while holding his cock in your hands, teasingly twisting your fingers around his sensitive head. Your thumb ever so slightly dipping into his slit to make him wince, his tip weeping even more precum. "Never forget, baby." You meet his eyes, feeling powerful at the bounds of desperation and need swirling within those fierce brown orbs. Leaning to nibble his earlobe, "I can make you just as weak in the knees."

He continues to silently give you those eyes, groaning when you slip his cock around your wet folds, seeming to harden even more in your palm.

You've been with him long enough to know he won't beg. No matter how hard he is or how much your arousal soaks the sheets, he'll still be the most stubborn man you’ve ever known. So you take the liberty of lining him up with your clenching entrance, taking your time sliding down on him; biting your lip at the stretch as he throws his head back. Adam's apple bobbing in his elegant neck. The clear expanse of skin invites you to mark it all over with the shape of your lips, and you do so willingly.

“Move,” He mutters, tightening his grip on your waist, jaw clenching when you clamp down on him.

You lean back a bit, merely raising a brow. “I’m sorry, what was that?” You leisurely lift up to the tip of his cock, sliding back down at a snail’s pace. “Who’s on top right now?”

“Who’s getting ready to end right back on the mattress?” He raises his head from the pillows, black strands of hair already sticking to his forehead. The message in his eyes is clear: move or I’m doing it for you.

You smile sweetly at him, a complete 360 from the way you brace yourself on his firm chest, slamming yourself down on his cock with a vengeance. “You sure are needy,” You murmur in wake of his barely contained grunt, continuing with the slow yet brutal pace. His cock pulses every time it’s deep in your snug walls, making you laugh. “Are you sure you’re gonna last?”

Baekhyun practically growls, strong arms wrapping around you before your back meets the sheets once again. “Had your fun, baby?”

The satisfied smirk is promptly wiped off your face when his fingers venture back to your clit, grip tight on your hip as he tilts them up to better accommodate him, head of his cock grinding right up against that spot deep within your spasming core.

“So brave drenching my cock,” His lips hover right over your ear, uttering even more filthy things as he pulls a yelp from your dry throat, snapping his hips into yours. Slender fingers relentlessly flicking your clit as he picks up the pace. The obscene noise of his cock slipping within your soaked walls and his balls slapping against your ass brings you close to the edge. A loud moan falling from your lips when his hand once again wraps around your neck, adding the slightest pressure to make you breathless. “Be a good girl and fucking take it.”

There’s not much you can do besides call his name as he pounds you with reckless abandon into the sheets, wrapping your thighs tightly around his waist as you grow close. “B-Baek,” Your eyes fall shut, turning your head away when he swiftly lands a slap on your clit.

He’s not far off either, breath hitching between his gruff grunts and quiet moans, hiding his face in your neck while your hand tangles in his hair. “Come for me.”

Between his fast pace and dexterous fingers, you’re coming undone in seconds, roughly tugging on his damp black strands and clenching around his cock like a vice.

Baekhyun gasps, easing the pressure off of your neck before he’s trembling above you, hot spurts of his warmth filling you up as his sloppy thrusts slow to a stop.

You both lay there for a while catching your breath, your fingers lightly gripping his hair. “...Baekhyun?”

He sits up at the sound of uncertainty in your voice, looking you over for a moment before tucking your hair behind your ear. Swiftly changing your positions with you held to his chest.

You gasp a little at the sudden movement, whimpering as he groans at the way you clench around him again, feeling him stir within your walls. “Baek, w-what-”

“Let’s stay like this,” He mumbles, arms tightening around you when you attempt to get up.

You pause, taking a good look at him, “You’re still inside of me.” Your nose crinkles slightly at the reminder, feeling the tell-tale sign of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs.

“Of course,” He hums, firm hand sliding to your ass and pressing you down further on him; the messy glide of it pulling another whimper from your lips along with his low toned words. “Have to make sure my girl remembers who she belongs to.”

[riisinaakka]

~I’ll Make A Man Out Of You ~

Hey hey hey!! I was listening to some metal covers on YouTube the other day and since this singer happened to look like a non-curly version of Silver I jumped into the idea :D

So imagine Long John Silver singing this [“I’ll Make a Man Out of You“ (from Mulan) but it’s A METAL COVER by Dan Vasc] while "training" the troops in Black Sails s3-s4. So basically he’s just repeating what Flint, DeGroot, Billy, Anne or whoever actually knows what they are doing is instructing... and all the crews are really loving his way of telling things, so they gladly listen to him, lol. At the same time he’s taking a crash course in how to be a leader.

And if you want to add some sad meta stuff? Silver is building “A Man” out of himself too, instead of “just” being seen as a creature / cripple, a coward, a-not-joiner, a thief and so on, because he cannot be seen weak in front of the men anymore and now has to step up to play the part of the Pirate King... so it’s also a pep talk to himself.

OR! Imagine Flint singing the song (mentally in his mind if not aloud) while training Silver “to fight and not die”:

“Once you find your center / You are sure to win” 

*cut to Flint playfully knocking out the new crutch a few times so Silver can start getting used to fighting with it and find balance* Add some training montage on the cliffs and admiring smiles and glances! “Let’s get down to business!”  ;)

“You’re the saddest bunch [of lies] I ever met / But you can bet before we’re through / Mister, I’ll make a man King out of you”

Or just generally imagine Flint singing another cover version of the song (one fitting his vocals better?). Maybe already in s1 or s2 with his twirly mustache, sweaty ponytail and unhinged anger! >:D The song fits well his rousing speeches and him being better at everything than everybody else (and showing it too, lol) while promising to make them the princes men of the New World (and training them to fight against the civilization that is coming).

OR! (a long shot into the dark but I thought I would share it anyway...) somehow connect some later verses with Silver’s plan of returning Flint into “a mortal man” instead of the legend / god-like status of his name if you want to exaggerate or bring some fantasy elements in there... (˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵)

I don’t know how to put all these swirling thoughts into words properly... but first he’s singing about how Flint must be all the Forces of Nature (hello superstitious Silver! and hello James holding on to the part of being Flint even if it’s destroying him because he feels like he has to!).

Then Silver could be sort of singing how to bring “Captain Flint” down, make him walk away from the war and live, crying out the verse “How could can I make a man McGraw out of you?~“ before finding one solution and reuniting him with his old love... reorienting him to the daylight and to the man he once was, so to speak.

Too much? Oops! (ʘ‿ʘ✿) Back to the lighter stuff:

* * * * * * * *

The other voices on the song can be:

“I'm never gonna catch my breath” - (DeGroot, grumpily)

“Say goodbye to those who knew me“ - (Vane, that growl! xD)

“Boy, was I a fool in school for cutting gym“ - (Rackham or Featherstone)

“This guy's got 'em scared to death“ - (Billy, pleased with his plan but not yet knowing how majorly he just fucked up)

“Hope he doesn't see right through me“ - (Max or Eleanor)

“Now I really wish that I knew how to swim” - (Rackham, watching how Anne leaves to do some watery guerilla stuff while he stays on the ship, alone ;_; )

* * * * * * * *

Plus, I find that “Be A Man” choir in the background hilarious (in a good way). Imagine the training montage with the crews and especially Teach looking so stern and trying to drill those macho ideals in them because “it’s the only way to be a proper pirate” or something pfffft.

Also imagine the bonding and tentative friendships with the pirates and the Maroons if they have some joint exercises. Some levity to the grim reality of the upcoming war, let’s have some shenanigans!

Anyway, the point was, imagine Silver having to adapt and play the part of the Pirate King and it somehow manifests as singing metal* and rousing the people that way! >:D

(ﾉ>｡<)ﾉ ♩✧♪●♩○♬☆ヽ(≧▽≦)ﾉ  (*and disney songs, lol)

You / We must be swift as a coursing river With all the force of a great typhoon With all the strength of a raging fire Mysterious as the dark side of the moon ~

Time is racing toward us till the Huns Brits* arrive    (*and Spain) Heed my every order and you might survive You're unsuited for the rage of war So pack up, go home you're through How could I make a man out of you?

* * * * * *

Lastly, maybe he gets swept by the high energy and the power of darkness the more he gets into doing it and ends up even enjoying himself sometimes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Oooh, also don’t forget that the music would be played with hurdy-gurdies, clacking bones, broken pianos and such! 8D 

So yeah, some various thoughts happened *dumps these gleefully on your dash and continues enjoying the song * ☆ﾟ°˖* ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Here’s a quick bonus edit for the mood:

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

On Days Like This (part 5)

Carwood Lipton x Reader

Warnings: survivors guilt, comfort, a disgusting amount of fluff, a sick and sad mother of Easy Company doing his very best, some random dialogue, a lack of forward progression but I’m still proud of it for some reason

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You wake up to the smell of cigarette smoke and for a few moments you think you are back in the makeshift hospital you’d been taken to in Foy.

It’s the feeling of Carwood’s heartbeat against your cheek that brings it all back for you- how you’d snuck out from under the aggressive nurse’s nose during her shift change and managed to bully your way onto a supply truck headed to Hagenau, dressed in a combination of pilfered wool sweaters and a set of fatigues you’d collected from the bodies of fallen soldiers. 

You’d stolen some boots from the supply truck, and when they’d threatened to tell your superior officer you’d informed them that they were more than welcome to do so, as long as they were prepared for your SO to also be told that the supply truck had been delayed a day because it’s drivers wanted to engage in one last sexual encounter with the nurses who’d welcomed them into their beds.

The two men hadn’t bothered you after that.

The moment after you’d reconnected with Nix and Sink, you’d gone to find Car.

Just from the way he’d broken down upon seeing you again, you knew that he’d lost some sense of himself in the time you’d been apart. It broke your heart. It had taken everything in you not to cry as well.

But Carwood had needed you to be strong, and you had decided long ago that you would do anything for him.

If that meant holding him as he cried himself back to sleep in the first mattress you’d shared since your time in Georgia, then so be it.

 When you allowed one eye to peek open, you found that the smell of smoke wasn’t coming from somewhere outside the room- but rather from Carwood himself.

You watched for a moment as he lifted the white stick he’d once called a cancer tube to his lips and pull from it like he’d been doing it for years, a memory of him chastising you for lighting one up beside his cot after he’d been wounded in Carentan flickering in your mind’s eye.

Taking a deep breath, you allow your ribs to expand as you arch your back in a creaking stretch, the movement alerting Carwood of your wakefulness.

“Hm, never thought I’d see the day Clifford Carwood Lipton would willingly smoke a cigarette…”

His light chuckle is warm against your ear, the arm that he’d wrapped around you pulling you close into him and his fingers prodding your ribs playfully until you yelp and attempt to roll away from it.

Car leans over the side of the bed to stamp out the cigarette and set it down, shaking his head slightly as he exhales the remaining smoke in his lungs through pursed lips.

Before he can reply to your teasing, a body-racking cough has him sitting up and trying to catch his breath, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and bracing his elbows on his knees to combat the force of the hacking.

You frown, pushing yourself up to sit behind him and wrap yourself around his back, pressing a kiss between his shoulders once his coughing subsides before resting your cheek there.

 “Got the black lung already?”

He sniffs, clearing his throat a few more times before sighing deeply.

“Doc says it’s pneumonia. Not much he can do.”

You hum at that, closing your eyes as you listen to the strong thud of his heart again.

“You should’ve told me you were hurt.”

Opening your eyes, you lift your head from his back, furrowing your brows at his admonishment.

“Huh?”

 Lip turns enough that he can face you side-on, his tired eyes looking even more exhausted as he nods his head guilty at your arm.

Looking at your right arm, you take in the large lump of bandages wrapped around your bicep, the gauze beneath the sleeve of your sweater making it look almost comically swollen. The three bullets they’d pulled from your arm still remain in a pouch, buried near the body of your knapsack.

 “Car,” you sigh, ready to assure him that you’re perfectly fine and that it’s nothing and that he doesn’t need to worry about you. But, judging by the way he narrows his dark eyes at you, you decide it’s best not to argue the point any further.

“I could’ve hurt you, Y/N! You should’ve said something, shouldn’t of let me grab at you like that—”

“Well, sorry that I was so excited to see the man I love that I didn’t think to give you a full medical report.” you snap, shaking your head and rubbing a hand over your face. “I’ll be sure to remember that from now on….”

 Lip clenches his jaw and curses under his breath, raking a hand through his mussed hair before mumbling your name softly and taking your hand from your face to hold it between his.

 “I didn’t mean it like that, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

When you continue to stare at a point over his shoulder Car sighs and turns to face you further.

You allow his hands to come up and hold your face, eyes flickering to meet his remorseful ones and biting the inside of your cheek.

 “You’re right, I’m sorry...Hey, c’mon.”

The press of his forehead against yours is sweet, despite the fact that you can feel the fever radiating from his skin.

“I just get worried, you know. I missed you so much—”

 You shake your head, pulling your forehead back from his so you can press a kiss to his hairline.

“I do. I know. I’m sorry, too.”

With your uninjured arm, you brush your cooler fingers across his cheek, feeling a bit guilty for snapping at him.

You wondered if a day would come when the two of you would stop having to worry about each other. These days, it was hard to imagine a life consisting of anything other than loss and pain and heavy exhaustion.

 At the feeling of tears rolling over your fingers, you pull back to look at him with concern.

“Lip?”

“I’m so glad that you weren’t there.”

Your throat feels tight, immediately knowing what he’s referring to.

 Your torment at the hands of the German army was nothing compared to the horrors you’d heard occurring in the forest Lip had been in. whatever earth-shaking fear you had experienced second hand couldn’t ever hold a candle to what it must’ve felt like to Easy and Dog Companies.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, ignoring the slight twinge of discomfort in your other arm and bringing your other hand to his face to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I’m just….I’m so fucking sorry, Sweetheart—”

 He’s apologizing again, and you know that he’s not simply apologizing to you for crying in your arms.

With devastating sobs, he tells you about all of it- of Buck and Toye and WIld Bill. you pull him to lean against you when he cries for Muck and Penkala, the other eighty-two lives that had been snatched away from this world while he’d ‘cowardly hid in a hole’ the whole time.

You don’t interrupt him, tears of your own welling in your eyes but unwilling to let them fall.

He needs this, he needs this, I can be strong for him

When he does pull away from you, he’s red-faced and his eyes are swollen, weakly repeating how sorry he is. You kiss him as softly as he had kissed you for the first time in Toccoa, inhaling sharply when he pulls your face closer and smashes your lips to his almost painfully.

You stroke at his face when he pulls away, letting him catch his breath in his own time.

 When he starts coughing again you reach blindly around his feet until you find his canteen, giving him an appreciative smile when he helps you sit back up again.

He drinks dutifully, closing his eyes and letting his head roll from side to side as he swallows.

As you bring his once abandoned cigarette to your lips and relight it with the lighter you’d also managed to find, Lip looks over at you and sighs a weak laugh.

 “You shouldn’t do that, young lady,” he jokes hollowly, taking the cigarette from between your fingers and taking a puff before putting it out again. “It isn’t good for you.”

 Smiling at the ridiculousness of it, you blow the little smoke you’d managed to get into his face.

“You’re lucky I like you, otherwise I’d hit you, you handsome hypocrite.”

 With a soft groan, you swing your legs around so you’re sitting beside him, your thigh pressed against his as you mirror his pose. Car brings your hand into his and laces your fingers together.

 “In the interest of being candid, I should probably tell you that I’ve lost three toes since we’ve last seen each other—”

“What?”

 His head whips to the side to look at you in surprise, gaping at the casual shrug you offer in explanation.

 “Frostbite is a bitch….”

 Carwood opens his mouth to protest your nonchalance, before seeming to think better of it and shooting you a glare.

 “Well, as long as we’re being honest, I might as well tell you that I’ve been promoted.”

 You feel your face drop in surprise for a moment before you grin like an idiot, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing it excitedly.

 “Lieutenant Clifford Carwood Lipton,” you murmur, liking the way the title tastes on your tongue.

“Just wait till my mother hears that I’ve snagged myself a Lieutenant—!”

 When Car rolls his eyes you press a quick kiss to his cheek.

The dead may always hang over your heads, and maybe they’re meant to.

But, for right now, the two of you have never felt more alive.

 And that was more than enough.

~ ~ ~

( ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ here we be, kids. I love you bbs and will fight for your honor any day of the week (just not Mondays at 11am, bc Mama has therapy)

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