#and like they’re kind of too important a part of the story for me to just

[halojalex]

i really want to write a chaptered slow burn fic but it’s just so hard to come up with ideas??? like i have a couple but idk im not really sold on any of them

[valeriehalla]

actual writing advice

1. Use the passive voice.

What? What are you talking about, “don’t use the passive voice”? Are you feeling okay? Who told you that? Come on, let’s you and me go to their house and beat them with golf clubs. It’s just grammar. English is full of grammar: you should go ahead and use all of it whenever you want, on account of English is the language you’re writing in.

2. Use adverbs.

Now hang on. What are you even saying to me? Don’t use adverbs? My guy, that is an entire part of speech. That’s, like—that’s gotta be at least 20% of the dictionary. I don’t know who told you not to use adverbs, but you should definitely throw them into the Columbia river.

3. There’s no such thing as “filler”.

Buddy, “filler” is what we called the episodes of Dragon Ball Z where Goku wasn’t blasting Frieza because the anime was in production before Akira Toriyama had written the part where Goku blasts Frieza. Outside of this extremely specific context, “filler” does not exist. Just because a scene wouldn’t make it into the Wikipedia synopsis of your story’s plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important to your story. This is why “plot” and “story” are different words!

4. okay, now that I’ve snared you in my trap—and I know you don’t want to hear this—but orthography actually does kind of matter

First of all, a lot of what you think of as “grammar” is actually orthography. Should I put a comma here? How do I spell this word in this context? These are questions of orthography (which is a fancy Greek word meaning “correct-writing”). In fact, most of the “grammar questions” you’ll see posted online pertain to orthography; this number probably doubles in spaces for writers specifically.

If you’re a native speaker of English, your grammar is probably flawless and unremarkable for the purposes of writing prose. Instead, orthography refers to the set rules governing spelling, punctuation, and whitespace. There are a few things you should know about orthography:

English has no single orthography. You already know spelling and punctuation differ from country to country, but did you know it can even differ from publisher to publisher? Some newspapers will set parenthetical statements apart with em dashes—like this, with no spaces—while others will use slightly shorter dashes – like this, with spaces – to name just one example.

Orthography is boring, and nobody cares about it or knows what it is. For most readers, orthography is “invisible”. Readers pay attention to the words on a page, not the paper itself; in much the same way, readers pay attention to the meaning of a text and not the orthography, which exists only to convey that meaning.

That doesn’t mean it’s not important. Actually, that means it’s of the utmost importance. Because orthography can only be invisible if it meets the reader’s expectations.

You need to learn how to format dialogue into paragraphs. You need to learn when to end a quote with a comma versus a period. You need to learn how to use apostrophes, colons and semicolons. You need to learn these things not so you can win meaningless brownie points from your English teacher for having “Good Grammar”, but so that your prose looks like other prose the reader has consumed.

If you printed a novel on purple paper, you’d have the reader wondering: why purple? Then they’d be focusing on the paper and not the words on it. And you probably don’t want that! So it goes with orthography: whenever you deviate from standard practices, you force the reader to work out in their head whether that deviation was intentional or a mistake. Too much of that can destroy the flow of reading and prevent the reader from getting immersed.

You may chafe at this idea. You may think these “rules” are confusing and arbitrary. You’re correct to think that. They’re made the fuck up! What matters is that they were made the fuck up collaboratively, by thousands of writers over hundreds of years. Whether you like it or not, you are part of that collaboration: you’re not the first person to write prose, and you can’t expect yours to be the first prose your readers have ever read.

That doesn’t mean “never break the rules”, mind you. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with English orthography, then you are free to break it as you please. Knowing what’s expected gives you the power to do unexpected things on purpose. And that’s the really cool shit.

5. You’re allowed to say the boobs were big if the story is about how big the boobs were

Nobody is saying this. Only I am brave enough to say it.

Well, bye!

[no-144444]

family issues-l.norris (no.4)

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

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

pairing: lando norris (no.4) x fem! sky presenter! reader

summary: lando (and his mum) are there for you during a difficult time.

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

P1. Pole position. Incredible. 

“Well done,” you smiled, hugging him close as he entered his driver’s room. ��You did really well.”

You could feel his smile against your neck. “Thanks baby.”

You stayed there like that for a moment, just holding each other, then he pulled back with a big smile on his face. “OH! My mum is here, you can finally meet her!”

A part of your heart sank, and another part lifted. You’d met a good portion of his family and they were all lovely. It’s just that every time you met a part of his family, he wanted to meet a part of your family. You’d been dating for a year now, and up until 2 months ago, yeah, he could’ve met your family. But then… they decided to go no-contact with you. They just told you not to call or visit anymore. You weren’t their daughter anymore. Whatever, that was fine. Your parents were emotionally unavailable due to your sister’s mental health issues, and your sister didn’t treat you well at all. You were the glass child. 2 months ago you’d gone to dinner with them and your sister brought up all your ‘happy memories’, but all of them were moments without you, or moments where you were the joke. You’d gotten upset at them, and apparently that was all they needed to kick you out of the family. So much for love. So much for blood. Lando couldn’t make it to that dinner, and he was so upset that he couldn’t. He was worried your parents thought he wasn’t serious, or that he was dodging meeting them, but you told him not to worry, that they’d meet ‘another time’. Now, you were out of chances. You didn't tell Lando about the fight or everything that came after, he’d been struggling enough with his own mental health without you having to burden him with yours. So, you just swallowed it and told yourself you’d tell him over the summer shutdown. Then, Lando was having so much fun that you didn’t want to ruin it, so you decided you’d tell him after Singapore. Probably. Maybe. 

“Awesome!” you smiled. Even you could tell you didn’t sound right, too pitchy, too awkward, too surprised. 

He raised an eyebrow. “You alright?”

“Fine,” you nodded. “Where is she? I want to meet her.” 

He nodded, still sceptical but obliged you and led you to his mother. Cisca was warm and welcoming, funny and kind, and just a good person. You saw so much of her in Lando. He was beaming as he watched you two interact, so happy that two of the most important people in his life got along. You spent the whole afternoon together as Lando went on with his duties, chatting about your lives, sharing stories about Lando and yourselves, you even got to see some embarrassing baby photos of Lando.

“So what about your parents? Do they ever come to the races?” She asked, a big smile on her face. 

“Well, no actually. We don’t talk much,” you chuckled. 

She raised an eyebrow, the same way Lando does. “Really? Lan told me that you were quite close with them?”

You sighed. “Can I tell you something? And you can’t tell Lan.”

She nodded and took your hand. “Of course.”

“2 months ago my parents disowned me. Lan has been begging to meet them and I have no idea what to tell him. I feel awful about it, and I didn’t want to add to his stress so I just keep lying to him telling him they’re busy. I just feel so… guilty,” you admitted. 

She sighed. “You poor girl. It's awful that you have to go through all of that on your own.” 

“Well, it’s not that bad,” you chuckled, trying to lighten the moment.

“It is. And that’s ok. It’s ok to be upset,” she smiled warmly. “I know my son, and he has not shut up about you since he met you as a sky presenter 2 years ago. Lan is a family-oriented person, and he’s just excited to be a part of your family and have you be a part of ours. He’d want to be there for you, the same way you’re there for him.”

You could feel yourself tearing up. You’d never had someone be so kind to you, never had someone treat you like a daughter. “Thank you,” you smiled sadly. 

“And anyways, your parents suck, you can be my daughter now,” she smiled.

And you definitely cried. But, they were happy tears. You’d found your family. 

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

After your eye-opening conversation with Cisca, you decided you’d come clean to Lando. As you two entered your room he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek. 

“How was my mum today?” he asked, his voice deep with tiredness, and eyes heavy with sleep. 

“She was amazing, we had a bunch of fun,” you smiled. “Can I talk to you about something?”

He nodded. “‘Course baby.”

“It’s about my family.” 

Lando woke up slightly, sitting on the bed as you stood between his legs. “Alright.”

“2 months ago, after that dinner I went to, they cut contact and disowned me. It was up to my sister why and well, we know how much he hates me. So yeah, I have no family anymore, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want to burden you with it.”

You looked at Lando and his face was a mixture of anger, guilt, and upset. He cleared his throat and his grip around your waist got tighter. “Number one, I’m so sorry that happened to you. That’s fucking shit and your parents don’t deserve you. Number two, you will never ever be a burden to me. Ever. You’re the most important person in my life. I love you Y/n, more than anything. I always want you to come to me about things that are happening and how you feel. Number three, fuck your family, you’re my family, alright?” 

You chuckled sadly, running your fingers through his hair. “Right. Thanks Lan, I love you.”

He smiled. “I love you more.”

“I feel it,” you smiled. He stood up and kissed your cheek. 

“Seriously, I’m here for you, always. Never forget that.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I know. I won’t.”

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

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[acrosstheujiverse]

dynamics of an introverted couple

【🔎】 description: scenarios you have with your introverted boyfriend, woozi, as an introvert yourself. 【🖇️】 pairing: introvert!woozi x introvert!reader. 【💿】 genre: FLUFF!! 【🧺】 tags: butterflies in your stomach, x1000 cute.

📬 — author’s note！my first official post! haha. it MAY take a while for me to actually have the courage and confidence to post my aus, but i hope you will be patient with me ^-^

thank you ♡ enjoy reading this.

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୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

your love story wouldn’t be one of love at first sight. no. instead, it would go under the slow-burn genre of romance. a friends-to-lovers slow burn.

in the few instances where jihoon would be outside and hang out with his small circle of close friends, he would be introduced to you. by courtesy of seungcheol.

you and jihoon’s first meeting was somewhat formal, with a few jokes and questions to break the ice, courtesy of soonyoung. it would take the two of you more hangout sessions to actually feel comfortable in each other’s presence.

jihoon would be the first to fall; he wouldn’t admit it to you, but he started to be interested with everything you said, and he would care about you. more than in a friendly way.

when hit with the growing feeling of being in love with you, jihoon would try to keep it to himself. he would be too shy to confess his feelings.

as the two of you walked after having finished yet another hangout session with your friends, you would be the one who confessed to him. in the many hangouts you had, you knew jihoon already; he was not the type to actually express his feelings. he wouldn’t be the one confessing, and he wouldn’t have the courage to actually risk your friendship.

you and jihoon wouldn’t have many fights.

when you two DO have fights, it’s because of a lack of communication. you suppress your feelings, whereas jihoon expresses himself with harsh words, pushing people away and isolating himself in his studio. (it’s due to his hectic work schedule and lack of sleep that he struggles to manage his stress.)

you both learned the hard way why communication—communicating your feelings—is an important part of any relationship.

both of you have slowly become vulnerable to each other. through face-to-face conversations or through text, whichever makes you both comfortable.

“not everyone is comfortable talking about their emotions and vulnerabilities, and that’s okay. but please don’t push people out without first telling them how you feel about the topic (that you’re uncomfortable and would like to not talk about it). if they’re truly concerned about you, they would understand the boundary you just put up and drop the topic.”

this relationship would be LOWKEY—i mean on the down DOWN-low. to the point where the only time you publicly show your guy’s relationship would be after like 5+ years of dating. (it’s THAT lowkey.)

it wouldn’t be surprising to many if you both decided to announce your relationship once you were both engaged.

even though he doesn’t have that much dating experience… jihoon would be the romantic type. he doesn’t show it, but he has seen different types of media—from shows to animes—to KNOW how to be romantic towards his partner. he wouldn’t be the over-the-top kind of romantic, but he would surprise you in the simplest but sweetest of ways. like randomly giving you flowers (if you’re allergic, it’s fake flowers) out of nowhere just because he felt like it, or (leaning to something more of his forte) dedicating a song he’s been writing to you—a melodic and nostalgic feeling to it.

for you and jihoon, it’s the little things that count. simple but never boring.

both you and jihoon liked the privacy and intimacy of your relationship.

you two are liberated from the social convention of broadcasting your guy’s relationship to the public. you two can be in love without the prying eyes of the public.

sleeping in on weekends would be the norm for both of you because you’re both sleep-deprived.

groggily waking up to sight of jihoon’s cute sleeping face, you honestly can’t be more grateful for his existence and presence in your life.

you can’t help but lightly pinch at the sight of jihoon’s squishy cheeks. he would slowly and slightly open his eyes, his nose scrunching from the sensation. he gives you a lazy smile and a soft peck at the tip of your nose.

“g’morning love.”

[it was in fact the afternoon, but who could correct this fatigued guy?]

although your love for each other may not be as obvious as most relationships are, it is the kind of love that you’re glad to be going home to.

a quiet love that speaks languages that only you two understand.

— fin.

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ BLACK CAT X GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY ~ OTP PROMPTS

requested by: @moondrop-gummies request: Can you do grumpy sunshine where she’s the grumpy but doesn’t believe she can be loved and he’s the sunshine who treats her like she’s the best thing in his life and they’re roommates? Thank you in advance! 🎀

Feel free to use and reblog!

Part 1: ~ GRUMPY X SUNSHINE ~ PROMPTS

grumpy being unable to accept anything kind that sunshine tries to do for them

sunshine just admiring anything grumpy does

sunshine staying at home despite being invited elsewhere just to spend more time with grumpy

sunshine doing the things around the house that grumpy dreads doing

grumpy being snarky about the nice things sunshine does but they both know grumpy is actually enjoying them

sunshine having endless patience with grumpy because they know/hope that they'll come around eventually

sunshine making sure to tell grumpy that they deserve the world

grumpy warming up to sunshine and being in a bright mood in sunshine's company

grumpy being patient with sunshine and listening to their long, colourful stories but that's the least they can do when sunshine does everything for them

grumpy's love language is telling sunshine that they deserve more (than grumpy could ever give them)

sunshine's love language is showering grumpy with affection until grumpy snaps

grumpy trying to push sunshine away to guard themselves from developing serious feelings

grumpy hyping sunshine up when they find out that sunshine has a crush, not knowing that it's them

^ and immediately changing course when they find out (because sunshine shouldn't throw their love away on someone as undeserving as grumpy)

sunshine not paying any mind to grumpy's self-depricating rants and just keeping up their high level of affection and warmth

grumpy being able to let their guard down and accept the love because of sunshine's unconditional and unwavering support

grumpy 'you're an idiot to choose me' & sunshine 'I would be that idiot in any universe and you love it'

grumpy being seriously worried about sunshine having developed feelings for grumpy ("you can't be sane. you should see a doctor.")

grumpy being the biggest sunshine stan but they adore them too much to be willing to expose them to the madness that means grumpy

sunshine doing everything with grumpy that want but nothing more and nothing less because they know how important it is to respect grumpy's boundaries

[13uswntimagines]

Rainbowfish (Leah X Alessia X child!r)

Request: R calls Leah mom for the first time.

Part of the Big Emotions universe- find more here.

Warnings: none. Cute Kid Fic.

Author's note: TBH I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this one, and the ending is a bit short, but I wanted to get it out. Also, I know in the UK it's Mum and not Mom, but that's a plot point I want to explore later Lol. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.

Your bedtime story was very important business in the Russo-Williamson household. 

It was the one part of your routine that never ever changed. The one part that you would refuse to sleep without (aside from a few weeks during the World Cup). 

It was your absolute favorite part of the day, being cuddled into your Mama’s side with Squirt as she read you the book of the night. She did all the little voices and gently scratched your back. it never failed to send you straight to sleep. Most of the time you didn’t even make it through the book. 

Alessia treasured it. 

No matter how busy your days were, she made sure she got to read you your story. In the days with Manchester United, it had been the only time she really got to spend with you regularly. Things were better with Arsenal and since you had moved in with Leah, but your routine had stuck, and Leah respected that it was your special time with your mama.

“‘Thank you! Thank you so much!’ The little blue fish bubbled playfully, as he tucked the shiny scale among his blue ones,” Alessia read, watching as your tiny fingers traced the tiny shimmering scale on the blue fish on the page, made of a different material than the rest. 

It was your favorite part of The Rainbow Fish. 

His scales were different from the pages, so they shimmered in the fairy lights around your room. 

“Is Leah Rainbow Fish?” You asked, running your fingers over the fish. 

Alessia’s eyebrows pulled together, a crinkle forming between them (identical to the one you always got). “What do you mean bug?”

“Is that why people always stop her?” You glanced up at your mama, meeting eyes that were identical to your own. “So she give them a shiny scale,” 

You wondered how she hid them all under her clothes. Maybe that was why people always wanted her and your mama to take their shirts off, to see their shimmery scales. 

Alessia hummed, rubbing her hand through your messy curls. “Leah is kind of like a Rainbowfish, but instead of giving away scales, she reminds people that they’re special too,”

A little crease appeared between your eyebrows as you processed the thought, and you dragged your little finger from the Rainbow fish towards the larger fish on the page. “Is Leah my mommy like Rainbow fish has mommy?”

Alessia eased another curl from in front of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. “Do you want Leah to be your mommy?”

You nodded. “She does bath time, and plays with me, And never forgets the popcorn for movie night,”

“She does,” Alessia agreed, her lips turning into a fond smile. 

“And she loves us,” You continued, meeting her eyes. 

They shined in the fairy lights of your room, glimmering with an innocence that Alessia would protect until the day she died. 

You mama hummed. “Very very much,”

“Then that means she’s mommy because she does all the mommy things,” You said, with a sense of finality, and understanding that was far beyond what Alessia thought a 2-and-a-half-year-old could understand. 

“Hmm,” She paused, brushing a curl from in front of your eyes. Her and Leah had never fully discussed titles, but she could see that you were right. That the defender had slotted perfectly into the role. That Leah had earned it. “I think Leah would be happy with whatever you decide to call her,”

You nodded like it was a done deal. “Finish story now?”

Alessia swallowed, unable to stop the fond smile from curling across her lips. “Yeah bug, well finish the story,” 

She would let you be the one to tell Leah about the discussion. 

She was sure the defender would appreciate it more coming from you anyway. 

******

“Come on bug, the sharks are this way,” Leah said softly, adjusting the ear defenders that accompanied you on most outings as you stared at the tank of Seahorses. 

These were painted with tiger sharks, sea turtles, seahorses, and jellyfish, a perfect accomplishment to the atmosphere of the aquarium, and the reason Alessia had them made.

It was probably a toss-up between the aquarium and the zoo for your favorite one-on-one activities with Leah. The carefully selected outings that weren't too loud, or overstimulating that Leah could take you on to distract you while Alessia had an obligation you couldn’t accompany her on. 

The seahorse tank was just inside the entrance to the building, small and lit with a variety of colorful LEDs. It never failed to catch your attention, and you could/would stand in front of it for hours if Leah let you, listening to her read off the information plaque several times. 

She would usually let you, but she spotted a school group bustling through the coral-shaped entranceway. She didn’t fancy being shoved aside by a bunch of screaming schoolchildren, and she knew you wouldn’t either. 

You didn’t enjoy crowds unless there was a barrier between you and them. 

You dragged your eyes away from the tank to meet hers, your head tilting as you squeezed Squirt more tightly to you.“Turtle?”

“And the turtles,” Leah agreed, catching your hand. “We can’t go through without seeing Rocky, Bella, and Culver now can we,”

You nodded seriously at the names of your favorite turtles, holding her hand tightly as she guided you past the seahorses and to the next tank. 

It was smaller, filled with 20 little fish milling about, their scales glinting off of the artificial light in the tank. 

“Rainbow fish?” You asked, looking up at Leah for confirmation. 

Leah squinted at the familiar plaque. “It says that these guys are Flame Angelfishes. They come from Hawaii, and they like to hang out on coral reefs,”

You frowned, turning back to the tanks as one of the smaller fish swam by. 

You knew they weren’t called rainbowfishes, but you still asked Leah each time, hoping for a different answer. 

“No rainbow fish?” You pouted, leaning closer to the tank, but not touching it. 

You knew it was important not to bang on the glass so you didn’t scare the fish. They wouldn’t be your friend if you scared them. 

“We can call it a rainbow fish,” Leah said, squatting down next to you. “I don’t think they’ll mind,”

You made a low sound, your fingers creeping their way past your lips. 

“Hey, none of that,” She scolded gently, pulling your fingers from your mouth. “We don’t know where those little fingers have been,”

It was a bad habit her and your mama were fighting hard to break, how everything from your fingers to your shirt collars ended up in your mouth. 

“Does rainbow fish give out his scales?” You asked, looking away from the tank to briefly meet her eyes. 

“Hmm,” Leah hummed at the familiar question, glancing back at the little fish curiously swimming in front of you. “I think they would share their scales if one of their needed friends needed one,”

“Like you give out your scales?” You asked, your eyes never leaving the tank. 

Leah frowned. “What do you mean bug?”

“You’re mama’s Rainbowfish,” You said earnestly, turning away from the fish to meet Leah’s eyes again. 

“I’m your rainbow fish too,” She said with a very soft smile, running her hand through your messy curls. 

You nodded, as though her words confirmed something for you. What, Leah wasn’t entirely sure. 

Several fish swam by, and you watched in wonder as they did circles around each other, and Leah felt herself fall a little more in love with you. 

In the beginning, she hadn’t been entirely sure how things would go when Alessia warned her that you two were a package deal. She always wanted kids, but she didn’t know if she was mother material now. 

Then she met you, and you wrapped your little hand around her finger and she knew you had her hooked. 

Now, she couldn’t imagine her life without you, or Alessia. She treasured getting to see your excitement and wonder at simple things, like fish swimming circles around a tank. 

She would stand here all day if that’s what you wanted. 

You did for a long second before you looked back up at her. “Turtles?”

She smiled down at you. “Yep, let’s go see the turtles,” 

You looked back at the tank, waving to the fish. 

One of the little fish swam across the face of the tank as though he was waving goodbye to you. 

You waved back at him, and Leah refrained from telling you that he probably didn’t understand what bye-bye rainbow fish meant. 

You took Leah’s hand and let her lead you deeper into the aquarium. 

********

Leah could tell you were getting tired as you finally made it all the way through the shark tunnel. Your little legs were dragging, and your fingers kept trying to find their way past your lips with increasing frequency. 

You had skipped your nap, and she knew you had a limited amount of time before you got grumpy, even if you were at one of your favorite places. It was always a balance of letting you experience the things you wanted and keeping you from getting overtired. 

“How about we see the rays and then go get some lunch?” She asked you, wiggling your hand. 

“Otay,” You mumbled, leaning into Leah and letting her pull you through the shark-shaped archway and into one of your favorite parts of the aquarium, the stingray touch tank. 

“Hello miss Y/n!” The peppy blonde worker smiled widely at you as soon as you rounded the corner and sent a wave to Leah. 

The two of you came here often enough that she knew you quite well. 

You sent her a small wave, making sure Squirt didn’t slip from under your arm. “Ello Kara,”

“Do you want to feed the stingrays today?” She asked you, gesturing towards the touch tank that you always visited. “Rocky and Dibs are in a very friendly mood,”

She knew you well enough to know that there were days when you liked to pet the rays and ones when you just wanted to watch. 

You perked up, nodding excitedly, turning to Leah and holding out your stuffed turtle. “Mommy, hold squirt so he no get wet?”

Leah blinked at you, making no move to take the turtle. “Say that again my darling?”

“You hold Squirt so I feed Rocky and Dibs?” You repeated, holding out the blue and green stuffed turtle. 

Leah blinked again and squatted in front of you, bringing her hands up to cup your jaw. 

“No bug, what did you call me?” She asked, her thumbs brushing your cheeks softly. 

“Mommy,” You said, your eyebrows furrowing. “Mama said be ok cause you my Rainbow fish,”

Leah hummed. 

Of course, you had talked it over with Alessia first. She would have been more surprised if you hadn’t. 

“It’s very ok,” She assured you, swallowing away the lump in her throat, and pulling you close so she could kiss your forehead. “I’m your Mummy and your rainbow fish,”

You tolerated her lips against your hairline for a very long second before you pulled away, holding your turtle out for her. “Hold squirt so he no get wet?”

It amazed her how… casual you were about all of this. How you said it as if it just made sense. She swallowed down the swelling in her chest, knowing you wouldn’t react well if she started crying, even if the tears were happy. 

“Sure, bug,” She smiled gently at you, taking the offered toy and holding him close as she released you. “Do you need help washing your hands?”

You shook your little head, turning back towards the blonde Stingray keeper. “No, Kara help me,”

She watched you as you toddled towards the sink, immediately talking to Kara about how the Rays were doing. 

She would watch over you forever. 

She was your Mum and your Rainbow fish.

[blue-jisungs]

so i had a request but i feel like it's kinda dumb....how would stray kids react to you meeting and getting along with their siblings.

like chan has hannah and lucas, changbin's older sister, han's older brother, felix's sisters racheal and olivia, seungmin's older sister and jeongin and his two brothers

but then it would leave out lee know and hyunjin

soooooooooo

getting along with their siblings/pets ♡

a/n. i’m so sorry you had to wait for so long i remember when you even dmd me about it😭😭😭 i’m so so sorry!! hope you enjoy it though <3

also ywah, i didn’t want to leave out those who don’t have siblings so i just put their pets because well, they are family too <3

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

hannah. she’s an icon, she’s an legend and she IS the moment

tbh you just clicked the moment you met and chan knew he’s screwed

because she dragged you to her room and you barely left it because YOU WERE GOSSIPING WITH HER

she told you his embarrassing childhood stories and you swore they almost got into a fight over you (#siblingthings)

but he caught you two filming some tiktoks and his heart melted

like okay she’s his younger sister of course she’s a pain in the ass but he was relieved to see that you’re getting along well

maybe a little too well, even

and hannah likes you to this point that she threatened him that if you ever break up she’s blocking him everywhere??

and when it comes to lucas idrk him

but i feel like he’d get along with you well too

bc you know, to tease his brother as well teehee

but also you’re just so funny like that and he actually likes hanging out with you :”)

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

he doesn’t have siblings but he has cats 🙏

and he was kind of anxious if they’re going to like you bc then he’d be torn who to choose… you… or cats…

so when you first step into his parents place and dori, soonie and doongie sprinted towards him, he’s frozen

they are slowly sniffing you too, you’re looking at him frightened

then they just go to kitchen bc they’re hungry lol 😭

but once the oldest sniffs you and even sits on your lap, the others accept you as a part of their lil family

and minho is just standing there, heart jumping out of his chest and he’s this close 🤏 from running to grab a camera

bc he’s just so in love :(

however you stumbled upon some relationship problems with soonie 💔

worry not! minho is here to get you two on friendly terms again💪

will show you where are his fav petting spots and will even let you feed him extra feeds

he wants you to be friends again, okay? he can bend some feeding rules for such critical situations

spoiler alert: you are on good terms with soonie after this (minho teases that it’s the extra snacks but deep down he believes that soonie knows how important you are to him)

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

bare with me because i don’t know NOTHING about his sister, even her name 💀

but i feel like changbin would be kinda anxious. will she like you? will you like her?

he just knows this and that about girls’ friendships and he really hopes you two will get along well

esp that she’s older

turns out you get along well. too well.

teasing changbin really made it easier for you two

he’d be like “how are my two fav people in the world doing–?”

“sup gimli”

and he doesn’t even question how you came up with that since currently you and his sister are rolling on the floor rn

but he’d really melt if he saw you napping together on a couch after an all nighter…

…or whenever he’d catch his sister pulling a blanket over you when you fall asleep on your desk bc you were studying all night :(

(even though he teases her later about it bc it’s “his job as your bf”)

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

another siblingless person but he’s a dad at least!!?

same story as lino’s🤓

he’d really want kkami to like you :(

he’d look up in google something like “wiki how to make my dog like my gf”

🧍‍♀️

tbh kkami loved you the second you walked in

hyunjin walked into the room and went “aww give me a kiss i missed you sm!!”

but kkami ran straight to you, sniffling all over and waving his tail

hyunjin let out a dramatic gasp as he licked all over your face, tail swooshing like crazy

you bet he will be all pouty when kkami crawls up and cuddles or naps in your lap, not his

but honestly he’s glad he likes you :”)

he sometimes has troubles falling asleep when you’re laying in bed together and kkami is sleeping in between your legs… BCS ITS SO DAMM CUTE AND DOMESTIC AND HE WANTS TO BITE HIS FIST TO PREVENT HIMSELF FROM SCREAMING!!!

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

another one that we don’t know much of

anxious pt 2

he’s scared 1) if he’s gonna like you 2) if you’re going to like him 3) if he’s not gonna act weird

and well, honestly speaking your beginnings weren’t too… joyful

it was awkward as hell

han wanted to run away

but then you were like “uh so i heard you were the reason why han stopped believing in santa–?”

and boom

suddenly you know more about jisung thank you thought you did

for example (now hold your breath i am being dead serious) you got to see with your own eyes. one of the last evidence. relicts even. that han jisung is not, in fact, an alien that spawned at the age of 13.

mhm, that’s right.

his brother had a picture of baby han and you just laughed your ass off because how silly he looked

and han, who was standing literally next to you, was just 🧍‍♀️

anyways jisung kind of regretted introducing you to him anyways

┆彡 YONGBOK [ 용복 ]

i’m… how do i say this…

felix honestly knew that his sisters will like you. duh, love you

so it was just a matter of meeting them

but he did not expect them to just… kind of act like you knew each other since birth

(the truth was olivia reached to you through tiktok and then created a gc with you and rachel… like three years before you actually met in australia)

(AND felix did not know shit about it)

so you can just imagine how flabbergasted he was when the girls saw you and literally flew to hug you

“olivia, rachel this is–“

“we know, now go away we have an urgent matter to discuss” his younger sister shooed him away, leaving felix speechless as you giggled and waved at him

mans didn’t see you for DAYS like :”) they kinda kidnapped you and you spent time with them and lemme tell you… it was so fun 😭

“i’m kinda jealous… give me y/n back?!” felix laughed once, grabbing your left wrist

“no, she’s ours!! 🥹” rachel huffed grabbing your right wrist

good luck solving that.

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

tbh he doesn’t care?? like he’s aware that some people tend to like each other, some not

so it would be natural if you didn’t get along with his sis, he’d understand that

but - unfortunately for him - you did get along

okay it was a bit awkward at first

she’s like “what’s your interest in my brother 😐”

and while you’re SWEATING trying to explain you’re his gf and just madly in love and just simply explaining how you have no bad intentions

seungmin is loving it, laughing his ass off

bug then suddenly his sister is like

“if he ever makes you cry just call me, okay? i’ll take care of him ☺️☺️☺️”

oh how the turn tables, now you’re the one laughing

his sister would be really kind and love to hang out with you

“you’re like the younger sibling i never had!” once was what she said and seungmo just deadpanned, glaring daggers at u

also his sis would demand random selfies of you two and then send one of her back, it became your little habit

she’ll sometimes still act cold to keep her “older sis” posture but she really has a soft spot for you

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

good luck, that’s all i’m gonna say

he has two brothers.

prepare for chaos because they are SO hyped he has a gf

and it’s their goal to embarrass the shit out of him

so jeongin brings you to a family dinner, it’s all fun until his younger brother offers you go on a walk with them

and i.n is just??

the second his parents aren’t in sight anymore, they bombard you with questions and fun facts abt him

“he snores so loudly doesn’t he?” “did you know he leaves his dirty clothes on the floor? like all the time?” “i bet he picks his nose when you don’t look–“

ans jeongin is just jumping at them like!??!

but you reassure them he’s actually not that bad 🙄

and later on when you come back from the walk, you’re playing mario kart and just having fun time

and your boyfriend just sits there like 😄 because he’s so happy they liked you

and oh boy, they treat you like you’re their BRO

that pisses him off a bit like 🙄

��have some respect for my gf” “she’s literally one of us what do you mean”

and you’re just there, having an all nighter with all of them while having games

they feel comfortable with you and that’s what makes jeongin forgive the…. uncultured behaviour… 👍

(“stop burping there’s a lady!” “lady my ass, i’m better than you at fifa–!”)

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @moonacholy ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddenoudepression ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @gyudiarys

[awkward-walking-potato]

Heyo! I love how you write stories with Logan with animals because they’re so beautiful!! I was wondering if you’d write another one please? The reader is a shy mutant with nature powers (grow all kinds of flora, manipulate the elements, live harmonious with any kind of animal), she’s basically like Mother Nature. She has a big secret place where she often goes to. She created it to keep all kind of creatures save from humans and mutants, especially exotic ones, and are very dear to her. He tried to follow her once, but others cannot find the place except for her or if she allows them in. One day, she wants to show it to him and have him meet her family and one of her oldest family members, a gigantic dragon. The dragon is quite intelligent and doesn’t seem impressed nor does he seem to like Logan and constantly tries to kindly kill him/play pranks on him whenever she’s not looking (e.g. pushing him into a pool of mud, taking up all her attention for him, etc.). You can also add Wade to the story if you want to. Thank you so so much and hope you’ve a beautiful day!! 💙

The hidden Sanctuary

Wolverine had always been a lone wolf. Even as part of the X-Men, he kept to himself, preferred the company of silence, and embraced the solace of solitude. But there was something about Y/N that intrigued him. Maybe it was her shyness or the way she melted into the background, rarely speaking unless spoken to, or perhaps it was the powerful, almost mystical energy that seemed to ripple off her in waves whenever she was around nature. Whatever it was, Logan found himself drawn to her in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Y/N was a mutant with powers unlike any he’d seen before. She could grow entire forests with a wave of her hand, manipulate the elements like it was second nature, and animals of all kinds flocked to her as if she were Mother Nature herself. Logan had seen her turn a desolate wasteland into a thriving ecosystem in seconds, and yet, she remained so modest about her abilities.

He had tried to follow her once when she snuck out of the mansion, curious as to where she went when she thought no one was watching. But no matter how closely he trailed her, she always managed to lose him, disappearing into the forest like a whisper on the wind.

Eventually, he let it go. If she wanted to keep her secrets, he wouldn’t pry… too much. But the more time they spent together, the more Logan found himself wanting to know everything about her. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe, and though he’d never admit it out loud, he wanted her to trust him enough to let him in.

One evening, as they sat on the mansion’s roof, watching the sunset, she turned to him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of anxiety and excitement. “Logan, I… I want to show you something. It’s important to me, but you have to promise not to tell anyone about it.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, surprised by her sudden openness. “You know you can trust me, darlin’. I won’t say a word.”

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Okay… follow me.”

The journey was long and winding. They traveled deep into the forest, far from the mansion and any sign of civilization. The trees grew denser, the air richer with the scent of pine and earth. Logan stayed close, his senses on high alert, but Y/N moved with a confidence that made him feel oddly at ease.

After what felt like hours, she stopped in front of a large, ancient tree with sprawling roots. She placed a hand on the bark and whispered something he couldn’t make out. To Logan’s astonishment, the tree seemed to shimmer before it slowly began to part, revealing a hidden pathway bathed in golden light.

“This way,” she said softly, taking his hand and leading him through the opening.

Logan’s breath caught in his throat as they stepped into a paradise beyond imagination. It was a hidden sanctuary, a place untouched by the modern world. Lush, vibrant plants of every color covered the ground, towering trees stretched high into the sky, their branches heavy with fruit, and a crystal-clear waterfall cascaded into a sparkling pool surrounded by delicate flowers.

Exotic creatures roamed freely, some so rare that Logan had only heard about them in legends. There were unicorns grazing by the water’s edge, phoenixes perched in the trees, and even a small family of griffins playfully wrestling in the distance.

“This… this is incredible,” Logan breathed, his voice laced with awe.

Y/N smiled shyly, a blush coloring her cheeks. “This is my sanctuary, a place where all creatures, mutant or otherwise, can live in peace. I’ve spent years creating and protecting it. It’s… it’s my home.”

As they walked deeper into the sanctuary, Logan couldn’t help but notice the way the animals greeted Y/N as if she were their queen. She interacted with them lovingly, whispering words of comfort, stroking their fur, and laughing when they nuzzled her affectionately.

But then, they reached a clearing, and Logan’s senses immediately went on high alert. A massive shadow passed overhead, and he looked up just in time to see a gigantic dragon circling above them, its scales shimmering in the sunlight.

The dragon landed with a thud, the ground shaking beneath its weight. It was an ancient, majestic creature with eyes that glowed like molten gold, and it was staring directly at Logan.

“Logan, this is Drakon. He’s one of my oldest friends,” Y/N said, her voice filled with affection as she approached the dragon without a hint of fear. “He’s been protecting this place for centuries.”

Logan nodded, trying to keep his cool, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that Drakon was sizing him up, and not in a friendly way.

“Nice to meet you,” Logan said gruffly, extending a hand. The dragon huffed, a plume of smoke curling from its nostrils, clearly unimpressed.

Y/N laughed, completely oblivious to the tension. “He’s just being protective. Drakon, Logan is my friend. You can trust him.”

The dragon narrowed its eyes, but finally gave a reluctant nod. Still, Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that the dragon didn’t like him very much.

Over the next few hours, Y/N showed Logan around the sanctuary, introducing him to all the creatures and explaining how she had come to find and protect them. Logan listened intently, more captivated by her passion and love for this place than the creatures themselves.

But every time Y/N turned her back, Drakon would make his displeasure known. The dragon would nudge Logan toward a pool of mud, causing him to stumble and fall face-first into the muck, or he’d suddenly swoop down to land between Logan and Y/N, cutting him off and demanding all of her attention.

At one point, Drakon even “accidentally” knocked Logan off a ledge into a thorny bush, earning a surprised laugh from Y/N when she turned around to see Logan tangled in the branches.

“You alright, Logan?” she asked, rushing over to help him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Logan grumbled, glaring up at the dragon, who looked away innocently, a satisfied smirk in its golden eyes.

Logan wasn’t easily intimidated, but this dragon was really starting to get on his nerves.

As the sun began to set, Y/N and Logan sat by the edge of the pool, watching the sky turn shades of pink and orange. Drakon rested nearby, keeping a watchful eye on Logan, though he pretended to be dozing.

“I’m glad you brought me here, Y/N,” Logan said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. “This place… it’s a part of you. I can see why you wanted to protect it.”

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ve wanted to show you for a while now. I trust you, Logan. I know you’d never hurt this place or the creatures here.”

Logan felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. “I wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’. I’ll protect it just like you do.”

They sat in contented silence for a few more moments, but then a voice broke through the peaceful atmosphere.

“Hey, lovebirds! Mind if I join the cuddle fest?”

Logan groaned as Deadpool suddenly appeared from behind a tree, his red and black suit standing out starkly against the natural beauty of the sanctuary.

“What the hell are you doing here, Wade?” Logan growled, his patience wearing thin.

“Oh, you know, just following you guys. Figured you’d need a chaperone. And what do I find? A magical Disney wonderland! Seriously, you guys have been holding out on me!” Deadpool exclaimed, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of the sanctuary.

Before Logan could retort, Drakon let out a deep growl, his eyes narrowing at Deadpool. “Oh, big guy, relax! I’m just here for the hugs and maybe to steal a unicorn for my apartment.”

The dragon let out a jet of flame that narrowly missed Deadpool’s head, causing him to dive for cover behind a boulder. “Yikes! Tough crowd! Guess I’ll stick to pestering Wolverine.”

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y/N, I think we’ve got enough trouble with the dragon. We don’t need him making it worse.”

Y/N giggled, watching as Drakon continued to eye Deadpool suspiciously. “I think Drakon likes you more than Wade, at least.”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, well, I’ll take what I can get.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sanctuary glowing in the soft light of twilight, Logan realized that, despite the dragon’s antics and Deadpool’s unwelcome appearance, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. Here, in this hidden sanctuary, with Y/N by his side, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known in a long time.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d find a way to get along with that damn dragon too… as long as it stopped trying to push him into the mud.

As Logan and Y/N prepared to leave the sanctuary, Wadw trailed behind them, trying to coax a reluctant phoenix into his backpack. Drakon, still suspicious, hovered nearby, ready to intervene if necessary.

“Come on, little birdie, you know you want to—ow! Okay, okay, no stealing the mystical creatures,” Deadpool muttered, nursing a singed hand.

[msnihilist]

Your idea of playing with your dollies is a father sexually abusing his son. And you romanticize it. And before you argue “Yeah but there’s dark content in media that romanticizes it!” Yes, they exist but it does not mean it’s depicted in a positive light. It’s portrayed as scary and traumatizing to the character in question. And while they’re not an actual person, it hits home to victims. There is nothing okay with going “tee hee rape!”

Yep, it sure is! And I sure do :)

"that does not mean it's depicted in a positive light" I'm sorry, did you think that the cannibalism in Hannibal was just ketchup, too, or something? Dark media constantly romanticizes this sort of stuff. The primary relationship in Hannibal is scary and traumatizing, yes, but also romantic. The good ending is that the two toxic lovers eat people together.

Black Butler has two cousins in a romantic relationship, and their engagement is taken very seriously by them both and is in fact a core component of their characters. It's an incestuous relationship played completely straight and taken seriously by the writer and is definitely not scary or traumatizing.

Invincible has a relationship between an immortal man and a girl who is 20 at the most (literally a part of "Teen Team," I doubt she's older than that), and not only is it shown to be healthy, but her death devastates this man, even having lost so many others in his long, long life.

In Futurama, one of the main characters time traveled and fucked (and impregnated) his grandmother. Not only is this not shown to be scary or traumatizing, it's a reoccuring joke, referenced multiple times, and it is plot-important so you can't even explain the underlying plot of the show without mentioning it.

The Coffin of Andy and LeyLey is a horror game, and the good ending is the brother and sister characters fucking each other. Incest is literally good for them.

So, yes, media depicts these topics in a positive light frequently. Do you know why? Because no one cares.

This is all adult content made for adult consumers, and if you need everything you read or watch to tell you that rape and incest are bad, then you are the problem.

Do you know what does hit home to victims? My writing. My best friend is someone I met through my writing. She told me that as someone who had been abused and groomed, my stories where the underage character and the adult get a happy ending make her cry. Why? Because in fiction, I have the power to make this story have a happy ending.

In my fantasy world, the kind adult isn't secretly a predator. There is no power imbalance. The kid can be emotionally mature enough to handle this relationship. The adult can actually be safe and not just a creep. The relationship can last a long time and be safe and happy for the both — because it's not real.

It gives my friend (and victims like her) great comfort to indulge a bit, and imagine that their story could have ended happily, too. Obviously, it couldn't have in reality — that's why my friend is reading about it instead of running back to her abuser.

Stop trying to police fantasy. You are hurting people — harmless thoughts are not.

[kosmicdream]

Hello. After drawing webcomics for 10 years and making about 10,000 pages of comics, here are some things i have learned/observed in that experience..

1) making comics does not get easier.. Not really

Making comics is a tedious and slow process and with so many different facets of the experience to learn - you’ll never run out of stuff to learn or weaknesses to work on. I’m not saying this to discourage but to just give the frank reality that it really takes a lifetime to understand. Be patient with yourself and try to set healthy expectations. 

2) Read your own comics after making them.

I don’t know if this is as important to other people as it is to me, but I do think that sometimes its easy to not re-read your own work and just go from your own memory of it, or maybe you’re tired of looking at it because of all the flaws. I don’t personally get sucked into the “rewrite/remake” cycle that I know is common with comics, as I sort of just accept things as they are, but re-reading my work does help me see where I have come from and where I need to go to next. I personally don’t like to lose sight of that, and I think re-reading helps ground me in the planning process of my work and gives me a better perspective on all aspects.

3) A lot of comic advice should be taken with a grain of salt, because its the person talking to themselves. (including this)

I see a lot of advice that never would have worked for me, or just simply wasn’t something I was ever going to follow. “Dont start with your big epic long stories”! Is a common one. I don’t think that’s bad advice exactly, but how many young artists are going to listen, especially if they’ve never told a story in the first place? Yes, the advice to start small and build yourself up with experience sounds great, I’m sure people do it, but if you’re an artist you’re probably not gonna be that responsible. And for me, when i tried to do this with eggshells, my house burnt down and i kinda gave up comics for a while because i lost a lot of work. 

Writing short stories is still something I struggle with, its just not easy for me. I have gotten better at it but i don’t think that makes me less of a comic artist because I haven’t gotten good at that particular format, or that I jump around on my projects. Is it more impressive to have more completed work under your belt, sure. But I also think that.. Idk.. what is the advice actually saying, because with that one it sort of feels (often times) as a warning that you’re setting yourself up for failure/embarrassment by attempting a comic like that. I don’t know how to tell you this, but comics are gonna be embarrassing no matter what you do and there’s no guarantee you’ll be more successful/not experience failure by avoiding your passions. Something to think about anyway. 

4) Don’t draw every leaf. Unless you really want to.

I’m the kind of comic artist that kind of doesn’t care about the art as much as the whole package of the comic. When i see a very impressively drawn panel/page, with laborious detail that is well drawn and maybe even colored ect.. That usually is kind of, I guess, a turn off for me as part of the reading experience. The thing is, when i encounter that, it usually signals to me that someone has poor planning skills for comics. It says to me that comic is probably not going to see its end or that artist is overworking themselves in an unnecessary way, that ends up concerning me about how they’re doing. Because i know how hard it is to draw comics. When an artist phones things in a bit, or has a limit on how much they work on a page, its a relief for me to see! because I understand they have healthier boundaries and expectations, and the art itself usually is less stiff too. This is all an overgeneralization, but I think with a lot of webcomic artists we are usually drawing a comic for the first time ever, so it makes sense we want to do our best and try as hard as possible - that just usually isn’t the smartest plan to put all the stock in the visual department. This also kinda frustrates me to see because most comics (professional or not) will also (generally) not reel the art in ever or make a more simple style. Generally I see it always trying to outdo itself, which leads to burn out. I personally only work about 1hr on each page i draw, that hasn’t changed in the 10 years I have been drawing comics, but i used to spend hundreds of hours drawing detailed lineart for eggshells and it didn’t even read well and i’d be disappointed with the results, feeling more lost with my goals than ever. PLEASe.. Just draw worse, its usually better looking in the end too. (because you wont have the experience to judge visual clarity until you’ve been drawing comics for a while imo..)

5) Don’t draw ahead, draw those inbetweenies.

“Inbetweenies” are the pages for the “boring” ones. They are also usually the most common KIND of page. Its the pages that are necessary, but “inbetween” the action. The impact moments in a scene, ect. You gotta draw them. They’re always gonna be there. They’re the pages where maybe, the character is walking somewhere, thinking, ect. The after impact from an action.. There’s a million examples, but hopefully you’ll understand what I mean when I say they’re both necessary pages/panels, sometimes so mundane/redundant, but also required for telling the story.. As a comic is a sequence of images. This is why, the previous advice is also important IMO- because if you really want to “draw every leaf” - maybe you should save that energy and effort for those impact moments that you want to impress the reader with.. And not for the inbetweenies, which are the foundational support, but also not the most important moments. If you conserve your energy a bit, the contrast OF that effort will also pop more. I personally find it funny when I put more effort into a page and end up tricking my readers into thinking I got better at drawing, when really i just have been able to draw better and only save it for moments like this instead of always.

Also, when I say don’t draw ahead.. I mean I draw each page at a time before going to the next one. I have no idea if this is an unusual practice or not, and I know a lot of people will draw their chapters/episodes/whatever in sections like sketch/ink/color/ect.. But I personally draw and finish page by page, unless its the thumb/sketch stage. Even then, i don’t go ahead much. I think that you can control flow/pacing better by doing chapters all at once of course, I see that as a benefit. But i also think that makes things very overwhelming and can also result in a lack of flexibility if something isn’t working. No matter HOW much planning you do- comics are always going to have an aspect of IMPROVISATION with the result you get in the end. There are way too many factors in play to be in complete control of all of them and always know the result of the reading experience. SO for me, this technique is easier and has been something that continues to get me to working effectively. Plus, rumiko takahashi said that’s what she does. And i think she has some of the best visual flow/compositions in comics. So that’s what I do.

I could write more personal advice or rules that i follow..but I think those are the ones I find are the most important to me anyway. Of course, comics are a strange medium and not everything that works for me will work for you. That’s all for now.. Bye bye…! 

Oh by the way, my comics are here: feastforaking.com nastyreddogs.com https://kosmic.itch.io/ Support me on patreon! https://www.patreon.com/kosmic

[foreverromanticising]

something, somehow, someday

1.9k words of idiots in love

lando norris x f!reader

(this is kind of rllly bad bc i need to get back into fanfic writing - im a veteran but its been a while! requests open pls send whatever!)

Friday nights always followed the same routine for Lando, he was playing chaueffer. Well, the Friday nights he had off from being Lando Norris Formula 1 Driver. More often than not, he found himself driving around Monaco, playing pick up from different bars with his girl and her friends. 

Calling her ‘his girl’ was loosely strung, she wasn’t his girlfriend by any means, but simply calling her a friend seemed unjust. It didn’t pay any justice to their connection; best friends also seemed far too juvenile for they never knew each other in their childhood years, when the term best friend perhaps would’ve suited them. 

No, they met much later in their lives, Lando’s second or third season in Formula 1, and she just happened to know a friend of a friend, which ended in the two at the same party at the same time. Typical and cliche, they knew it, but they both preferred having an organic story to tell of their meeting rather than having to admit their connection was found on some online algorithm. 

However, it wasn’t that many people asked for their meeting story as they were just friends, plain and simple - asking two friends how they met didn’t hold the same importance as it did for asking a couple. 

Yes, they were friends, if their relationship had to be labelled but in a sweet and sticky sense of friendship. They weren’t friends in the way Max and Lando were friends; a relationship consisting of streaming, gaming, and very platonic activities that would be expected of two friends. Their friendship was abnormal to outsiders but it made perfect sense for them, and why should they listen to anyone else’s opinions?

Lando never found himself waking up with any of his other friends head’s on his bare chest, but with his girl it made perfect sense. The Monaco sun peering through the windows, illuminating highlights within her hair against his tan chest, his arm tightly wound around her waist, and both of their bodies pressed into one side of the bed, despite its huge size. 

This was their normal; they had drawn an invisible line between their friendship and something more, they never dared to cross it but the line definitely grew to become blurrier as time went on.

Hence why, Lando continually found himself in a parked car outside of whatever bar or club she chose to spend her Friday night. He claims he would do this for any friend that would ask him to, he cared about how his friends would make it home, but she had never once asked to be picked up, rather he always offered.

On the outside, Lando made it clear he cared about her making it home safely, there was no reason for her to pay for a taxi when he was happy and available to take her home - a firm believer his driving was far safer than any taxi driver. But, there was a miniscule part inside his beating heart that knew it was more than just her safety. He liked picking her up because it meant she would go home with him.

Him and no one else.

“You’re sure your friends don’t need a lift too?” Lando waited to pull away from the bar until he had a definite answer; just because he was picking up his girl didn’t mean he was going to leave her friends stranded - his offers always extended to whoever she was out with. “You know I’d rather take them than a taxi.”

“I know, Lan, but Alex’s boyfriend’s on his way anyway,” Your lifted your head off of his car window to look over at Lando, sincerity laced within your words. “They’re all gonna stay at her place, it’s just easier.”

“Do you want me to drop you at Alex’s?” He hadn’t known the night out was extending into a girls night, feeling almost guilty for wanting you in his bed, his arms, rather than with your own friends. “You wanna spend the night there?”

“No,’ You let the word drag out, trying to bite back the grin that was threatening to spill over your lips. Unbeknownst to Lando, you wanted to end the night in his arms just as much as he did. “I’m tired and I think I’m done socialising for tonight.”

“Oh, okay. Just back to yours, then?” He had to actively keep his face from allowing a frown to take over after hearing your wish to no longer socialise, he had only assumed this Friday night would be the same as all the others but it appeared you had other plans.

“I mean, it’s kinda out of the way now, isn’t it?” You looked at the street whipping by you, trying to feign nonchalance over the thought of heading back to Lando’s. “Your place is probably easier.”

“Thought you didn’t want to socialise with anyone else tonight.” Lando was also trying to act nonchalant, like he didn’t care, like he hadn’t thought about this Friday night tradition ever since you had woken up in his arms last Saturday morning.

“Yeah but you don’t count.” A smile tugged at your lips as your social battery for others may have been used up, you didn’t think it could ever run out when it came to Lando. You didn’t have to play pretend, or use up much energy around him, if anything he rechargred your batteries. A night with him was exactly what you needed.

He knew exactly what you meant. You two didn’t have to even speak when you were around each other. Comfortable silence was enough to maintain your friendship.

Once Lando had parked his car, you made your way to his apartment, in that comfortable silence you had been craving. This silence followed both of you in the elevator, as he unlocked his front door, as you made your way to your respective drawer in his bedroom to find something to wear to bed, until he found you brushing your teeth and chose to join you. 

It was an image of domesticity; an old quadrant shirt of his draped over your body paired alongside a pair of his basketball shorts, your skincare lining his bathroom counter, your bodies pressed against one another - shoulder to shoulder, just as your pink and blue toothbrushes stood in their holder beside the sink. 

“What’s your plans for tomorrow?” Lando spoke through a mouthful of toothpaste, as thought his question couldn’t wait the two minutes. You poked your elbow into his ribs to shut him up until you had finished brushing your teeth.

“Not sure yet, the girls wanna go for brunch but nothing’s set in stone yet,” You looked at him through his bathroom mirror. “Why? What’re you scheming?”

“Just wondering,” He shrugged his shoulders then turned on his heel, making his way to his bedroom - prompting you to follow him. “Wondering if you wanna come play padel with me and Max tomorrow morning.” 

You watched as he peeled back the covers on his bed, placing an extra pillow onto your unassigned side of the bed because he knew you liked more pillows tha he did. “I think I’ll pass, that sounds sort of hellish to me.” Athletics had never been your thing, never one to actively participate in games, and whilst you loved Max you thought it was best to leave him and Lando their own time without you imposing - though, Lando would insist you could never impose.

“Yeah, that’s alright. Probably good to see him before the double header kicks in,” Lando climbed into his bed, arms open for you to crawl into as he was wasted no time in wanting to hold you close. “You’re still coming to Belguim, yeah?” Hints of uncertainty could be found within his voice, though he tried to hide it, he couldn’t help it. He wanted you there, cheering him on from the sidelines, because he wasn’t sure he could get through the next few races without that light at the end of the tunnel.

“Yeah ‘course.” You didn’t have to give it a second thought; you had already decided after a phone call with his mother, but it must’ve slipped your mind to tell Lando himself. You were more focused on making yourself comfortable against his body, your head taking its him on his chest as his fingertips danced along the sliver of skin that was shown from the way your legs tangled with his under the covers.

Night soond turned into morning, Lando’s alarm blaring through his phone, making him regret any decision to play padel as he felt your body intertwined with his. He had to fight every urge to cancel his plans for the day and instead keep you in his bed, wrapped up in his clothes and his arms and his bedsheets. Would it be too much to ask you to spend another night within seconds of his eyes opening? Perhaps, but he couldn’t bear the thought of spending his nights alone for the next two weeks. 

He had two separate hotel rooms booked for Belgium but he knew that, inevitably, either one of you would cave and pad your away across the hotel to the other hotel room, desperate for the comfort of laying beside one another.

Instead of dwelling on such thoughts, he forced himself to get up for the day, leaving you to rest in his bed whilst he headed out to padel. Not before sending you a quick text to wake up to:

Lan<3

Hey, just headed to padel with Max

I’ll be two hours at most and 

I’ll come home with breakfast

Stay put pretty girl

“Who are you texting?” Max asked as Lando climbed into his car, trying to peer over to see his phone screen but remaining unsuccessful as it was pulled out of his vision.

“No one, you nosey bastard.” Lando turned his phone off, begrudgingly so, and put it into his pocket.

“I know it’s her, don’t play daft,” Max knew everything about Lando and his girl, even if they were too blind to see it. “I know she’s in your bed right now, and I know you’re late ‘cause of it.”

Max knew they were meant to be, even if they didn’t, he knew it - they were taking their time in getting there, in realising that was even a possibility for the two of them. Something pulled them together, somehow they would realise it, and someday they would end up together.

Even if Lando claimed his career was too much for her to handle, only allowing himself short flings with girls that didn’t matter to him, instead of a fulfilling relationship - Max knew she would be able to handle the ins and outs of Lando’s world; she knew how to ground him after a win when his ego allowed him to feel like he was on top of the world, but she also knew how to calm him down when he came to her door upset after a race.

Max didn’t buy into her claims that Lando wouldn’t be with her because their worlds were too different, he knew that was what he wanted. He didn’t want someone who stuck around for his titles and fame, he wanted a welcome sign and a plane ride home.

But Max would never intrude on fate, he was letting them be. They were meant to be, he knew it as well as everyone around them, but he was letting fate run its course for the result would be far more fulfilling than if he meddled with the two sides of the same story he was continually being told. 

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twenty-one

authors note: here it is, friends! i def focused more on the family unit vs friends. i also probably broke some wrestling and wwe protocols/rules. don't care. issa story. let's use our imagination, friends.

hope it lives up to the buildup! low key have had the ending scene written for forever and am so happy to finally have it out.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, angst, and suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 10k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You had a plan.

A wonderfully thought out plan.

A wonderfully thought out plan that was quickly squashed and thrown out the window the moment you stepped foot in your bathroom and glanced at the mirror.

More a stare, but that’s understandable because the last thing you expected to do was wake up to find yourself with a baby bump.

It’s not like your stomach has ever been fully flat, but anyone who’s ever been pregnant knows that a baby bump has a different kind of look. A different kind of feel.

And all of that is wonderful, a major surprise, but it’s also something that ruins your plans entirely because you haven’t even told Callie about your pregnancy.

The plan was for you and Joe to sit Callie down and tell her about the baby, but said baby has decided to make his presence known regardless of your plan.

It’s still mind blowing to you that you’re already showing, and with as much depth to your bump,  at freshly three months. You didn’t even start showing with Callie until you were four months.

There’s no way this isn’t a boy, a boy who’s clearly going to be a big boy just like his daddy.

You try not to think too much about what that might mean delivery wise. 

The excitement and happiness easily sets in as the shock wears off, and you must spend a good ten minutes just admiring the first physical sign of life growing inside of you. 

You can’t wait to tell Joe, but it’s that though that stops you for a second.

This is a beautiful, wonderful development that would be cheapened if shared via technology. Even a FaceTime video feels not special enough. You want to do everything you can to keep these updates for him in person, so a revised plan is quickly created.

Hide it.

Going to Philadelphia where it’s already chilly makes that a little easier, but dodging too much physical interaction with Callie and your mom, who flew in the night before to fly to Philly with you and Callie, isn’t the easiest, but it’s doable.

Just like this plan.

It’s a plan that somehow, by the grace of God, carries you to travel day, to the airport and even the terminal as you touch down in the city of brotherly love.

Because of a lot of different factors, the most important regarding privacy and even safety, Joe doesn’t meet you at the airport. He instead sends a car to meet the three of you, which you’re partially grateful for as it gives you yet one less chance for him to find out about your baby bump indirectly vs you showing him yourself.

Granted, having to hide a baby bump from three of the most important people in your life is no easy task, especially with Callie who loves to be all over you. Which, normally, you don’t mind because you adore her affection, but it’s just redirecting that focus from your abdomen that’s a pain in the ass.

And you get a bit of a pass when not even a good five minutes into the Airbnb, which is nice as hell, Callie’s sweet voice is shouting with all of the excitement she can muster in her tiny little body.

“Daddy!”

Joe rounds the corner of the kitchen island and drops to his knees just in time to catch Callie who throws herself into him. They’re about what and what when it comes to excitement in seeing each other.

It brings a smile to your face. Their love for each other is probably your favorite thing in this whole world.

Joe greets your mom who is already talking about how she needs to go grocery shopping so she can cook, which you’re not entirely opposed to.

The less you have to do involving that, the better.

But, it’s when he comes toward you, you do your best to be subtle with the placement of your hand on his chest to keep that separation as he kisses you. It’s not subtle enough though, because you catch the peculiar look he shoots your way, and you’re certain if not for Callie pulling his attention to the artwork she’d created for him, he’d call you out on the spot.

But Callie always comes first, and you’ve never been more grateful.

It’s that distraction that allows you to sneak upstairs where you easily find the room Joe already has his stuff in. Emptying only some of the contents, you’re mainly only concerned with hanging up your dresses.

And once that’s done, you decide it’s now or never, walking into the living room where Joe is playing with Callie.

“Callie, I need to talk to your daddy real quick.”

As expected, she’s a pouting, protesting mess. “Mommy, nooooo.”

“It’ll be real fast baby, like ten minutes.” Bargaining with your four year old to talk to your boyfriend, who is also her dad….definitely another thing not on your 2024 bingo card.. 

However, this is a semi acceptable temporary swap, but not enough for her to not use her little tablet and literally set a timer for ten minutes.

Rolling your eyes, you wave Joe over. “Girl, you are so dramatic.” She’s clearly been hanging around Alexis too much. You didn’t even know she knew how to do that.

Joe meets you at the bottom of the steps. “Better hurry up, we on the clock.”

It takes tremendous effort not to flip him off. “Shut up.”

The bedroom door is barely closed before he’s asking with all the attitude, “now you gon tell me why you acting funny?”

It’s impossible not to roll your eyes. Nothing gets past this man. “You’re so damn dramatic just like your daughter.” It’s gotta be the light skin in him. “Sit down.” He opens his mouth, probably to say something else smart, but you remind him, “hurry up before she comes beating on the door. You know she loves her daddy time.”

That seems to do it, or at least enough for him to begrudgingly drop his bulky body down on the edge of the bed. Forever impatient, he asks again, “well?”

With another shake of your head, you decide to put this man child out of his misery. Walking over so you’re only a couple inches away from him, your hand moves under the layers of clothing as you lift them over your stomach. 

“This is why I was acting funny.” It’s impossible to hold back the smile on your face at the way his eyes light up with a perfect and expected combination of enjoyment and shock. “Good enough reason?” Naturally, his big hand reaches to feel the swell of your belly, the first physical sign of the child growing inside of you. “I knew you’d feel it if you hugged me, and I didn’t want you to find out that way.”

“You’re showing….” It’s such an obvious statement, but you know it comes from such a special and meaningful place for him. 

“I am,” you answer, watching him continue to rub your stomach, like he’s trying to make sure it’s real, that this is real. “And that’s how I know this is definitely a boy, because I didn’t start showing this much with Callie until I was four, maybe five months.” And you just hit three months officially last week. “Watch him have your big ass ears and feet.”

Joe tugs you closer, lips pressed against your stomach. It makes your heart swell. His gaze then lifts, eyes full of curiosity, “does she know?”

“No. That’s been hard too, trying to hide it from her. Because I refused to tell her without you.” It would literally kill you to deprive him of that opportunity. Even more, you’re not sure you even feel entirely comfortable doing as such. It feels so inherently wrong to do or share anything major like this with her without Joe’s help or input, preferably the former.

“I told you. I’m gonna do everything right this time….” You lean down and kiss his forehead, asking in an equally low voice. “Are you still cool with me going to the awards with you?”

He stares at you with utter confusion “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Shrugging, you explain, intentionally not stating the real reason you’re unsure. He can read between the lines. “Well, my dress is tight and there’s no way in hell you won’t be able to see my bump in it. Any of my dresses for this weekend, really.”

You’re just thankful you can still wear them even with this almost overnight curveball of your belly suddenly extending more. 

Joe’s gaze softens as he lays his hands on your hips, holding you protectively. “Y/N, I haven’t a fucking ounce of desire to try to hide this pregnancy. I don’t want to publicly announce it per se, but I don’t give a fuck who at WWE knows that we’re having another baby. I’m happy about this, over the fucking moon. Let them see you’re pregnant. I don’t care.”

You know this. Deep down, you wholeheartedly know this. But there’s always this annoying string of fear you have have of doing something to mess up or fuck with all of his accomplishments. You know how much he went through to get to where he is, and you’d never ever do anything to risk that.

“Okay.” His reassurance means a lot to you. It’s exactly what you need. With a sigh, you ask, curious and hopeful, “so, can we tell Callie about the baby now and then let my mom see I’m showing?” 

“Of course, baby, whatever you want.” 

His agreement was a given, but it’s still a massive relief. “Thank you cause wearing all these clothes got me sweating and shit, and hiding it from my mom has been really hard.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t even start that shit. One of us has to be employed.” You move for the door to call Callie when he stops you. “Yes?”

His big hands snake around to your ass, giving a gentle yet firm squeeze. “I prefer you in nothing anyway.”

Ugh. Tonight can’t come fast enough. “You’re so nasty….” You love it, though. Besides, It’s been way too long. Stealing a kiss, you walk over and open the door, calling out, “Callie! Come here, baby!”

This little girl comes speeding up the stairs and runs into the room, instantly jumping back onto Joe who makes a fake grunt sound as he falls back on the bed with her on his chest.

“Sis, if you don’t stop all that running…..” The older she gets, the more it seems like she has all this energy she doesn’t know what to do with. Ya’ll should be putting her in gymnastics instead of ballet.

“Baby………” Her giggles die down as Joe stops tickling her, sitting up and kissing her temple, eyes closing for a bit. He missed her so much. “You remember how grandma told you where babies come from?”

She nods, happily explaining as if you and Joe need a refresher on this topic. “Jesus tells the angels to put a baby in a mommy’s belly, so the baby can have a mommy and daddy.”

It’s not exactly the type of explanation you would have given, but you also don’t know if you could have done much better with such a question being asked on the spot like that. So, it’ll do for now.

“That’s right.” No need to take her little joy at that clear, concise explanation she’s clearly proud of. Even if it’s a bit…..off. “And we got the best baby in all of baby heaven.” You bop her nose and she giggles. “But Calista….the angels came to see mommy again.”

You can see that she’s partially picking up what you’re implying, but it’s Joe who does the honors of sharing the outright news. He angles her, so she’s looking at him as wel. “Your mommy and I are having another baby, Callie Bear,” Joe explains as you lift your garments again to show Callie your stomach. “You’re gonna be a big sister.”

She gasps loudly and points. “Mommy! Your tummy is bigger!”

Laughing, you explain, “that’s right. It’s gonna keep getting bigger because that means the baby is growing.”

Your eyes water as she reaches over to feel on your stomach, happily exclaiming, “I’m gonna have a baby sister!”

Laughing, you remind her, “or brother.”

She doesn’t seem to hear or care too much about that, immediately asking the two of you, “can I play with the baby?”

Joe handles that one, answering so effectively “when she or he gets a little older, yes, but not when they’re still really little because you have to be really careful with babies.”

“When is the baby coming?”

“September.”

She’s instantly annoyed, crossing her arms. “That’s a really long time!”

Both you and Joe laugh at that one as you readjust your clothes, “it’ll go by really fast. Trust me.” Leaning over, you ask her, already knowing the answer ahead of time. “You wanna help me and your daddy tell grandma about the baby?”

Your mom already knows about the pregnancy, but this will be her first time seeing your bump. Beyond that, you know she’ll play dumb for the sake of not wanting to deter Callie’s excitement. 

She freaking cheers, fists raised and everything as she hops off Joe’s lap and reaches for both of your hands. “Come onnnnn.”

Obliging Callie, each of you holding one of her hands, Joe shoots you a look, conveying all of his happiness and love.

And you reciprocate it right back.

Life is so damn good right now.

———-

The Hall of Fame awards is definitely a night to remember, starting with all of the hoopla that comes with the preparation. Kaylah comes over to Joe’s Airbnb to get ready with you, which is appreciated. Of course, Alexis comes over from her hotel as well. It ends up being a fun girls thing with you actually noticing and missing the presence of Bianca and Trinity, though you know Bianca’s flight doesn’t come in until tomorrow morning and logistically, it’s just easier for Trin to get ready at her and Jon’s Airbnb.

Still, it’s a bit of an ordeal squeezing into your gown. Out of the three dresses you purchased for the weekend’s events, the Hall of Fame number was already the most snug prior to your bump appearing almost overnight. Thankfully, it’s workable, and it does look good on you still. It’s just, obviously, tighter in the stomach area than you would have liked. 

There’s no way in hell people won’t be able to see you’re pregnant. Ain’t enough bloating in the world.

But, the minute you walk down those steps, and Joe lifts his attention from the phone in his hand, you’re reminded again how unbothered he is by the fact that most of his colleagues in the WWE will know that you two are expecting. The gentle way he cradles your bump and equally gentle kiss against your forehead as he assures you how beautiful you look washes away any and all anxiety. 

And it’s just the cherry on top when Callie gushes over how much you look like a Disney princess. There are additional compliments, but the ones from your two favorite people in this entire world easily snatch the top spot. 

There’s a bit of renewed anxiety when arriving at the actual awards, but Joe’s hand is firmly around yours, never once loosening or his grip slipping. That makes a world of difference to you. The anxiety is also depleted by the fact that the two of you, which makes a lot of sense, are seated by the twins. Being around Kaylah and Trinity is so relieving, and Trin nearly tackles some female wrestlers when she runs over to hug you, feeling on your bump. You really missed her.

Her energy is so infectious.

She even manages to convince you and Kaylah to make a couple TikToks with her in the bathroom before the ceremony begins, one of them being some apparent trend the clock app has started based upon the whole Mariah fiasco. You don’t really understand it, but Hollaback Girl is that song, so you go with it freely and play the role well.

It’s their presence, along with the twins even, that keeps you comfortable and relaxed when Joe has to leave toward the end of the night to prepare for his induction speech for Paul Heyman. And when your man’s music hits, followed by him walking out a few minutes later, you’re grateful you’re already with child, cause he most definitely would be putting a baby in you tonight. Joe is just an insanely attractive human being, but that black suit, the swagger, the confidence, it’s all a dangerous combination. 

He looks so damn good. As embarrassing as it is, it’s hard for you to pay attention to his actual speech. You’re certain it’s just as good as he looks, but your pregnancy hormones have accelerated your sex drive more than typical because all you can think about is his beautiful, long, thick dick inside of you, filling you to the brim in the way that only he can.

There’s a couple of shifts in your seat during said speech as well.

And, of course, this fine ass motherfucker notices because he notices everything. It takes your entire arsenal of self-control not to punch him when he rejoins you, casually whispering in your ear, “you need me to take care of that for you, mama?”

You hate him. 

But, you also love him.

Still hate him though.

Not enough to nearly jump his bones the minute the two of you are alone in the back of the SUV. Not even the length of your dress can get in the way of you spreading your thighs across his lap. His thick, spread legs allow you to feel the bulge of him against your center. It nearly makes you come right then and there, fully clothed and all.

“When we get back to that house….”

He chuckles, deep voice purring in your ear as his hand slips under your dress, pushing aside your panties to tease those deliciously talented fingers across your already wet folds. “What? Tell daddy what you want, baby.” You squeeze his shoulders as he dips two fingers in, and it takes everything in you not to moan out his name. “You want this pussy in my mouth? Hmm. Want daddy’s dick inside you?”

You can’t bring yourself to speak, just furious nodding against his shoulder as his fingers make a hitherto motion inside you, your pussy contracting against him.

It’s fucking disgusting how pathetic you are for this man, how all your defenses crumble and shatter just from one fucking touch.

And it’s embarrassing as hell when the driver opens the car door, and you have to quickly reorient yourself as Joe yanks his fingers out of you, leaving you just as much a mess but an incognito mess.

Yeah…..you really do hate this man.

Just not enough to nearly be ready to run up the stairs and rip his clothes off the minute you step back into the Airbnb.

But, that’s only a dream, a hope, a fantasy.

Because you two are met with the peacefully sleeping, tiny body of none other than Callie right smack dab in the middle of your and Joe’s bed.

You’ve never in your entire life been both so awestruck and devastated at the exact same time. 

For a brief, embarrassing moment, you consider asking Joe to fuck you in the bathroom. You’re just that feral for him, but logic quickly rushes back in, and you’re sickened by just the idea of having sex literally feet away from where your daughter sleeps. Locked door or not. 

It’s a bummer, for sure, but you and Joe adjust accordingly, able to actually undress and shower together without giving into carnal temptations for the sake of your little girl…..your cock blocking little girl, but still your little girl.

And truthfully, it all balances out the moment you and Joe slide in bed, keeping Callie in the middle to not disturb her, because you’re filled with so much happiness having all of your family together.

That…..that is what’s most important to you.

———-

Social Media-Verse

ROMAN REIGNS AND Y/N OFFICIAL THREAD:

OP: Ya’ll!!!! Y/N is pregnant. Some videos and photos got leaked from the WWE Hall of Fame awards, and she was there with Roman sporting a very obvious baby bump. 

User 1: I swear this shit been more entertaining than that “who did I marry” TikTok storytime. Congrats, though!

User 2: It’s 2024. Why are we still commenting on whether people are or are not pregnant? She could just be bloated. 

User 3: @/user2: ……you clearly have no kids. That’s very much a baby bump. There’s even a clip of Trinity (Naomi) running up and rubbing her stomach. Same with Roman. Sis is pregnant lol

User 4: Wow! I wonder how far along she is? Looks maybe four or five months. Congratulations to them. Their daughter is so stinking cute. I know this new baby will be too.

User 5: So was she dealing with all that bullshit while pregnant? Wow, that’s rough. No wonder she started crying on the live. That’s gotta be a lot.

User 6: I know this has been said but my God, she is gorgeous. The silk press. The melanin. The body. She really gives off 90s Gabby Union beauty. Roman got a bad one for sure.

User 7: Ya’ll seen that viral TikTok of them from last night when they were walking in? The one with that Million Dollar Baby song? Someone added a slow-mo filter, and I swear it awakened the bisexual in me. I don’t know who I want to fuck more: him or her.

User 8: @/User7: I mean both is an option…. 

User 9: Seeing the lil clips of them interacting, I’m not surprised sis is knocked up again. I know he be folding her like a pretzel. You can tell he talks her through it. 

User 10: I know I saw a few fonts were skeptical of Jadah and Y/N’s story, but we’ve seen this man speak up for and step out with Y/N more than we ever did with Jadah. It’s obvious they were telling the truth. He may have been married to Jadah, but his heart is clearly and has always been with Y/N. The actions speak for themselves. 

User 11: I still can’t believe we got to watch and witness this whole ordeal for free. 

User 12: I wonder if she’ll be at WM? 

User 13: @/user12: you know she will be. If she’s at the HoF, I can’t see her not being there, since she’s already in Philly. I just wonder if he’ll have her ringside again?

User 12: @/User13: I doubt it. Not after everything that’s gone down. There’s a lot of psycho weirdos in the wrestling community. She’ll probably be in a suite like Kaylah was last year (Jey’s wife) with the kids just for safety reasons.

User14: I think it’s wild how people have really romanticized this Brad/Angelina/Jennifer bullshit. She fucked, got pregnant by, and stole a woman’s whole husband but we’re on here talking about ‘oh, but she’s pretty’ and giving her a pass? This generation is guttersnipe filled. 

User 15: @/User14: Have you caught up on the whole story? Y/N’s ex ‘best friend’ lied about a ton of shit. Yeah, Jadah was his wife, but she herself acknowledged it was an open marriage with Roman. I think she even said she doesn’t like calling it a marriage because she never loved him and always saw them more as roommates. It’s actually a sad situation in a lot of areas, but all parties were consenting. Not necessarily orthodox, but also not anything to judge and persecute over. Two people met, fell in love, and started a family. What’s so wrong about that?

User 16: Here come the Bitter Betty’s. Ain’t ya’ll the same ones that was saying he was about to start hiding Y/N and their daughter with blankets and shit like Michael? Still waiting on that, btw. 

User 17: I went through his whole IG feed and found not one personal/non-kayfabe post EXCEPT for the one he made about the situation. He’s also now openly taken Y/N to an event, something we never saw with the ex-wife. This man is private as hell but hasn’t hesitated to make it clear he’s not hiding her for shit. I suspect they won’t be as public with their kids, but that makes all the sense. He clearly does love her, though.

User18: Trinity uploaded a TikTok of her and Y/N lip singing to Hollaback girl!!! Ya’ll she’s seen the trend! Omg I am DECEASED! Y/N knows what’s up! Hey girl! If you up here and you and Roman ever want a third person, I’m available.

User19: @/User18: Wait, I’m confused. Please clue me in.

User 20: @/User19: So basically someone dug up a photo of Y/N and Mariah when they cheered together and Mariah is giving a low key shady expression. Someone then made a video with the photo followed up with photos and clips of Y/N looking amazing. Lol. It started a trend, and they added the song Hollaback girl since Y/N was cheer captain, and allegedly, Mariah ass was always jealous because she wanted to be captain but was a ‘hollaback girl’ . Hope that makes sense. Kind of hard to explain. Just type in ‘Y/N Hollaback Girl’ and you’ll see a flood of videos. lol

———-

It’s still somewhat unclear to you just why you expected to spend a lot of time at the house with your mom and Callie. Or with Alexis, Bianca, Kaylah, etc. 

You just figured that while Joe invited you two out to see and spend time with him, the actual time spent would be minimal due to how crazy busy he must be.

Boy, were you wrong.

Joe is up early and therefore has you, your mom, and Callie up early to come with him to Lincoln Field.

The actual site of where WrestleMania will be.

Confused but also excited, you don’t hesitate to get ready, the three of you out the door in no time.

It’s pretty freaking cool seeing the field all set up and prepared for WrestleMania. There are some minor areas they’re clearly still working on, but seeing everything before the seats are filled and the lights come on is an experience. 

It’s an experience especially for Callie too who hangs onto every word Joe says to her in his  explanation of different things for her fifty million questions. She also, quite literally, hangs onto him physically, whether it’s him holding her hand as he walks and shows her around or holding her as he walks and shows her around.

Truthfully, you feel like a bit of a third wheel, invading their daddy daughter bonding, because your mom eventually goes to sit down somewhere complaining about her feet hurting or some other excuse. Joe does his best to keep you included, but Callie makes it clear she is number one on the attention list for this trip. And that’s okay. It’s more than okay, because she should and will always come first. 

If anything, it allows you to snap a bunch of photos and take videos, something you made sure to ask Joe you can do before turning into Annie Leibovitz. It’s just too great an opportunity to pass up, to not capture these moments with them, this amazing experience and blending of two of his greatest achievements in this life. 

And pregnancy emotions are at an all time high, because there’s no reason for you to get so emotional at the sight of him holding Callie, her head laid peacefully against his shoulder as he talks to people like Tripple H and Paul Heyman, his fucking coworkers and boss, like it’s nothing. And neither man, to your knowledge, says anything about it either which isn’t entirely surprising.

Joe always speaks highly of Paul, an eccentric character but genuinely nice man, something you can tell right away from Joe’s introduction of the two of you at the Hall of Fame. Same with Triple H, Hunter, as he said to call him. You’re especially grateful and happy to meet him, as Joe has expressed how Hunter taking the reins from Vince has resulted in the wrestler’s having more time off to be with family. 

Hunter has made it possible for Joe to be able to come and see you and Callie as much as he has over the months.

That’s going to make a huge, beneficial difference in the next couple of months.

For obvious reasons.

Meanwhile, while Y/N spends time with her little family, taking in this beautiful moment. Y/N’s mom sits down. She sits and watches along with Kaylah and Bianca (who’d joined the group about an hour ago) the adorable interaction of her daughter’s growing little family.

The older woman, studying her daughter especially, comments in a leading manner, like she’s trying to hint at something without outright saying it, “that’s a defined baby bump to only be three months….”

Kaylah turns to Y/N’s mom, agreeing, “I know, that’s what I was thinking too, but she’s definitely three months. She said the OB/GYN confirmed her conception date at the appointment when she found out.”

“She looks four months. Maybe even five….” Y/N’s mom looks over at Bianca and Kaylah. “We’re all mothers, have experienced pregnancy….”

“Yes ma’am.” Bianca and Kaylah confirm as the older woman sighs, tapping her painted nails against the side of her face.

“You know what I’m thinking?”

And just like that, they do. Bianca gasps as Kaylah asks in a lowered voice, “you don’t think she—”

“We can’t rule it out. Look at her.” Y/N’s mom gestures across the way, quickly asking for clarification purposes. “Don’t they run on Joseph’s side of the family?”

Kaylah nods, still trying to wrap her head around the insinuation alone. “Yeah, but I could have sworn I read years ago it comes more from the mother’s side. Do ya’ll have—”

The oldest of the three women shakes her head, killing at least that chance. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Bianca makes a face, prompting Y/N’s mom to ask, “what?”

She’s clearly hesitant but eventually shares, “we have a couple on my dad’s side.”

At that, Kaylah gasps again, slapping her hand over her mouth. “We should tell her.”

“No, no, no. We don’t want to get her all worked up.” Y/N’s mom quickly shoots down that idea, knowing her daughter well enough to know that wouldn’t turn out well. “We could be wrong—unlikely—but still. She told me they’ll hear the heartbeat at her appointment on Monday. We’ll find out then.”

Bianca blows out a breath. Talk about a plot twist. “Lord, if we’re right….she gon’ kill that man.”

No one disagrees with her statement either.

———-

WrestleMania Day one arrives, and to the surprise of literally no one, Joe and Josh arrange for you all to be in a suite that’s just as nice, if not nicer, than the one at the Super Bowl. 

It’s spacious enough for the lot of you which includes yourself, your mom, Callie, Alexis, Bianca and her fam as well as Kaylah and the kids. It’s actually really nice to have such a commodius area so that the girls can all distract themselves with each other and devices when the actual match starts. The older kids, however, are fully invested in watching Wrestling’s biggest night: part one. 

Once again, Joe surprises you by how present and involved he is with you and Callie. She spends a portion of the beginning of the night with him, Joe once again explaining some of the logistics in such a simple and easy for her to understand manner.

He’s so good with her, so patient, so adept at meeting her on her level.

And Callie, of course, loves every second of it, latches onto every word that leaves his mouth. Again, you’re snapping photos of the interactions, a trip to Walgreens to get them printed is one of the first things on your to do list post-Disney.

You’re especially over the moon when you capture the moment Callie gives Joe a special drawing she created for him depicting him standing in the middle of the ring, raising his belt with WrestleMania and ‘Acknowledge Me’ written at the top of the page.

She might or might not have asked for your help with the spelling.

He’s so touched by this, and Callie is ecstatic when he tapes it on the wall of his locker room. It’s also the cutest fucking thing how she yells out “good luck, daddy!” as security escorts the two of you back to the suite. 

You may have once been his biggest fan, but she’s clearly snatched that title from you with all the quickness.

But while you were prepared to get comfortable in the suite, catching up on girl talk with the ladies once Callie, Taylor, and Ellie got situated with their tablets, that plan is quickly down the drain when security is back and telling you that Joe has asked for you to join him.

That confuses the shit out of you, because he should be getting ready. Why is he asking for you?

And you tell him as such the minute you’re face to face again.

Arms crossed, you force yourself ignore how fucking good he looks and the urge you have to lick a perfect trail down his defined six pack. “Not sure if you’re aware of this, but you’re on the clock, babe. Tick Tock.” He chuckles and walks over, hand to your stomach. “Seriously, Joe, why am I here?”

He answers it so simply, like it should be obvious. “I want you here, so you’re here.”

Looking around, it’s hard not to notice the crew, the cameras, and everything else that makes you feel even more out of place. “Baby, am I allowed to be back here?”

He ignores that question, light brown eyes trailing over you from head to toe. “Damn, you look good.”

He’s not wrong. 

Makeup on point. Silk press pressing to the gods. Your outfit is just the icing on an already delicious cake. The dress is even more flattering than your gown from the Hall of Fame, baby bump and all.  And even though it’s cold as shit outside, the building is relatively well-insulated and beyond that, looking your best on such a big night for the man you love takes precedence over comfort and temperature.

“I’m not gonna distract you?” And then he flexes, a subconscious act that has you licking your lips. “Or maybe you’ll distract me….”

Joe smiles and takes your hand. “Come on.” He begins to lead you out of the room, the camera crew following closely, and for a minute, you panic because it’s obvious he’s eased back into his Roman role. Talking his shit as he walks down a hall that’s far from barren, literal fucking Philladelhia Eagles cheering for him while he saunters with all the confidence in the world, never once releasing your hand.

It’s such a strange yet overwhelmingly good feeling for him to be unabashed about you and his love for you. On one of the biggest nights of his career, amidst all the drama and chaos, he has you, front and center, proudly right by his side.

That’s why you also tap back into your “It Girl” era, easily matching his aura and energy because while he may look good as hell in all areas, so do you. 

You’re very much equally yoked.

Joe moves ya’ll into a gym area that’s laid out perfectly with weights and equipment for him to pump before the match. 

The crew departs for a little while, offering a reason that sounds legitimate enough, but you’re also not that interested or concerned. You’re just happy to have some alone time with Joe.

Leaning back against a stack of mats, you ask him as he starts lifting. “I ever tell you the story about the time Callie called herself running away from home?” The horrified look on Joe’s face is hilarious, so you quickly assure, “relax, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“You just told me our four year old ran away from home…..” When he says it like that, it does sound kind of bad. “What the hell did you do to my little girl?”

Rolling your eyes, you jump right into the explanation, unsure about just how much time you have before the match kicks off. “She's always been a really sweet, easy kid, with the exception of cleaning up after herself. That’s why I always tell you to make her clean because I had a hard time drilling that in her head.” To his credit, he has gotten better with it. “So this was a couple of months before you came back in the picture. I’d been telling her if she didn’t start cleaning up her toys, I was gonna limit her Disney time.”

He’s visibly irritated, switching to the barbell. “That’s foul, Y/N. You know how much my baby loves Disney.”

“That’s exactly why I had to use it. It has to be something she cares about. Anyway, it finally reached a point where I had enough, and told her no Disney for three days. It wasn’t even a week.”

Just recalling the experience brings a humored smile to your face. “Her lil dramatic ass threw a fit and said she was running away to live with grandma. Now, my mom was already coming over to pick her up for the weekend, so I wasn’t too worried. I told her to do what she had to do.” Plus, as a literal four year old, it’s not as if she would ever have the privacy and chance to run away for real.

“So she took a couple things, stuffed them in her lil yellow suitcase, and marched her cute self down the steps to where my mom was waiting for her in the car, cause I had called her to let her know what was happening when sis was throwing her lil tantrum.”

“You upset her. How’d you expect her to react?” You decide to let that lil comment pass. It’s only a matter of time before he finally gets to experience Callie throwing a fit for himself. Then, he’ll get it. 

“I go down the steps to bring my mom Callie’s booster seat, and before she can even get it buckled in, my mom tells Callie that before they can play, she needs help cleaning up the house.” You start laughing, shaking your head. “And when I tell you that lil’ girl did such a 180. All of a sudden, she’s latched onto my leg, telling me she’s sorry, she wants to stay with me, she’ll clean anything I tell her, the works. It was hilarious.”

He’s also laughing, hands on his hips in between a set. “She’s definitely strong willed. She gets it from you.”

“She gets it from us,” you correct, intentionally emphasizing the last word. Calista is the perfect combination of the both of you, the product of your love and the resilience of said love. “Come on.” You straighten up and motion to the weights. “I’ll count you off.”

His brow lifts curiously, “coming out of retirement for me?”

You suck your teeth, redirecting him. “Shut up and get to lifting, Roman.”

The crew returns not too much longer after you start helping him track sets and reps, but it doesn’t stop the conversation. You can’t tell if him taking to and with you is something to maybe curb nerves or if he just genuinely wants to talk to you. Neither makes a difference because you enjoy this time together, for a variety of reasons. From being able to see and be around this monolithic of a man shirtless, sexy as hell, shared tattoo of your daughters name viewable for all to see, on both of you, to just having ‘one on one’ time to interact as two people in love. 

It’s just really fucking nice. 

And when it’s just about time for him to go out, he’s gone for a couple of minutes to pray and wet his hair and body before returning looking somehow even sexier. 

It should be a goddamn sin to be that fine. 

Emotion fills you up as you’re allowed the privilege of placing the ula fala around his neck, something prompted and encouraged by Paul. It’s such a special moment that you don’t take lightly. 

“Hey.” You reach for his beard, forcing his gaze on you as you feed last minute encouragement into him. “You got this, alright? Stay in the moment. Keep your focus. Do what you do best. Go out there and kill it.”

He nods, his hand gently rubbing your bump, lips lingering against your forehead as he murmurs, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He gives you one last look and moves to walk out on the stage, Paul following right behind him. 

Using the monitors in the Gorilla position, you watch with all the pride in your body as he walks out, so powerful and authoritative. It’s so painfully clear how in his element he is.

He really was made for this shit. 

Once he’s in the ring, you have security escort you back to the suite, Callie nearly tackling you with a plethora of questions regarding if you saw “daddy’s walk” and if you “acknowledged him.”

She adores that man so much, and it makes your heart swell. 

There’s a bit of disappointment on her end at not being allowed to watch the match, but it’s eased by playing with her cousins. 

And together, you and the other ladies are able to enjoy the match, both enjoyable yet stressful for you in particular. You’re not sure if you’ve ever told Joe that there’s always a bit of anxiety on your end when he’s competing. 

It pisses you off to no end when people try to say wrestling is all “fake.” There’s a lot of things that’s scripted, but those fucking hits and falls are real as hell. Ain’t shit fake about that. And Joe is so good at selling shit, it’s sometimes hard not to freak out.

Especially this match, as it's physical as hell, which is understandable given the contenders.

But holy hell, do they all put on a show. 

As expected, Joe and Dwayne win, meaning night two will be Bloodline Rules with Joe officially securing his latest accomplishment with having the most Main Events at WrestleMania of all time. 

You’re so proud of him. 

And Callie, as always, is through the moon when she finds out her daddy came out with the win. She’s speeding down the hall when Dwayne and Joe walk backstage, Joe easily handing Paul his belt to catch Callie in a hug. 

You let them have their moment, laughing as Callie calls out to Dwayne, “congratulations, cousin Maui!” It makes everyone in the hearing vicinity laugh, really.

Joe walks over, still holding Callie with one arm and leans down to kiss you. Naturally, you reach up and push some of his hair back. God, you love when it gets like this, wild and untamed. It reminds you of when you two—“how are you feeling?” 

He gives a default answer that most men provide cause they’re stubborn as hell. “I’m good.”

“Liar. I saw that face you made getting out the ring.” This man’s back gotta be killing him.

He chuckles and squeezes your hip. “I’m good, baby.”

Having to just take his word for it, you two spend a couple more minutes with him before Joe is off to get cleaned up for a press conference.

He says it won’t take long, but that you can take Callie back to the Airbnb since it’s so late if you want. That’s nice in theory, but you know Callie would like to wait for him, would probably throw a fit if she has to leave without her daddy. So, you opt to just wait for him in the SUV as everyone else has already started leaving, your mom included, who is already on her way back to the house. 

These people really can’t hang.

Granted, you’re fighting back sleep too, adrenaline finally dying down. 

So maybe you can’t hang either.

You’re walking with Callie, flanked by the security team who will escort you to the SUV when Callie turns her head, listening for something, clearly.

This child must have exceptional hearing, or maybe Joe’s naturally deep, baritone voice has traveling abilities that exceed what is normal. Because she certainly hears him, your own hearing only latching onto him saying something about “use your feet.”

And before you can stop her, Callie is on the move.

“Callie!”

“Daddy!” is all you hear before you’re maneuvering through the two guards who just allow her to dash away in the direction of Joe's voice. You can only move so fast, your slightly swollen feet starting to feel the pain from these damn high heels.

So by the time you reach her, calling her name in an almost urgent whisper, it's already too late.

She’s walking onto the mini stage where Joe is conducting his press conference. Turning his head to the side where she entered, his eyes immediately land on Callie, and it amazes you how easily he switches from Roman to Joe.

A small smile is on his handsome face as he moves back in his chair a bit and opens his arms to her. Naturally, she climbs into his lap, hugging him, head on his shoulder. 

There’s a chorus of awes from the reporters, and you watch as Joe gently rubs her back and kisses her temple. He whispers something in her ear, and she lifts her head to look at him. They share some kind of unspoken exchange as he helps her back onto the ground where she quickly makes her way back over to you.

Instantly, you grab her hand. “Calista, baby, you cannot run off like that.” It’s hard to be too stern with her when she, technically, just went to see her dad.

And she says as such, explaining with all of the innocence, “I wanted to see daddy.” 

A quick glance up and you see Joe shoot you a wink before he’s back in his Roman headspace, making a smartass comment. 

You chuckle. 

She just wanted to see her daddy.

———-

You’re in the middle of a very good dream that’s interrupted prematurely by tugging on your shirt that you’re all too familiar with. Blinking eyes are met with the sleepy and almost sad face of an awake Calista.

Instantly, you’re forcing yourself to lean up as much as you can with Joe’s big arm securely wrapped around you, his hand on your stomach. He’s snoring lightly, enjoying well deserved sleep after a rough night of brutal physicality.  “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I can’t sleep….”

And right from that, you know it’s because she has something on her mind. She gets that from you.

“Come here, baby girl.” You pat the empty space on the bed next to you and wait for her to crawl on the mattress where you lay the covers over her to help keep her warm. “What ya thinking about?”

She’s on her back, playing with her fingers as you brush your thumb over her forehead. “Tomorrow is our last day with daddy……” It’s what you were guessing but definitely not what you wanted to hear.

“You’re sad cause you don’t wanna leave, huh?” She says nothing but nods slowly. A heavy sigh leaves you as you juggle your options here. You want so badly for the element of surprise to be kept and maintained, as is Joe’s preference. But, it’s hard to stick with that when your little girl is lying here sad, unable to sleep because she thinks she’s not gonna see her dad again for X amount of time. You try to think of how Joe would want you to respond.

Quickly, you realize he’d want you to do whatever you need to do to take away her sadness.

“Can you keep a secret? You can’t tell anyone. It’s just between you and me, okay?” She’s visibly confused but again nods, acknowledging understanding. “Daddy wanted to surprise you, but he’s flying home with us tomorrow night, and he’s gonna spend the whole week off with us.” 

Her eyes light up, that frown quickly morphing into a smile. “Really!”

You laugh, shushing her even though Joe could sleep through WW3. Not to mention how beat he must be from the match. “Yes, but you gotta pretend like you don’t know when he tells you, okay?”

She nods and exclaims happily, “a whole week. That’s a long time!”

Her saying that suddenly pulls out some sadness from you. Joe has never even been able to spend a full week with his daughter. It’s definitely a bitter thing that you don’t allow yourself to dwell on too much.

“Yes ma’am.” You bring your hand to her bonnet, asking in a soft voice, “does that make you feel less sad?” She nods just as quietly, and you lean over to kiss her forehead. “Good.” 

As expected, she asks gently, “can I sleep with you guys?”

It’s an easy answer. “Of course, baby.” 

She turns her body toward and into you, eyes closing minutes later, followed by subsequent, peaceful sleeping. You follow shortly after, a new, different kind of dream. 

Not as inappropriate. 

Just as happy.

———-

Night Two of WrestleMania rolls around, and immediately, something is different.

Something feels…..off.  It’s very similar to night one in a lot of ways, primarily the schedule and flow of things, along with Joe interacting a lot with you and Callie, as much as he can, at least.

But, he seems off. Like there’s something on his mind that he refuses to admit and/or share.

Everything is almost identical to the first night, essentially the same schedule with you, Joe, and Callie spending time together before he sends you back to the suite with Callie to get her set up with her cousins.

Then he calls back for you about 20 to 30 minutes before the start of the match, and that’s when you really feel it.

He’s in his head a bit, and you can tell by the fact he isn’t as talkative, not distant, just….off.

Waiting until he finishes his set, you walk over and take his hand. “Joe, are you okay?”

There’s an instant dismissal. “I’m fine.” He asks, curious. “Why?”

Shrugging, you’re not sure how to explain it and express as such. “I don’t know…..something just feels off. You seem almost somber.”

“I’m fine, I promise, okay?” He moves his hand to the back of your neck, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His eyes take you in. “I really like this dress.”

Small smile on your face, it’s not enough to distract you from your concern, but it’s appreciated. You definitely saved the best dress for the final night. “It’d look even better on the floor.”

He makes a face, and you giggle. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“You’ve always known this about me,” you point out, sassily but also truthfully. Your freakiness, and his as well, was what naturally connected you two. Everything else that came after seems ordained at this point, like it was always meant to be. “Now stop trying to change the subject.”

He sighs loudly, offering a crumb. “I’m a bit tired, but I’m fine.”

“I know you’re exhausted, baby.” Frowning, you lift your hand to his cheek, beard prickly against your palm. “I really wish you would just take this week to rest. We can do Disney next month. I love Disney, Callie does too, but we love you more and care about your wellbeing more than the fucking mouse.” 

It’s true. Nothing matters more to you than the wellbeing of all your family members, and especially Joe with how taxing his job already is. 

He shakes his head, moving his other hand to your stomach. “I’ve waited too long already. I’m not waiting anymore, Y/N.”

His words confuse you, truly, because Disney only came up a couple months ago. What’s another month? “Joe—”

“Do you trust me?”

There’s a delay, not because you have to think about it, but because you know he’s about to shut this conversation down. 

Voice soft but sure, you answer, “of course, I trust you, Joe.”

His gaze and expression soften as he affirms, “then trust I know what I’m doing, and I’m doing what I want to do.”

This sucks. Knowing there’s something he’s not telling you but that it’s clearly for good reasons. Still, being in the dark doesn’t rub you the right way. But, the last thing you want to do is have him in his head more than he already is, so you agree to drop it..

“Okay.” It’s not okay, but it’ll have to be okay for now. 

It’s the same as before, seeing him out, the I love you’s between the two of you seeming a bit more meaningful, a lot heavier. Even watching his spectacular and majestic entrance, the camera panning on his face as he lifts his belt, you can’t shake that feeling that something doesn’t feel right.

———-

One

Two

Three

It doesn’t register. Not immediately, anyway. You know Joe, err, Roman. He’s adept at missing the pin by a margin of a millisecond, and you expect this to be no different, except it is.

Because Cody pins him.

He actually fucking pins him.

So many thoughts are racing through your head. The entire match had you on the edge of your seat, your mom, Bianca, and even Alexis having to remind you several times that Joe knows what he’s doing and everything will turn out fine. 

It doesn’t help when Callie falls asleep, because then you can be a bit more expressive and open about your anxiety. 

And then he’s fucking pinned. 

Racing thoughts easily morph into heightened anxiety when the major thought focuses and clears up in your mind, obvious as fucking day.

Something is wrong.

You know enough about wrestling through your own fan interest and conversations with Joe that most matches are predetermined. However, there are times when the outcome is changed at the last minute, mostly due to unexpected serious injury.

And that’s what your mind lands on: Joe is injured. Enough to where they had to change the outcome of the match.

And that causes panic to rise throughout your whole body.

Moving carefully as Callie is sleeping peacefully on your lap, you ask your mom to sit with her because you need to go to Joe. 

You need to see him. 

The walk from the suite to the locker room area takes much longer than you’d like it to and only gives your anxiety time to multiply, not to mention the exacerbation by the boisterous sound of the crowd jamming to Cody’s theme song as they celebrate his win.

A win that should have never happened. 

You’re so caught up in your head that you don’t even pay much attention to the fact Joe is in the middle of hugging his cousin when security leads you into his space.

His cousin, Dwayne freaking Johnson aka The Rock. Any other time, you’d be a bit starstruck, because kin to your man and daughter or not, he’s still a celebrity.

But, this isn’t the time for that. 

As soon as they break apart, you manage to give Dwayne a little nod but immediately go back to hyperfocusing on Joe.

“What’s wrong?” Your hands naturally reach out to feel his shoulders, moving to his forearm. “Is it your wrist?” A thought crosses your mind, remembering a particularly looking nasty body slam into the table. “It’s your back, isn’t it?”

His eyes focus on you curiously as he answers, “I’m fine, Y/N.”

“Bullshit.” You’re not in the mood for his tendency to downplay injuries, not when this one just cost him so much. “You’re hurt. Why else would they change the match outcome?”

As soon as those words leave your mouth, it seems like something dawns on him. He motions to the trainers and others in the room to leave you two alone, a stupid decision considering he clearly needs to be checked out. 

When the locker room clears, he speaks again, “Y/N, I’m not hurt, and they didn’t change the match outcome.” His eyes focus on you. “I asked Hunter to lose this match.”

A pause followed by a gasp. “Oh my god, you must have a concussion. Shit, you really need to be checked out.” You turn away for the door. “I’ll get the trainers—”

He calls your name, snatching your hand and pulling you back to him. “I’m not concussed. I know exactly what I’m saying. I met with Hunter and asked to be relieved of the title.”

There goes the racing thoughts that have now shifted from ‘Joe must be seriously hurt’ to ‘Joe must be significantly hurt.’ Because you can’t process what he's, objectively, explaining to you. 

There’s no way he would ever…..

And then your mind wanders to a possibility. 

“Does this have anything to do with the Mariah situation?” As much as you limited your media consumption during that nightmare, you still saw stuff, read how countless wrestling fans were demanding Joe be stripped of his title, saying that he was an “embarrassment” to the company and didn’t deserve to be the face of WWE. Eyes watering for reasons beyond your comprehension, your chest tightens, asking, “was it—was it because of me and—”

Immediately, he’s reaching for you, assuring, “baby, no, of course not.” He’s wiping at your tears. “I asked for this.”

Him repeating himself confuses you more, and makes you wonder if there was a hit to his head that you missed at some point. “Why–why do you keep saying that?” It’s not making any sense from the first time he said it to now. “Joe, you have to either be concussed or, God forbid, something worse because you clearly don’t know what you’re saying to me.” Shaking your head, you lay it out for him, hoping that maybe it’ll trigger something. “You’re seriously telling me that you asked to lose your title, a title you’ve held for almost four years, a title that’s allowed you to break Hulk Hogan, thee Hulk Hogan’s record, among many, in the main event at Wrestlemania.” Even saying it aloud is ludicrous, forcing out a small laugh at how ridiculous it sounds. 

He can’t be for real. 

But, then he says it again, just as clear as day. “Yes.”

And suddenly, you’re not as nervous or scared. 

You’re pissed the fuck off.

Breaking away from him, you shake your head, doing your best to maintain your composure for the sake of where you are as well as the child growing inside you.

“You worked your ass off to get to where you are now, and you just walk away from it all for what?” It’s that lethal combination of anger and confusion, anger that he would do this to himself when he deserves the world and more. Confusion as to whatever logic he used to make this questionable decision. “What would possess you to—” And it’s then that it slowly dawns on you, that the light goes off. “Oh my god, Joe, you didn’t…..” You can only swallow, emotion washing away the anger. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

But, he tells you the complete opposite. “I’m on indefinite leave starting tomorrow.”

And suddenly everything makes sense. All the pieces start coming together. Trinity and Kaylah being weird and quickly backtracking when Trinity suggested you and Callie go on the road with Joe this summer. 

The way all of them seemed to never understand your frustration with Joe for not wanting to start planning for the birth of your baby.

Why he’s been so dodgy about conversations regarding having help for this baby when he can’t be there. 

They had to have known, known this was his plan, known that this is what he was going to do.

At a loss of words, you manage a question, one of many circling in your head. “Did you do it because of the baby?” 

He shakes his head, pushing back your hair. “Y/N, I asked to lose the title as soon as I got back after meeting Callie for the first time.”

And the inability to process continues because it takes a good minute for you to take in what he just said. In a state of semi shock, mouth slightly ajar, you ask in an almost whispered tone, “what?” 

Months…..that was months ago. And beyond that, the first damn time he met his daughter, a daughter he just found out about, he sacrificed the one thing he’d worked his whole life for. 

This….this is unreal.

Swallowing with a level of emotion you know is only reserved for you, he further explains, “I knew the moment I met her that I wasn’t about to miss any more of her life that I already had.”

“Joe….” Emotion is a bitch, quickly climbing up and over the wall before you can catch it. Your eyes watering all over again.. “I never would have asked you to do this—-I didn’t want—”

He brings his hand to the back of your neck, quietly murmuring, “I know you wouldn’t have, but this was my decision, Y/N. This is what I wanted.” He repeats those now haunting words from earlier. “Do you know how many days I had off last year?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “35. 35 days out of the whole year. I can’t be a father to her or this baby a month out of the whole damn year. It’s not fair to her, to the baby, to you, or even me.” Determination fills his voice, as he shakes his head. “I want to be there to take her to school and help her with her homework and watch whatever random Disney movie she has on her mind for the day.” You laugh, not even bothering to stop the tears at this point. They’re inevitable. “And I want to be with you. We need time to focus on us. On this baby. Our family.” He moves his hand protectively to your stomach. “I’m not retiring. I’ll come back when the time is right, and I’ll still have creative input with the Bloodline while I’m away.”

Sniffling, you ask him what you already know to be true. “That’s why you would shut down my conversations about when the baby gets here, isn’t it?” Your voice cracks mid-sentence. “Because…because you knew you would be here for us.”

His gaze is so soft, so loving, so vulnerable. “You supported me when I needed it, now it’s my turn.” He nods, looking down at your conjoined hands on your belly. “I’m not missing anything else.”

And that’s what really does it for you. You throw your body against his, arms around his neck, while his easily go around you, holding you close to him. 

“Thank you.” You’re such an emotional mess, largely due to pregnancy hormones but also because this is the most unexpected yet most wonderful thing that could have happened tonight. He’ll never understand what this means to you. He gave up his dream for you, for Callie, for this baby, for your family. How does one even have a word to describe just what that means? “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a little longer, murmuring how much he loves you. Joe then guides you on the next steps. “Let me finish up, so we can get out of here, okay?”

It feels almost silly to ask, but a part of you wants to hear him say it, needs to hear him say it. “We’re going home?”

He shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face. You’ve never felt happier than in this very moment. 

“We’re going home, baby…”

[oddyseye]

Things I did NOT like in the Ithaca Saga.

Okay, it was fine, but there were just...choices... There’s just stuff in that section that had me rolling my eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck.

First up: "Hold Them Down." I get that Epic is trying to make the suitors worse villains, but the way they went about it was disgusting. That song outright says the suitors were planning to force themselves on Penelope, which is not even remotely in the Odyssey. Yes, the suitors are terrible — they’re greedy, arrogant, would-be killers who exploit her hospitality — but this crosses a line that feels like shock value rather than staying true to the source material. They included that song, but erased Calypso’s actions toward Odysseus? In the Odyssey, she held him captive for years and forced him into a relationship. That is literally such an important part of the story. Yet, not only did Epic omit it, but they also banned people from even discussing it in their Discord server. How does that make sense? You can explore one kind of assault but not acknowledge the other, especially when the one they ignored was actually canon? The double standard is infuriating, and it completely undermines the narrative’s integrity. Yet somehow this suitor nonsense made the cut? Make it make sense, because I can’t. Next, Telemachus. Why did they do my boy so dirty? In the Odyssey, he was brave, capable, and growing into his own. He fought beside Odysseus, killed suitors, and even comes this close to stringing Odysseus’ old bow, which is supposed to be impossible for anyone but...well. Odysseus. That’s a huge moment! It shows how much he’s grown and how much of Odysseus’ strength and legacy he carries within him. But in Epic? They turned him into some weak, helpless little thing who can’t do anything without Odysseus. Like, hello? Telemachus isn’t just Odysseus’ son; he’s a fighter, a prince, and a man trying to defend his home. Stripping that away to make Odysseus look like more of a hero is just lazy and disrespectful to the original story. They took away his courage, his growth, and his ability to hold his own. It’s like they didn’t trust the audience to see Odysseus as a hero unless Telemachus was made to look useless by comparison. And then we get to Odysseus and Athena. What even was that? Yes, the idea that Odysseus has become a “monster” is a fascinating angle—he’s been through so much that revenge, violence, and survival have completely overtaken who he once was. But Ithaca does nothing to earn this shift, and it outright ignores the groundwork laid in earlier sagas. Two sagas ago, we saw Odysseus at his lowest. He was stranded on Calypso’s island, completely defeated, and begging Athena for help. Let me say that again: begging. And this wasn’t just any goddess he was calling out to — this was the mentor who had abandoned him as a student. She had walked away, and he still reached out, still trusted her to save him when no one else could. That moment showed Odysseus’ faith in Athena and their deep, complicated bond. Calypso.

And Athena? She didn’t just listen—she fought for him. She went up against Zeus himself to make sure Odysseus could leave that island. She defied the king of the gods because she believed in him. Odysseus doesn’t know that detail, but we do, and it makes her devotion to him so much more impactful. She risked everything to give him another chance at life, at home, at redemption.

Fast-forward to Ithaca, and what do we get? Athena shows up, vulnerable and introspective, questioning the path they’ve taken and the world they’ve built, and Odysseus just brushes her off. He doesn’t just say no — he dismisses her entirely. His response boils down to, “Not my problem. I’ve got a wife to see.” Excuse me, now? This is the same man who was crying out for her intervention just two sagas ago. The same man whose survival has always depended on his intelligence, resourcefulness, and the help of others — Athena most of all. Now he’s too proud to even engage with her? It doesn’t track. It’s inconsistent, and it cheapens their relationship. She’s opening her heart, showing her vulnerability, wondering if there’s still a way for them to fix what they’ve broken. She didn’t owe him anything, but she did it because she believed in him, because she had invested in him from the start. So for him to now completely disregard her — when she’s in front of him, showing empathy and pain — feels like a betrayal of everything that came before. Odysseus’ monster arc didn’t need to erase Athena. In fact, rejecting the one person who literally raised him, who fought for him, who saved him so many times, doesn’t even make sense for his character. That’s not the arc of a man who’s become a monster; that’s just cruelty for cruelty’s sake.

This is someone who has given everything to Odysseus, and in this moment, she’s realizing that the person she fought for is no longer the man she thought he was. And that’s what’s tragic.

But Ithaca doesn’t explore that. Instead, it uses Odysseus’ rejection as a cheap plot point, stripping away the emotional weight of his relationship with Athena. She was the woman who raised him, who guided him, who saved him — and they reduced her to a mere plot device to show how “monster-ified” Odysseus has become. It’s lazy, it’s cruel, and it completely disregards the depth of their bond. The pain in Athena’s voice, the heartbreak in her words, is completely wasted.

Odysseus doesn’t need to be a monster who rejects Athena to be a tragic figure. The tragedy would have been in him choosing revenge and violence at the cost of his humanity, not in cutting ties with the one person who raised him into the hero he became. Ithaca could’ve explored that, but instead, it gave us a shallow, hollow portrayal that didn’t respect the characters, their history, or the emotional weight of their relationship. Ithaca is a hot mess, and it’s honestly embarrassing. It had all this potential, and yet it chose to phone it in with lazy writing and shallow plot twists. It throws out big ideas and then does nothing with them, leaving us with empty, unearned moments that just fall flat. Instead of digging into anything meaningful, it relies on cheap drama to get a reaction. The story feels rushed, disconnected from the other sagas, and like the creators couldn’t be bothered to put in the work. They had an opportunity to make something impactful and then just decided to half-ass it. If you're looking for a mess of missed potential, Ithaca is your go-to. That being said, the songs are sick and I will sob again over the last song. Thank you.

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Gargoyle/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 6,091 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist Part 1 (here), Part 2 (coming soon!)

You're a new volunteer at the halfway house and a dear friend of Esmeralda; you expected working here to be tough, but you didn’t expect to fall in love with one of the monsters seeking shelter here.

The halfway house loomed in front of you like something out of a gothic novel, all sprawling stone and ivy creeping up the walls. The rain had turned to a light drizzle, just enough to make the night feel colder than it should.

Tugging your jacket tighter, you glanced up at the carved arches of the doorway, wondering—not for the first time—if you were out of your depth. Then the door swung open, and there she was.

“Finally!” Esmeralda’s voice carried like a warm embrace. Her smile flashed sharp and bright, and even though you knew what she was, it still startled you to see her teeth. “You’re late.”

You laughed, stepping into her embrace without hesitation. Her arms were cool against you, but that was Esmeralda—cool to the touch, always warm in her way. “Blame the weather,” you said. “The train was slow, and so am I when it comes to resisting bakery stops.”

She pulled back and gave you a knowing look. “I told you to bring something. If you didn’t, I’ll be forced to scold you.”

You reached into your bag and produced a paper-wrapped box. “Raspberry tarts,” you said smugly. “Because I know you too well.”

Esmeralda’s grin widened as she plucked the box from your hands. “You do, darling. This is why we’re friends.”

Friends was a soft word for what you were. Not many humans knew what Esmeralda was, and even fewer stuck around once they did. You’d never cared. She had saved your life once, and you owed her for that. Besides, the world was far more interesting with a vampire for a best friend.

She stepped back and gestured for you to come inside. The house was just as impressive on the inside as it was on the outside. High ceilings, dark wood, and the kind of place that felt like it should come with a ghost or two.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here,” she said, leading you down the wide hallway. Her dark hair bounced as she walked. “The timing is perfect.”

“It always is. Sometimes, I think fate brings us together at just the right time. Every time.”

The place buzzed with quiet energy. You caught movement from the corner of your eye—something tall and shadowed slipping into another room.

Esmeralda waved a hand dismissively, either at your comment or whatever you thought you’d seen. “This time, it really is. I have some associates who could help us secure long-term funding, but they’re going to need convincing.” Her heels clicked against the floor, echoing through the hall as she stopped by an arched doorway and turned to face you. “That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” You blinked. “You want me to dazzle some vampires into handing over cash?”

“Not quite.” She smirked. “You’re a journalist. I need you to help record the residents’ stories. Show the work we do here—how important it is. You’re good at that, and the residents need to socialise with someone they don’t see day in, day out.”

You hesitated, looking around again. The house had a strange, quiet pull to it. “You think they’ll open up?”

“They will.” Her smile softened, just enough to feel genuine. “They just need a reason to.”

Esmeralda gestured for you to follow her further into the house, her heels clicking rhythmically on the wooden floor. “I think you’ll find the residents are more varied than you might expect,” she said, her voice tinged with pride. “This place doesn���t just offer shelter—it’s a second chance for some, a lifeline for others. If we’re going to convince my associates to fund us, they need to see the real impact we’ve had.”

You nodded, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “You think their stories will do the trick?”

“They will,” she replied firmly. “Though it depends on how well you can connect with them. Some are easy to talk to. Others... less so.”

Before you could ask what that meant, a blur of movement caught your eye. A small figure came rushing down the hallway towards you, barefoot and clutching something to her chest.

The girl skidded to a stop just inches from colliding with you, her mossy green hair clinging damply to her face. Wide, watery grey eyes darted between you and Esmeralda, her pale cheeks flushing an earthy pink.

“Oh! I-I’m sorry!” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, clutching what looked like a shiny silver trinket against her chest. “I didn’t mean to... I wasn’t looking where I...”

“It’s alright,” you said, smiling to put her at ease. You crouched slightly, meeting her eye level. “No harm done. You all right?”

The girl nodded quickly but didn’t speak again. Esmeralda placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, her tone soft. “Maisie, this is the friend I told you about. She’s here to help us tell our stories.” She turns to me. “I thought you might like to start with Maisie?”

Maisie’s mossy hair swayed as she shook her head rapidly, eyes wide with alarm. “Oh, no, no. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“Maisie’s an open book,” Esmeralda said to you, ignoring the girl’s protest. “Shy, but sweet as they come. Or,” she added with a hum, “you could start with Laurent and Olivier. They’re the oldest residents, so they have the most history to record.”

“Oldest?” you asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

Esmeralda nodded. “And the most stubborn. Olivier can chat for hours, but good luck getting Laurent to open up.”

Before you could respond, heavy footsteps thudded from the opposite direction, drawing your attention. Two towering figures appeared at the end of the hallway, their presence as imposing as it was magnetic. One was slightly darker in tone, his grey-green skin like moss-covered stone, his massive frame a wall of muscle. The other was a shade lighter, with a more angular build and sharp amber eyes.

“Maisie,” the darker one rumbled, his voice low and steady. “Give it back.”

The lighter one sighed, crossing his arms. “You know stealing isn’t a game, right?”

Maisie squeaked, thrusting the trinket forward. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it!”

Esmeralda leaned in. “Meet Olivier,” she said, nodding towards the lighter figure, “and his twin, Laurent.”

They strode closer, the hallway seeming to shrink under their sheer size. They were massive, nearly seven feet tall, with broad shoulders that seemed to stretch the very definition of imposing. Their skin, textured like weathered stone, shimmered faintly in the dim light.

Your gaze caught on Laurent first, the larger of the two. His face was broad, with a wide, squashed nose, sharp, heavy brows, and tusks that curved slightly from his lower jaw. The glow of his amber eyes cut through the shadows, steady and unreadable, but there was something about the way he carried himself—stiff, upright, every movement deliberate—that made your chest tighten.

He looked like he’d been carved from stone itself, all strength and immovable purpose, and yet the detail of him was captivating: the faint cracks across his forearms, the way his massive wings, folded tightly against his back, curved with a natural grace.

For a moment, you forgot to breathe. He was terrifying. He was magnificent.

He was staring right at you.

You forced yourself to focus on Olivier instead, who offered a crooked smile as he took the trinket from Maisie. His features were similar to Laurent’s—squashed and intimidating—but there was a softness to him, in the way his golden eyes glinted and the slight curve of his lips. “I hope we didn’t scare you too badly,” Olivier said, his tone teasing as he turned the trinket over in his claws.

You shook your head, managing a smile despite the fact that your pulse was still racing. “Not scared. Startled, maybe.”

Laurent’s low, rumbling voice cut in, deeper and rougher than Olivier’s. “You looked scared.”

The words hit like a challenge, his gaze boring into yours with a quiet intensity that made the air feel heavier. Your throat tightened as you tried to find your footing again. “First time meeting a gargoyle,” you said, keeping your tone light despite the unease creeping into your chest. “I wasn’t expecting statuesque giants in the hallway.”

Olivier’s laugh broke the tension, his grin widening. “Statuesque. We’ll take that as a compliment.”

Laurent’s expression didn’t shift, but something in the flicker of his eyes told you your attempt at humour had landed poorly. He glanced briefly at Esmeralda, then back at you. “We’re not statues, that’s a myth.”

It wasn’t quite defensive, but there was a weight to the statement, a quiet correction. Your cheeks warmed under his scrutiny, though you weren’t sure if it was embarrassment or something more disconcerting.

“Well,” Esmeralda interjected smoothly, her tone placating, “I think introductions are overdue. Laurent, Olivier, this is my friend. She’s here to help us with some important work.”

Laurent’s stare lingered for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to Maisie. “You need to stop taking our stuff.”

Maisie mumbled another apology, clutching her mossy hair nervously before darting down the hallway toward her room. Her bare feet barely made a sound as she vanished into the shadows. You watched her go, relieved that she seemed more embarrassed than upset.

Laurent and Olivier lingered for a moment longer. Olivier gave you a small, hesitant smile, the kind that seemed polite but guarded. “It was nice meeting you,” he said, his tone warm; but still laced with caution.

Laurent, on the other hand, didn’t bother with any pleasantries. His amber eyes flicked over you briefly, unreadable, before he turned and walked away. Olivier followed a moment later, the two of them moving in sync, their massive wings shifting slightly as they disappeared into the house.

You exhaled slowly, the tension in your chest easing now that they were gone.

“I’m sorry about Laurent,” Esmeralda said softly, drawing your attention back to her. Her dark eyes held a mix of amusement and sympathy. “He has... a way of putting people on edge.”

You crossed your arms, still feeling the weight of his gaze. “He’s intense - and intimidating. Is he always like that?”

Esmeralda tilted her head thoughtfully. “Most of the time, yes. Laurent is...” She paused, searching for the right words. “Complicated. Fiercely loyal, deeply protective, but also very guarded. He doesn’t trust easily, especially humans.” Her lips quirked into a small smile. “Don’t take it personally. It’s not you—it’s everyone.”

You raised an eyebrow, still curious. “Olivier? He seemed... nicer.”

“More approachable, certainly,” Esmeralda agreed. “Don’t let his smile fool you. Olivier is just as wary as his brother. The two of them are inseparable. They’ve been through too much together to let anyone else in easily.”

“Oh?”

Her tone shifted slightly, quieter, more serious. “I could tell you more, but it’s not my story to share. That’s for them to decide.” She gestured down the hallway, as if to indicate the direction the gargoyles had gone. “If you want to understand them, you’ll need to hear it from them. Separately.”

You frowned, puzzled. “Separately?”

Esmeralda nodded. “Laurent and Olivier rely on each other. That’s not a bad thing, but it’s... limiting. They rarely speak to anyone else, and I think it would do them good to branch out. Even if it’s just for this project, talking to you individually could be important for both of them.”

You hesitated, unsure if Laurent’s gruff demeanor was something you could break through. Still, there was something about him—and Olivier—that intrigued you. You wanted to understand why they were here, why they stayed when so many others seemed to move on.

Esmeralda smiled, her sharp features softening. “Take your time. They’ll open up eventually. Just be patient… and persistent.”

You nodded slowly, already thinking of how to approach them. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” she said warmly, motioning for you to follow her further down the hallway. “Now, let me show you where you’ll be staying.”

***

The room Esmeralda had set aside for you was beautiful, in a way that felt almost too much. The ceilings were impossibly high, the bed large enough to swallow you whole, its dark wooden frame heavy and ornate. A tall wardrobe sat in the corner, its doors slightly ajar, revealing neatly folded blankets that you didn’t need.

The entire space was cold; not freezing, but just enough to keep you shifting under the covers.

Then there was the snoring. It rumbled low and steady through the wall, like some great beast slumbering on the other side. You guessed it might be one of the residents—a werewolf, maybe? Whoever it was, they were sleeping far more soundly than you.

Frustrated, you kicked the blankets aside and padded over to the tall windows that opened onto the balcony. The latch creaked faintly as you slid it open, stepping out into the night. A chill breeze hit you immediately, raising goosebumps along your arms, but it was a relief after the oppressive stillness of the room.

The view was eerie. Beautiful. The sprawling grounds of the halfway house stretched out below, dark shapes of trees swaying in the faint wind. Above, the moon hung bright and full, casting everything in a silvery glow.

There, perched on the roof like a gargoyle carved into the building itself, was Laurent.

Your breath caught. He was perched on the very edge of the roofline, his wings partially unfurled, silhouetted against the moonlight. His massive frame was still, his head tilted slightly as though he were watching the horizon. He looked like part of the house, his dark skin blending into the stone.

You took a quick step back, hoping he hadn’t seen you. The last thing you wanted was to disturb him—or worse, have another uncomfortable interaction like earlier.

The faintest movement of his head confirmed he’d already noticed you. His glowing amber eyes locked onto yours, even from a distance. There was no going back now.

After a moment’s hesitation, you decided to take a leap of faith—literally. Climbing up onto the roof seemed like a terrible idea, but staying silent felt worse. You couldn’t explain it, but something about Laurent’s presence pulled at you. You grabbed the nearest part of the latticework and started to climb.

The wind picked up as you scrambled higher, the cold biting at your fingers. The angle was steeper than you’d thought, and halfway up, your foot slipped.

A startled gasp escaped you as you lost your balance. Before you could fall, a massive hand closed around your arm, pulling you up with startling strength. Laurent’s grip was solid and unyielding, his claws barely brushing your skin as he steadied you.

“Careful,” he rumbled, his voice low and rough. “You’ll get yourself killed.”

Your legs trembled as you clung to the edge of the roof, heart racing more from the near fall than anything else. “I-I wasn’t—”

“You’re scared,” he interrupted, his gaze sharp, almost accusing. “You shouldn’t have come up here if you’re afraid of me.”

“Afraid of falling,” you snapped, your voice steadier than you expected. “Not you.”

His expression flickered, surprise flashing across his heavy features before settling into something unreadable. Slowly, he pulled you fully onto the roof, setting you down with more care than you’d expected.

“Hmm,” he muttered, his deep voice more thoughtful now. “You’re braver than you look.”

You sat smiled and carefully, legs crossed, and your hands braced behind you for balance. The roof slanted enough to make your stomach churn if you looked down too long, so you fixed your gaze straight ahead instead. The cold stone beneath you seeped through your clothes, sharp and uncomfortable, but Laurent’s steady presence made the discomfort bearable.

He hadn’t moved far, crouched on the edge of the roof like he belonged there, his wings partially spread to balance himself. The moonlight outlined him in silver, catching on the rough texture of his mossy-green skin and the faint cracks that ran across his arms. His claws flexed once, idly, before going still again, his focus still somewhere in the distance.

The silence between you stretched, heavy and unfamiliar. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, watching the way his sharp, angled features caught the light. His face was undeniably strange—his nose wide and squashed, his jaw prominent and square. His glowing eyes were the most striking, unblinking as they reflected the faint light of the moon.

Odd, you thought. Odd, but not unattractive. Certainly unconventional, but there was something compelling about the strength in his features, the way his stillness made him seem carved from the roof itself.

When he finally turned his head to look at you, the weight of his gaze knocked the breath from your chest. He wasn’t just watching you—he was studying you, those amber eyes sharp and expectant.

You fumbled, sitting up straighter. “I—uh...” The words caught in your throat as his expression remained unreadable. “Esmeralda thought I should talk to you.”

His brow furrowed slightly, one of his wings shifting closer to his body. “Why?”

You rubbed at the back of your neck, feeling the cold bite of the wind there. “She’s... She’s hoping to get funding for the house. She thought that if I recorded the residents’ stories, it might help convince the people she’s reaching out to.”

For a moment, Laurent didn’t respond, his gaze sweeping back over the horizon. You wondered if he was ignoring you entirely when he finally said, “I know she’s been struggling.”

His voice was low, rough, but there was something softer beneath it. You tilted your head, surprised by his honesty. “You do?”

He nodded, still watching the trees sway in the distance. “She tries to keep it quiet, but it’s obvious if you pay attention. Fixes that don’t get finished. Rooms that stay empty longer than they used to.”

You swallowed, unsure of how to respond. He wasn’t wrong—Esmeralda’s determination to keep the house running sometimes masked just how precarious things had become.

“She thinks your story could help,” you said quietly.

Laurent’s jaw tightened at that, his claws flexing again. “I don’t tell my story.”

It wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t exactly welcoming either. You braced yourself, determined not to retreat. “Maybe this time, you should.”

“No,” Laurent said flatly, his gaze cutting back to you.

The weight of the word hung in the air, as immovable as the gargoyle himself.

You hesitated, frustration bubbling under your skin. “I’m not asking you to bare your soul or anything,” you tried, keeping your tone even, calm. “It’s just—Esmeralda really believes this could help the house. You’re the oldest resident. Your story matters.”

“I said no.” His wings flared slightly, a restless motion that seemed involuntary, and his claws scraped faintly against the stone roof.

Your irritation flared, pushing past the unease in your chest. “Why; what are you so afraid of? Esmeralda has done so much for you, she deserves—”

“Enough!”

His voice cracked like thunder, louder than anything you’d heard from him before. It rolled over you, heavy and full of raw anger. Laurent turned toward you fully now, his massive frame towering in the moonlight.

“Do you ever shut up?” he growled, his tusks catching the faint light as his upper lip curled. “Take the hint and fuck off!”

The words hit like a slap, sharp and final. For the first time since arriving at the house, you felt real fear, a cold knot tightening in your stomach. The sheer size of him, his claws flexing at his sides, the tension radiating from every inch of him—it was overwhelming.

Your heart pounded as you scrambled to your feet, stepping back toward the edge of the roof. “I’m sorry,” you stammered, barely managing to get the words out. You turned, gripping the stone ledge as you clambered awkwardly down to the balcony.

When your feet finally hit solid ground, you turned back instinctively, catching sight of him still standing on the roof. The shadows draped over him like a second skin, his wings tucked tight against his back, but he didn’t look at you. He stared straight ahead, as if you’d already disappeared.

The knot in your stomach tightened further. You wanted to call up to him, to try again, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the one he tried to mask with cold indifference. Or maybe it was the sharp edge of your own fear.

You turned back to the hallway, your chest still tight as you opened the door quietly. You hadn’t made it far when a vaguely familiar voice stopped you.

“Are you alright?” Olivier stood just ahead, his expression a mix of concern and something softer. He glanced toward the balcony, his wings twitching faintly. “I was looking for Laurent. Did something happen?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “We talked. Or... tried to. He got angry. I pushed too hard, and he told me to leave.”

Olivier’s brows furrowed, and he stepped closer, his broad shoulders hunched slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “My brother... he has his reasons for being the way he is. That’s not an excuse, but I hope you understand.”

You nodded, still rattled. “I didn’t mean to upset him.”

Olivier gave you a faint, apologetic smile. “He knows. He just... needs time.”

You smile awkwardly, trying to stuff down the flicker of guilt growing in your stomach. “Yeah, I know.”

***

The next few days passed in a blur of activity. You kept yourself busy, determined to avoid crossing paths with Laurent. If he didn’t want to talk, fine. There were plenty of other residents willing to share their stories, and you threw yourself into listening to them.

Maisie was the first. The young kelpie was painfully shy, her mossy hair dripping faintly as she sat across from you in the sunlit sitting room, her knees drawn to her chest. She’d come from a small loch in the Scottish Highlands, the last of her kind in that area. Her voice wavered as she explained how the world had changed too much for her kind to survive, her watery grey eyes filled with a sadness that seemed far older than her youthful appearance.

“Humans don’t leave offerings anymore,” she murmured, twisting a strand of mossy hair between her fingers. “They drain the lochs... build over everything. There’s nowhere left for us.”

Her words stayed with you long after she returned to her room.

Lucas was a different story entirely. The boisterous werewolf cornered you in the kitchen as you were grabbing a drink, pulling you into a sprawling conversation over a shared pot of coffee. He was charming and open in a way that felt effortless, leaning against the counter as he recounted his life before the halfway house.

“I used to live in the city,” he said, stirring sugar into his cup. “Worked construction, went out on weekends, the usual. Then I met someone—human, obviously—and things got... complicated.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “Complicated how?”

Lucas’s grin faltered, his golden-brown eyes dimming slightly. “She found out. Couldn’t handle it. One night I shifted in front of her by accident, and that was that. She told people. I had to run.” He shrugged, a casual motion that didn’t quite mask the tension in his shoulders. “Esmeralda found me before things got worse.”

It struck you how casually he spoke about something that had likely upended his entire life. The ease in his tone felt practiced, a cover for something far deeper.

You wanted to press him further, to ask how he’d really felt when everything fell apart, but the slight twitch in his jaw warned you to tread lightly.

“Well,” you said instead, offering him a small smile. “It sounds like you’ve found a place here. Even if it’s... not what you planned.”

Lucas exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Yeah, it’s not bad. Esmeralda runs a tight ship, and the residents aren’t half as scary as they look.” His grin returned, broader this time. “Most of them, anyway.”

He didn’t say it outright, but you could hear the unspoken Laurent in his words. The conversation drifted to lighter topics after that, but even as Lucas returned to his usual charm, his story lingered with you.

Later that evening, as you wandered the hallways, you found yourself drawn to the little-used staircase that led to the third floor. You’d avoided it until now; Esmeralda had casually mentioned that only one resident stayed there, and even she hadn’t offered much detail.

The stairs creaked under your weight, the air growing cooler as you ascended. The third floor was darker, the faint scent of dust and something older curling in the still air. Shadows clung to the corners, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d imagined the faint movement flickering just out of sight.

Then a voice, low and whispery, broke the silence.

“You’re brave... or foolish.”

You froze, your breath catching. The shadows shifted ahead of you, curling and stretching until they coalesced into a shape—not quite solid, not quite human. A pair of faintly glowing eyes blinked into existence, and you realised you were face-to-face with something dark and shadowy.

“I heard you don’t like visitors,” you said carefully, your voice steady despite the prickling unease that crawled up your spine.

Rio’s shape rippled, his outline flickering like smoke caught in the wind. “Most of them don’t try to talk. They... avoid me.”

You took a tentative step closer, tilting your head. “Why’s that? You seem... well, intimidating, sure, but not terrible.”

A sound that might have been a chuckle escaped him, soft and dry like paper crumpling. “That’s... generous. What do you want?”

“I’m recording stories for Esmeralda,” you explained, watching the shadows shift around him. “About the residents, their lives. She said it might help the house.”

Rio was silent for a long moment, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly. “A human,” he murmured, almost to himself. “She sent a human.”

Despite the odd flicker of fear still clinging to your thoughts, you crossed your arms. “Are you going to let that stop you?”

His form seemed to grow taller, darker, before shrinking back again. “No. Ask.”

The exchange was brief, fragmented, but he answered you, his words drifting like smoke in the quiet hallway. When you eventually thanked him and left, you couldn’t shake the sense that you’d just glimpsed something rare, something no one else had seen.

Esmeralda’s delight later was almost infectious, but even as she praised you for managing to talk to Rio, your thoughts wandered. No matter how many stories you gathered, one glaring absence loomed in your mind.

Laurent still hadn’t spoken to you, and you were starting to wonder if he ever would.

***

Maisie sat cross-legged on the couch, her mossy hair draped over one shoulder as she carefully plaited it into thin, uneven braids. You were perched on the other end, notebook in hand, jotting down details of her story between her shy pauses.

“I suppose,” Maisie murmured, her voice as soft as the brush of water against stone, “I was lucky Esmeralda found me when she did. I didn’t... I didn’t know where to go.”

You glanced up, offering an encouraging smile. “You’ve been here a while now, though. Do you feel safe?”

Maisie nodded, her fingers still working through her damp hair. “Safe, aye, but it’s... different. Always worrying someone will notice something.” Her gaze dropped to her lap, her voice quieter now. “People don’t like what they don’t understand.”

Her words sat heavily between you, both of you lost in thought until the murmur of voices from the next room pulled you back.

Esmeralda’s voice, low and sharp, carried through the doorway. “You don’t think they’ve figured it out, do you?”

Maisie froze mid-braid, her watery grey eyes snapping to yours. You shook your head slightly, motioning for her to stay quiet as Lucas’s reply drifted through the air.

“It’s just talk, Esme,” Lucas said, his tone calm but edged with unease. “People in small towns gossip. It doesn’t mean they know anything.”

“What if they do?” Esmeralda shot back, her usual poise slipping. “What if someone’s realised what we are? You’ve heard the rumours as much as I have. Strange sounds. Lights at night. The halfway house full of strangers. They’re putting things together.”

Maisie’s hands trembled, her braid forgotten as she leaned closer to you, her voice a whisper. “Are they talking about us?”

You pressed a finger to your lips, trying to focus on the conversation.

“They’re always going to talk,” Lucas replied, though his voice sounded strained now, the usual easy charm missing. “It doesn’t mean we’re in danger. We’ve dealt with this kind of thing before.”

“This is different,” Esmeralda insisted. “I know when someone’s watching. I know when someone’s looking too closely.”

There was a pause, the kind that felt heavy with things unsaid. Then Lucas spoke again, softer this time. “If someone’s onto us, we’ll deal with it. We always do. You’ve been keeping this place running too long to let a few nosy villagers bring it down.”

The tension in Esmeralda’s voice didn’t ease. “I won’t let them hurt anyone. Not again.”

Your stomach tightened at her words, and you could see Maisie clutching her knees, her knuckles pale against her mossy skin. You wanted to tell her everything was fine, that it was just paranoia, but the edge in Esmeralda’s tone made it hard to believe even yourself.

Maisie’s whisper barely broke the silence. “Do you think... they’ll come here?”

You didn’t have an answer. Instead, you closed your notebook and gave her a reassuring smile you didn’t quite feel. “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” you said softly, though the uneasy knot in your chest told you you’d both heard enough to worry.

Maisie’s fingers fidgeted with her braid, unravelling it as quickly as she’d plaited it. Her watery grey eyes darted toward the doorway where Esmeralda and Lucas’s voices had been, their absence now replaced by an uncomfortable stillness.

“Maisie,” you said gently, closing your notebook and setting it aside. “We can pick this up another time, yeah?”

She blinked, her mouth forming a small o of surprise before she nodded quickly, her mossy hair swaying. “Aye, I—thank you,” she mumbled, standing so quickly that the hem of her long skirt caught on the couch. She tugged it free and all but darted out of the room, her bare feet silent against the hardwood floors.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stood. You didn’t blame her. Whatever Esmeralda and Lucas had been talking about had set both your nerves and hers on edge. There was no use pushing her now.

Stepping into the hall, you nearly collided with someone solid—someone massive. Your heart skipped as you looked up to find both twins standing there, blocking most of the narrow hallway with their combined size.

Laurent, as always, looked like he’d been carved directly from the walls—stoic and unmoving—while Olivier’s brows rose slightly, his expression more open but just as unreadable.

“Sorry,” you said, stepping back and trying to gauge whether they’d heard the conversation too. From the way Olivier’s amber eyes flicked toward the sitting room door, it was clear they had. Neither of them said anything, and you felt the awkwardness thicken around you.

“So, uh,” you started, fumbling for something to say. “What brings you to this end of the house?”

Olivier gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just stretching our legs.”

Laurent, on the other hand, didn’t so much as blink. He stood there, his wings tucked close, a hulking silhouette against the dim light of the hallway.

You cleared your throat, glancing between them. “Well, nice to, um, bump into you. Again.”

Olivier’s smile widened just a fraction, but Laurent simply turned, his massive frame moving further down the hall. Olivier followed without another word.

Later, when sleep refused to come, you found yourself wandering into the kitchen. The faint hum of the refrigerator was the only sound at first, until a low, familiar voice startled you.

“You’re up late.”

Laurent was standing near the counter, his hulking frame somehow looking out of place amidst the cosy clutter of the kitchen. His wings shifted slightly as he turned, glancing at you with those glowing amber eyes.

“So are you,” you replied, leaning against the doorway.

For a moment, you thought that was the end of it. Then, awkwardly, he gestured toward the kettle. “Tea?”

The word was stilted, almost uncertain, and you blinked.

“Sure,” you said, your voice softer now.

Laurent reached for a small container, and your eyes widened as he set it on the counter. It had your name written neatly on the label.

“You knew where my tea was?”

He shrugged, the movement oddly stiff. “Esmeralda said it was yours. You leave it in the same spot.”

You stared, caught between surprise and something warmer. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

His claws brushed the edge of the container as he opened it. “I notice everything.”

You didn’t comment, instead watching as he ambled about the kitchen.

Laurent moved with a quiet efficiency that seemed incongruous with his size. The kettle hissed softly as he poured the steaming water into two mismatched mugs, his massive hands surprisingly deft as he worked. His shoulders hunched slightly to accommodate the low cabinets above him, and every shift of his wings made the kitchen feel even smaller.

You watched him from your spot near the table, caught between awkward silence and an inexplicable pull you didn’t entirely understand. He seemed too big for the space, too solid, like the room itself might give way before he did.

Yet, there was something mesmerising about the precision of his movements, the quiet strength in the way he handled something as simple as making tea.

The air between you was heavy, uncomfortable. You wanted to say something—anything—but the words refused to come. Laurent didn’t seem inclined to break the silence either, his amber eyes focused on the mugs as he let the tea steep.

Your fingers tapped absently against the edge of the table, the tension stretching taut. “I, uh... I didn’t mean to push you before.” The words slipped out before you had time to second guess them. “When I first got here. I just… I was trying to help, and I think I overstepped.”

Laurent didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached for the mugs, his claws brushing the handles as he turned to hand one to you. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment, the glow in them unreadable.

“I don’t like being pushed,” he said finally, his voice a low rumble that resonated through the small kitchen.

The sound sent a shiver down your spine, something deep and instinctive that wasn’t entirely fear. You nodded, fingers wrapping around the warm mug. “I get that. I just... wanted you to know I’m sorry.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his tusks catching the faint light as his jaw shifted. “You meant well,” he said eventually, his tone gruff but not unkind. “It’s fine.”

The tension between you didn’t entirely dissipate, but something in the air felt different. You took a deep breath, lifting the mug to your lips—

A sudden crash from somewhere in the house shattered the quiet, the sound sharp and violent enough to make you jump. The mug slipped in your hands, hot tea splashing onto your fingers and sending a spark of pain through you.

Before you’d even registered it, Laurent was already moving. His wings flared slightly, casting shadows across the walls as he straightened to his full height.

“Stay here,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

Another sound followed—a muffled shout, unfamiliar voices carrying through the hallway. Laurent’s head snapped toward the doorway, his body tensing like a spring ready to release.

“Who the hell is that?” you whispered, your heart pounding as the voices grew louder. Laurent didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped toward the door, his massive frame blocking your view as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed closer.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

captive prince short stories highlights & annotations

pet

(takes place during book 1: captive prince)

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Ancel was a virgin the first twelve times he had sex. The thirteenth time, it lacked all plausibility.

‘You could buy out my contract.’ ‘How much?’ He made up a figure. There was no Lord Arten. Ancel landed his first contract that day: three months of his time, signed over to the merchant’s son.

‘I’ve never done it in public before,’ said Ancel. ‘You’d be my first.’

ancel leveraging subcategories of his virginity. smart

‘You’re not going to take him away from me, you slut,’ said the boy sweetly, murmuring the words too quietly for anyone else to hear. ‘Too late,’ said Ancel.

vere sucks. but i think ancel is playing the system more effectively than like anyone else there

Was this how men felt fucking him? No wonder they paid a fortune for it.

Fucking Lord Rouart, fucking every lord here. Being watched by everyone while he did it was like a blinding white light.

veretian society fucks ancel, ancel fucks veretian society harder

The room exploded in approval, cheers, calls of his name. He could hear shouts of suggestions, ribald calls to Lord Rouart in the thick excitement of the crowd.

there have to be at least a few people in vere who are not into this, but just kind of playing along to keep their—wait isn’t that the other guy in this short story

He was going to meet his new owner, and his new owner was going to fuck him.

ancel does not understand how cs pacat writes sex and power dynamics. nobody ever gets what they think they’re going to get

‘So, you saw me in the ring, and decided that you just had to have me,’ said Ancel. Berenger looked up. ‘No. I hate the ring.’ The words were matter-of-fact. ‘Parsins, hand me my jacket.’

i think i am going to really like berenger.

‘How old are you?’ As if Ancel hadn’t spoken. ‘Sixteen.’ Berenger gave him a flat look. ‘Twenty,’ said Ancel, the truth coming out with a flash of annoyance that he had to work hard to keep out of his voice.

He tried to recover. ‘And you?’ said Ancel, in his most velvet voice. ‘Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?’ ‘I’m riding to Ladehors.’ Berenger was walking right past him, he was—was he leaving?

most normal guy in vere

Ancel had seen with his own eyes that Berenger owned six identical copies of the same brown jacket.

oh i love this character

He was dressed in a loose shirt of simple white linen and plain trousers, his red hair tied back in a casual tail with a single leather tie. He looked up when he heard footsteps, and then stood quickly, closing the book. An unaffected young man, rising startled to greet his friend. ‘My lord,’ said Ancel. ‘I’m sorry, I—you took me by surprise.’

this is so funny. ancel pretending to be what he thinks berenger wants him to be, which is just like another normal guy

'Oh this?’ A hand to his mussily tied back hair. ‘I wasn’t expecting you back so early. I can change into something more—’ ‘No. You look handsome.’ Berenger stopped and shook his head. ‘That is, when we’re not at functions, you should feel free to wear whatever you like.’ ‘Thank you, my lord,’ said Ancel. It was Berenger who took a step forward. ‘You’re reading Isagoras?’ Berenger was looking at the discarded book with its scrollwork pages. He looked up at Ancel in surprise. ‘What do you think of him?’

i like how ancel is doing a reversal of the makeover trope. he was hot and glamorous before, and now he’s trying to make himself look like a boring nerd

Ancel couldn’t read, but he had planned all this from the moment Parsins had pointed the book out to him.

LMAOOOOOO

Ancel ate the plain food with the good manners of a merchant’s son, and none of the teasing flirtation that marked his own profession.

what are you talking about, there’s never been a mention of homoerotic bread eating in this series before

It happened in the library one night several weeks later, as Berenger was talking about politics. Ancel nodded and half listened while Berenger said—blah blah the Prince, blah blah the alliance with Akielos—

‘In the end, aren’t we all looking for someone to be loyal to?’ said Ancel, softly.

ancel really just went down the checklist of things he was told berenger likes (loyalty in friendship in this case)

also, a note from post-reading the entire story sam: YES YOU ARE, ANCEL.

‘Is that what you want?’ said Berenger. ‘It’s what I never thought I’d find,’ said Ancel, ‘until I met you,’ and it was happening, finally, it was finally happening, the two of them drawing closer in the firelight, Ancel’s arms sliding around Berenger’s neck, leaning in to— ‘Ancel—no.’

‘You may have made assumptions,’ Berenger spoke first, not looking at him, ‘after I bid for you in the ring, but I—’ For a moment, Ancel didn’t understand. And then suddenly the rejections and the refusals made sense. ‘It doesn’t have to be like it was in the ring,’ Ancel said in rush, relieved to have discovered the root of the problem. He hastened to reassure Berenger. ‘I don’t have to be the one who does that.’

ancel i don’t think this is a top/bottom thing, i think berenger isn’t drinking whatever horny flouride they have in the water in vere and is just disinterested in the pet stuff

He waited for Berenger to get it. Berenger didn’t seem to get it.

because that’s not what berenger meant!! this dynamic is very fun. extremely self-assured and aspirational guy who only knows how to leverage sex and schmooze, vs chill-ass guy who is not really trying to get anything out of anyone and therefore not thinking or trying too hard

‘You can fuck me,’ Ancel explained. Berenger’s eyes went wide. Was that the wrong thing to say? ‘I’ve always done it that way before. It’s what I’m good at.’ That was the wrong thing to say, too. ‘I mean, I want you.’ That was better. He should have said that first. ‘I want you.’ He moved a step closer, made it personal. ‘The way you want me.’ ‘Ancel, you don’t have to—’ ‘I want you to fuck me.’ ‘That isn’t what I want.’ ‘Then what do you want?’ Ancel said, in pure frustration.

world’s first reverse beard has been invented

‘In six weeks,’ began Berenger, ‘I’m attending court. As a single man, I need a pet to attend dinners and functions with me. For propriety’s sake. That is all. I don’t expect intimacy in private. In fact I prefer in private that you—that you and I—’ ‘Court?’ Like a flower inclining towards sunlight, Ancel’s whole attention swung to the thought. He barely heard the rest. ‘You’re taking me to court?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘The royal court. At Arles.’ ‘Yes.’

such a fun premise for this story. ancel has a reason to stay (social climbing), berenger has a reason to need ancel (appearing to follow customs). surely they can help each other accomplish their goals while keeping this impersonal and professional, with no eventual mutual understanding or friendship or romance.

‘Well, I’m going to need a lot more jewels,’ Ancel said, his annoyance returning with a snap. ‘I know you like boring young men in cotton shirts, but I can’t wander around the palace looking like this.’ Berenger was staring at him again, like Ancel was a stranger he was meeting for the first time. Ancel lifted his chin. ‘What? I intend to make the most of our time at court. I am incredibly good at my chosen profession. Not that you’d know that.’ ‘It’s possible I didn’t realise how good until now.’ Berenger was still gazing at him with that new look in his eyes. After a long moment, ‘Do you even like horses?’ ‘I can’t read,’ said Ancel. ‘I see,’ said Berenger.

okay yeah i LOVE this. mask off for ancel, meanwhile berenger hadn’t even bothered to pretend in the first place. i mean he’s pretending in front of the court, but not ancel. it’s just nice that they’re on the same team, unlike SOME PEOPLE i’ve read about during this rough period of time in vere

The next morning, Ancel threw away the plain white shirt and the simple leather hair tie, and came down to breakfast in the clothes that he liked: exquisite silks and velvets that felt good against his skin, wearing his hair pampered and long and out. Berenger didn’t say, ‘I see,’ but the implication was there in the heavy weight of his regard as he looked at Ancel across the table. Ancel lifted his chin, ignoring all the uninspired foods that Berenger liked and biting into a fruit tart.

this story has done a great job of making me like ancel and berenger in a short amount of time. strong moments of characterization (the fruit tart, the jackets, etc), more simple and less subtle than damen and laurent, but still very fun to notice and appreciate

‘The horse I chose for you has arrived,’ said Berenger. ‘She’s a strawberry roan named Ruby. I wonder if you’ll like her.’

berenger and ancel’s first official date is a chappell roan concert. red hair and horses.

For his part, Ancel stopped trying to seduce Berenger, and started enjoying himself.

Perhaps Berenger preferred women.

i don’t think this is where the story goes, but i would actually kinda like if they were just friends, and that was in fact the case. or even better, ancel assumes berenger is straight and that’s why he’s not interested, but berenger is eventually like “no i like men, i’m just not attracted to you” or "i don't like my partners being 10 years younger than i am"

Every commoner in the province had a story about Lord Berenger: Berenger had remembered the name of their child; Berenger had stayed with them through the birth of their prize colt; Berenger had helped them with the purchase of equipment when they had none, saving the harvest.

berenger could not have been involved in the main series. i think he’d break the reader’s brain compared to laurent because he’s just like. a normal and decent person despite the horrors, and not trying to hide it beneath a million layers of complicated bullshit

‘No. I meant that the court has changed,’ said Berenger, shaking his head, ‘since the King died. The Regent’s influence—’

hate that guy

‘What?’ said Ancel. ‘Luxury suits you,’ remarked Berenger.

god i wish this could stay platonic. THAT would be the true subversion!

note from post-reading the entire story sam: with the full image we eventually get of ancel, i actually think it's even better that berenger admits that he desires him. it would feel kind of like a cop-out for the answer to ancel's unspoken question of "would anyone like me for who i am, if my attractiveness was not a factor?" to be "yeah this guy does, but he never would have been into you in the first place." it's even more effective, and even more a subversion of what ancel thinks of himself, for berenger to find ALL of him attractive—his ambition and talent and intelligence, in addition to his looks and performance—and not want to reduce ancel to the sex object that he (ancel) thinks he has to be.

Who was the new pet? How had he come to serve Berenger?

i’m getting the impression that the previous king of vere had not required people like berenger to have pets, but the regent does. which is why berenger hired ancel

Berenger then knelt for the Prince, who was standing to the left of the throne, a severe young man in harsh clothing.

GOD i hope i get to see a little bit of laurent being a withdrawn dryly comedic sitcom side character before damen arrives and it sends him into joker mode

Lady Egere had a horse program Berenger was interested in, so Ancel made her feel like the most important person in the world.

berenger not beating the normal person allegations. like yeah, that is what people do at dinner parties. they talk to other people about shared interests. good job, berenger.

And when everyone was talking about the Prince, and the conversation swerved uncomfortably towards the new Akielon alliance, Ancel stepped in and told the whole table a risqué story he’d heard about Akielon bed practices, diverting attention.

laurent sighs and makes a mental note to be slightly less hostile to ancel for that accidental favor

Even Berenger laughed when he got to the punchline.

‘I love them,’ said Ancel. ‘I’d sleep with you right now. I might even enjoy it for once.’ He stopped. ‘High praise,’ said Berenger, dryly. ‘Of course, with you, I’d—’ ‘Oh, of course,’ said Berenger.

oh NICE moment. ancel admitting that he doesn’t actually like any of this shit he’s doing. and berenger implying that he’s always understood that.

Another day, another brown jacket.

i love the brown jacket as a means of characterization and comedy

‘In blue or red, you could look quite handsome.’ It was something Ancel had noticed on the third morning, in the early light from the window. Berenger had a strong profile, good bone structure, and warm eyes. His waist, where Ancel was lacing, was trim, his body fit from riding. ‘Let me pick your jacket.’ Berenger sounded amused. ‘You don’t like my jacket?’

you don’t like his jacket????

He didn’t let Ancel pick his jacket.

good to know he has his hard limits

They had a good system in which Ancel filched the delicious confectionaries and special sweets and left Berenger all the plain stuff he preferred.

i love this for them!!!

‘I can’t believe you’ve never visited the coupling gardens. Do you feel no desires at all? Come on.’ ‘Ancel, I don’t think that—’ ‘Look, it’s those flowers from that boring poem that you like,’ Ancel announced proudly. He stood in front of the spray of white flowers. Berenger had stopped. The flowers were night blooming, filling the air with a delicate scent.

ancel please don’t talk about poetry in the mindfuck blowjob garden

‘You’re right,’ said Berenger. ‘They’re very beautiful. And rare. In the poem, the lover is given only a single flower.’ ‘What a terrible gift. I’d much rather have jewellery,’ said Ancel, wrinkling his nose. ‘Or clothes. Even the horse was better.’ Berenger’s mouth quirked, his eyes shifting from the flowers, amused and warm. ‘Yes, you’re a little more expensive.’

THEY SHOULD STAY FRIENDSSSS please!!! i want to see their odd couple not a couple adventures as neither of them actually falls in love bc they’re married to the grind (literally for ancel, figuratively for berenger). then again, we know that ancel doesn’t actually like being a pet, so i can see how this ends up a romance that works. but STILL

'I like feeling—’ Like part of it. Like the master of it. Like he had power over the men, like if they wanted him they had to pay a fortune for it. Like he was more valuable than the wine goblet Berenger held, or the silver pitcher a servant had poured from. Like he mattered.

ancel understands exactly how this stronger man/weaker man thing works, in that the weakest man is the one who forces others to the bottom so he can be on top. but berenger doesn’t do that, except for appearances. and he’s very clear that he knows it’s all bullshit too.

‘Perhaps I ought to think of it more like that.’ ‘How do you think of it?’ ‘I think,’ said Berenger, ‘that the only person in this place who shows me their real face is you.’

berenger: i’d probably be happier if i just allowed myself to enjoy the luxury and debauchery ancel: wait so what do you think instead berenger: that this is all fake and stupid as hell, and you’re the only one with the awareness to understand that and use it

‘I can make everyone look at me.’ There was the familiar frown, like an old friend. ‘Ancel, I told you I don’t want—’

“like an old friend” because he IS your friend, because he appreciates you for who you are, not for the ways you can perform

Gasps as they burst into flame, and Ancel tossed the stick high, a spinning wheel of dangerous light.

how did he like. learn how to do this. this isn’t something you can just do on a whim. although i guess it does suit ancel to play with fire

That was part of the thrill, sensuality and danger. He had everyone’s attention now. He tossed and twirled, and it was easy, all of it coming back to him, his childhood days before his profession had changed, before the escalating series of favours, until the moment he had finally agreed to it. You have to pay me extra. It’s my first time.

very effective way to give backstory: he was a performer, and then someone propositioned him for sex, and then he realized the possibilities of going into that kind of work full-time. it put the power in his hands, and people did in fact pay him more when he asked.

‘You’re full of talents, aren’t you,’ said a boy’s voice, and Ancel turned. The boy was very lovely and very young, with huge blue eyes and a tumble of brown curls.

my heart hurts

‘Since you like to play with fire,’ said Nicaise.

extremely bittersweet to have nicaise say one of my own thoughts

‘I’ve heard that Berenger likes women, and that he disappears sometimes from court, so that he can—’ Ancel flushed. He left the main hall and made straight for Berenger, who was sitting in an adjoining antechamber, on one of the long reclining couches, amid a handful of acquaintances, talking in small relaxed groups. ‘Kiss me,’ said Ancel as he settled, one knee on the couch on either side of Berenger’s thighs, his hands linked behind Berenger’s neck. ‘What?’ said Berenger. ‘On the mouth,’ said Ancel.

yeah they invented reverse bearding

Berenger was beginning to frown. Ancel thought, with a burst of irritation, I know you don’t want to, but can’t you just pretend? How hard was it? Ancel pretended all the time. Berenger had a reputation to maintain. But if Ancel said that, Berenger would probably reply with something idiotic like his own reputation didn’t matter to him.

ancel is so perceptive, compared to damen it’s like. jarring

It didn’t feel impersonal. He was instead extremely conscious that it was Berenger that he was kissing.

uh oh

His lips were tingling from kissing Berenger, and that didn’t seem to make sense.

UH OH

‘Like you mean it,’ said Ancel, and kissed him again.

UH OH!!!!

‘My lord,’ he said, and he sounded turned on, which was how he was supposed to sound. ‘Berenger.’

love ancel being in denial about having feelings

Ancel closed his eyes. He could imagine exactly what Berenger liked, lovemaking in the dark with a young man in a plain shirt. If they ever—Ancel would have to feign at least a degree of innocence, physically experienced but emotionally unprepared, looking up at Berenger and saying it’s never been like this before. He imagined that: imagined Berenger kissing him in private. A strange shaky feeling grew in him. Berenger would kiss with the same seriousness as he was now, he probably fucked like that too, strong and steady. Berenger’s voice in his ear, roughened. ‘You’re so good at faking it.’ ‘I know,’ Ancel said. ‘I know I’m good.’

ancel is down BAD for this brown jacket man, holy shit

‘How long do we have to stay here?’ Berenger said. ‘What?’ said Ancel. ‘How long do you normally take?’ said Berenger.

wait. so ancel in the garden scene. was half trying to make berenger jealous and half trying to convince himself that he’s better off doing what anyone else but berenger would ask him to do. and failing to convince himself entirely. LOVE that alternate perspective, so cool!!

It took a moment before he understood the words, and their meaning. But the way Berenger was standing off from him, like a man who has had his evening interrupted for a charade in which he has little interest, made everything clear. Ancel pushed down the feelings in his chest, closing his eyes briefly.

ouch

‘All right,’ said Berenger, and stood there, awkwardly. Ancel heard himself say, ‘Unless, do you want—’ Me. Do you want me.

i love how free will continues to be a theme in this series, even when we’re not discussing damen and laurent. specifically regarding desire and attachment, romantic and sexual. ancel doesn’t actually want to be the person he pretends he is, lowering himself beneath his masters and helping them get off on the power they have over him; he wants to be understood and wanted for his whole self. and berenger is like the only person he’s ever met who has wished to see him as something other than a sex object or performance piece, the only person who doesn’t wish to intimately possess or control him. berenger seems to want to experience love on even footing, which in vere is highly unusual. no wonder ancel is desperate for his interest, when his interest is actually REAL.

He thought, he could make Berenger like it.

free will theme again! he made berenger like it, it wouldn’t be real. and ancel wouldn’t like it either.

‘I think we both know this isn’t working,’ Berenger said in a low voice. ‘This,’ said Ancel. Berenger wasn’t looking at him. ‘I’ll pay out your time in full. We can separate after you perform for the Patran delegation. You can tell people your contract simply came to the end of its time.’ ‘You’re ending our contract,’ said Ancel.

BRUTAL. and the thing is, berenger is being kind and selfless here. ancel has told him with words and actions that he only cares about upward social mobility, and has made it seem like berenger is holding him back. berenger is putting himself at a huge disadvantage in the regent’s court by letting ancel find another employer, but probably feels like this is the best way he can genuinely honor ancel’s stated wishes. sad little miscommunication moment, although i don’t think it’s fully that trope because ancel only subconsciously realized how he feels like five minutes ago

‘Everyone will want you after your performance. You won’t have trouble finding men to bid for you—’ ‘I know,’ said Ancel. ‘I’m the best pet at this court.’

ancel does his fire dance to “my kink is karma” by chappell roan as he desperately tries to repress his feelings

He didn’t know why, but the next day when Ancel saw Berenger talking in a low voice to Lord Droet’s pet, it made him angry, and he stalked out of the stuffy, overlit rooms, into the cool shade of the gardens.

oh, captive prince chapter 5 dubcon (and that’s generous) scene that damen took way less seriously than myself or even laurent because he (damen) grew up with sex slaves so this is kinda normal to him. oh, captive prince chapter 5 dubcon scene that, despite its problematic nature, was and still is extremely compelling to me, by which i mean unfairly hot

It was the Ambassador to Vask, her face familiar to him from a dozen evening entertainments. Ancel knew her sculptured style of dress well, the Vaskian elements she incorporated into her clothing. She had the straight-backed posture and poise of a woman used to power.

VANNES HIIIII VANNES

Vannes spoke. ‘You and Berenger are utterly mismatched. And you’re clearly ambitious. I hope you won’t hurt him too badly when you move on.’

she sees the version of ancel that he knows is wrong for himself, but he’s leaning into it because berenger’s kinda-rejection hurt so bad

Everyone would think what Vannes thought, that Berenger couldn’t hold Ancel and Ancel was moving on to someone better.

i like how this is so high stakes to ancel, for good reason, but we know that there are way higher stakes batshit insane things happening with damen and laurent right now. but ancel doesn’t care about damen and laurent. he cares about himself and berenger. just a really cool way of showing another pov for the same story!

Ancel thought of the impossible. For pets, it was epitomised by one man. The Prince. The Prince, who had never taken a pet. The Prince, who had never taken anyone, or been taken, so they said. They said he was frigid, that he had ice in his veins, that pets failed to interest him. But there was one person who had the Prince’s complete attention.

YHRWYOEGRUYWEGRUYWERHBFSDF

By the time Berenger and the others arrived, Ancel knew exactly what he was going to do.

i LOVE having this context, wow! it doesn’t really change the nature of the original scene, but adds dimension in a super satisfying way. i also really like how this works with the general vibe of book 1—it feels so isolated and depraved to read, you’re wondering “holy shit is everyone here besides damen just a terrible person?” and that’s the point, but with this addition from another perspective it’s like, hey, berenger was there the whole time. normal nice decent guy, caught up in the same shit as everyone else. who had only been trying to be kind to ancel and give him what he wanted, and most certainly did not want him to do what he does here. it reminds me of loyse, and the way she’s incorporated into the main series—so much of damen and laurent’s experiences early on are defined by struggling alone, but they’re both less alone than they thought, both in terms of sympathetic company and people dealing with the same problems they have. this is seen both in the way they are with each other, especially with the slow burn of 'Laurent is Not As Bad As Damen Thought He Was With More Context,' and the way people like loyse are slowly revealed by the narrative. it's just neat. if i ever re-read captive prince, i’ll be like, “oh it’s berenger!!!” and the scene will, in some small way, feel less isolated.

Physically imposing, and dripping with disdainful pride, he looked as though he could break any handlers in half.

love this description of damen as having “disdainful pride,” because so much of his internal narrative is considering himself a victim, which he is. but also, he is very disdainful towards this society, and prideful about his own. damen himself admits that he had prejudices and misjudgments towards vere and blind spots regarding his own society at the end of king’s rising, and it’s cool to see ancel get that impression immediately.

The younger blond slave pressed his forehead submissively to the floor, a pose that seemed designed to make you want to step on his head. Ancel found himself unaccountably irritated by the passivity.

obviously both systems are bad, but if you read my main series annotations you know i’m very much in agreement with ancel here

Berenger was frowning.

normal! reaction!

He looked scornful and unimpressed when his eyes passed briefly over Ancel, Berenger and Vannes. His only movement was to shift slightly, a rearrangement of muscle.

i looooove seeing damen from the outside, wow

Arriving in the bower, the Prince of Vere was instantly commanding, with nothing soft or yielding in him. A young man with golden hair, cold blue eyes and an arresting profile, he had a pet’s looks and a Prince’s bearing, laced up tighter than Berenger, in dark, severe clothing. He looked capable of mastering the slave through force of will, as though the slave’s discomfort was his pleasure.

good to see, in this case, that laurent is very much perceived exactly how he is trying to be perceived. we know that this is for his own safety, and it isn’t harming ancel at all. unlike in captive prince book 1, where damen is being directly harmed by laurent and his rancid vibes, albeit for stronger reasons (he knows who damen is) than either damen or the reader understand.

‘Ancel, no. He could hurt you.’ Ancel ignored Berenger, and spoke to the shoulders and back of the Prince.

this is so cool. when i read the original scene, it seemed like berenger said this out of like, petty distate for akelions and maybe jealousy. but now we know it’s because berenger thinks that this is all fucked up, and doesn’t want ancel to get hurt by his own ambition

‘Would you like that?’ Berenger frowned. ‘No. I wouldn’t.’

“would you like that [i get hurt]?” oh ancel :( and you know that he thinks berenger would, or at least wouldn’t care either way. because ancel is just 20 and emotionally undeveloped and seems not to have been truly cared for in his life

again, i assumed originally in this scene that unnamed berenger said “no i wouldn’t” because of jealousy. but that isn’t true! berenger already told ancel that he can leave! he just actually cares about ancel!

The Prince turned, and Ancel found himself the sole subject of the Prince’s attention.

i like that we know he isn’t, because the only living people capable of completely hijacking and consuming laurent’s large capacity for thought are the regent and damen

‘I think your master would prefer you intact,’ said the Prince.

in captive prince, it adds, “said laurent, dryly.” but it’s not dry to ancel, he doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that laurent is deeply unamused

‘You could tie the slave up.’ He saw the moment the Prince took in the idea. There was something more in the Prince’s eyes, something private, though it was only there for a moment, before the Prince’s expression hardened.

well yeah, but he’s not thinking about you, ancel.

Ancel looked Berenger right in the eyes. ‘Tell me how you want me to fuck him.’ ‘I don’t want you to fuck him,’ said Berenger. ‘I do,’ said Ancel. ‘I want to do it with you watching.’

new dialogue, things damen didn’t hear! i think i kinda explored what’s going on here in previous annotations

You mean with the Prince watching, Berenger didn’t say.

this is strange. at first it seems like uncharacteristic pov head jumping, but then it’s like no, this is what ancel THINKS berenger isn’t saying. ancel cannot imagine that berenger’s reluctance here could be for any other reason than, like, petty jealousy of the prince. when in reality berenger just cares about ancel and doesn’t want him to get caught up with insane terrible people

Instead, Berenger frowned in that way that he had, turned to the handlers, and gave some instructions about safety.

so they DO have safe words in vere. although maybe berenger just invented them, that sounds like something he would do

Drawn by the rarity of the spectacle, a few other courtiers had drifted over, and then a few more, a small audience gathering.

love the mention of rarity, since damen assumes that this is totally normal

Ancel didn’t need Berenger. He was going to do it with the Prince’s slave, in front of everyone. No other pet had ever won the Prince’s attention.

ancel i know you were just dumped for the first time but this is not the slay you think it is

The slave’s eyes lifted to meet Ancel’s for a moment, radiating fury, before he turned the full force of it on the Prince, who just stared back at him coldly.

don’t worry about it. they’re fine

He wasn’t a court pet, or a brothel client. He was an Akielon, named for the Akielon prince-killer.

oh my god. imagine ancel’s reaction when he learns that he had unknowingly given the future king of akielos a bj

Ancel could see, as he put his hands on those thighs, that the slave disliked him. That was irritating. Did he think Ancel was salivating to suck his cock? Pets had to do things they didn’t like all the time.

obsessed with the way ancel is projecting berenger onto this. a really neat subversion of the way he intentionally and performatively projected that other guy in order to win his favor. also fun because in the scene from damen’s perspective, ancel is very literally a projection of laurent. neither ancel nor damen are imagining this with the person actually doing it with them. is this what the “mutually unrequited sex” ao3 tag is for

It had been a long time since Ancel had given head, thanks to Berenger’s prudery. It was disconcerting, uncomfortable at first, like he didn’t want to be this close, or put his mouth on it. He pushed past the feeling. He was good at this. He knew what to do and how to do it. The uncomfortable feeling grew. The slave was too stupid to realise he was supposed to be performing.

the way it’s almost a good thing that ancel is uncomfortable right now, because it means that he’s in some small way breaking out of the fucked-up mentality he’s grown up with

love damen and ancel as foils, in terms of pride. ancel takes pride in his willingness to get his hands dirty and perform submission for social clout, damen takes pride in his unwillingness to get his hands dirty (compromise his morals) and give his submission to those who don’t deserve it. but while damen's pride is held up by honor and integrity, ancel's is held up by his own degradation.

How had he ever achieved a court position, with skills this poor? Wasn’t he trying at all?

if you really think about it, damen was a nepo hire

Ancel felt the slave jerk, his cock hardening as the Prince settled himself on the bower seat alongside them.

well, damen, i guess someone noticed how you feel about laurent

i don’t even think laurent fully notices how down bad damen is for him at this point. i think laurent just believes damen is a depraved pervert ruled by his base urges who uses sex slaves and finds him hot just like everyone else and also KILLED HIS BROTHER

‘Like this?’ The wait was deliberate, to make the Prince say it. ‘Like that.’

5d three-way dirty talk happening here. it’s not four ways because berenger definitely has clocked out by now

‘Take it all the way down,’ said the Prince, and Ancel took it deep into his throat.

i like how laurent’s dialogue is slightly different between the two scenes, and damen doesn’t register some of it, and ancel doesn’t register some of it. cool way of writing the different perspectives and showing the things that are distracting both of them, causing them to think about things other than laurent’s words. ancel is mostly thinking about how he can do this in a way that gets him noticed and hired, while damen is mostly thinking about how absurdly turned on he is by laurent being insane

Ancel half expected the Prince’s hand on his head, pushing him down the last inch, but when he glanced up, neither of the men were paying him any attention, their eyes locked on one another.

sorry ancel, they gaze a lot. it’s kind of their thing

He came up without coughing or needing a breath, a cultivated skill that was often admired.

not by damen or laurent, at the moment

It didn’t matter that the Prince didn’t seem pay him any attention, or that he was only a conduit. The slave wasn’t even looking at him. It was what he wanted.

ancel when he lies

The two of them were locked together, Ancel utterly forgotten as he rose unsteadily to his feet.

god that sucks ancel but it’s also so fucking funny (as i said in the capri chapter 5 notes, i am not taking the dubcon as seriously as i could because the book doesn’t take it seriously in this scene. damen’s rage isn’t at the lack of consent, because this is actually pretty normal to him, and not seen as demeaning in his society for a slave to do. i think more than anything else he’s mad at himself for being into this, which means that he’s mad at laurent and ancel for making him confront the fact that he’s into this)

Courtiers crowded around with accolades, comments, and congratulations. ‘You really are the perfect pet,’ and ‘I’ve never seen anyone take it like that,’ and, ‘I’d pay a fortune for you.’

but it doesn’t matter, because they’re not berenger

Berenger had a hand on his shoulder and was staring into his face. Ancel lifted his chin. ‘Did he hurt you?’ The words were short.

😭 😭 😭 😭

‘I liked it,’ said Ancel. ‘I like sucking cock. I’m a pet.’

ancel when he continues to lie

Torveld, Prince of Patras

oh i hate that guy

It was the blond slave from the bower. The insipid, spineless creature who made you want to pinch his skin, or shake him to wake up. Like a useless doe in a forest. Expecting someone else to help him. With looks like that, the blond slave could have owned this court if he’d put any work into it. Instead he was trembling and helpless and waiting for a rescue that was never going to come. It was irritating.

yeah. if not for my distance from both of these worlds, and the fact that i can afford to be more empathetic and thoughtful than ancel, this is about where i’d land too re: akelion slaves. (if you read my previous annotations of the series, i probably don’t have to tell you that.) i just like how strongly and disdainfully this is written, while still within itself being flawed. like he’s right, but it’s a sad kind of right. it’s pointing out the problem but disinterested in a solution. but it isn’t ancel’s job to have a solution, it’s the narrative’s job. and we see that happen, in a very careful slow burn from damen’s pov, during the main series.

i can’t believe people think that this series is slavery apologism. 99% of the time, this series is DETERMINED to hold itself painfully and uncomfortably responsible for the problematic content it contains. and that 1% is different for every person who reads it, based on their personal tastes and values. and that’s good, because even our favorite fiction should be something we engage with critically, rather than passively accept.

‘A whole night with the Regent?’ Ancel twirled the stick. ‘Aren’t you jealous?’ ‘I’m not jealous,’ said Nicaise. ‘You’re old.’

‘Then the Regent will call you to attend him. Everyone will see you sitting with him. That’s what you want, isn’t it? The bids for your contract will go up.’

i’m going to try to remember why this is happening. i know it’s some elaborate and probably petty bullshit. i think it’s something like 1) laurent got his ethics called into question by the guy who killed his brother and then 2) decided to do what damen asked and help the akelion slaves because he knew it was the right thing even though he hated damen so bad, therefore 3) laurent needed to create circumstances that would cause torveld to “save” them from the regent without his (laurent's) direct intervention so 4) laurent antagonized nicaise into making a bet that his (laurent’s) plan to get torveld to take the slaves wouldn’t work and then loudly talked about that plan in front of nicaise, prompting 5) nicaise to arrange a sadistic performance of slaves for the regent so the sadistic regent would want to keep the slaves, therefore winning nicaise the bet against laurent 6) which laurent knew would literally backfire because the fire would frighten the slaves and then prompt to torveld take them out of sympathy and pity. yeah i think that's it

It made Ancel angry. This mewling creature who had been brought to court and lavished with every opportunity that Ancel had worked for, was doing nothing to advance his own career, even now. But in the next moment Prince Torveld was calling the slave over, and—rather than booting him out of the hall—was fussing over him, talking to him, stroking his tousled blond head. Ancel gaped. Prince Torveld was taking the slave into his household? For what? For being too weak to survive at court? The unfairness was terrible. If Ancel had wanly lain down and waited for a rescuer, he would have died in the street.

i really like this short story. i like ancel’s character, and what the story is trying to say. it fits very nicely with the overall series themes about weakness/strength, submission/domination, and free will. also intimacy and trust, although that’s almost by omission.

‘Tell me about your master,’ the Regent said. ‘Lord Berenger.’ ‘He’s boring,’ said Ancel. ‘Serious. Loyal.’ ‘Loyal to my nephew,’ said the Regent. He spoke pleasantly, tweaking Ancel’s hair as he did so. The sharp tug hurt.

WOAH THIS IS COOL. we hardly got to see any of the regent’s private contributions to the complicated vere court nonsense in captive prince (there was that scene where he talked to damen alone, but that might have been it?)

‘Loyal to the throne.’ Ancel’s heart had started beating faster.

i like how the regent equates his nephew with the throne. so different from how he talks to laurent in front of the council. clearly, out of earshot of anyone who actually matters politically, the regent is threatened by his nephew.

‘I’ve heard he’s met with my nephew, several times. What was discussed?’ ‘I couldn’t say. I wasn’t there for the meetings.’ He kept his tone light. ‘So there were meetings.’

berenger you’re so real for that

His mouth felt dry suddenly, and it was hard to swallow. He thought of Berenger in the hall somewhere behind him, wondered if Berenger was looking at him, thought he probably wasn’t. ‘No. I mean that I don’t know—I don’t know what meetings he’s taken.’

ancel can tell that berenger is in danger, and even though he thinks berenger wants nothing to do with him, he tries to protect him

‘Oh dear.’ The tone was disappointed. ‘I thought you were clever.’ The Regent shifted, forcing Ancel to reposition, awkwardly. He was motioning for one of the servants to approach, looking past Ancel as though he was done with him. ‘I am.’ Ancel’s heart was pounding. ‘You just haven’t asked the right question.’ ‘And what’s that,’ said the Regent. ‘If I’m loyal,’ said Ancel.

and here’s the temptation of ancel finally getting what he’s always said he wanted, he just has to throw berenger under the bus. he tries to avoid this by making berenger irrelevant and putting the attention on himself, but we know that the regent does not give a shit about ancel, politically or sexually.

Ancel watched him turn away, watched him enter the darkened part of the rooms that held his bed, beginning to unlace his own jacket. ‘I didn’t tell him anything.’ The words were a blurt, delivered to the back of Berenger’s shoulders. Berenger’s movement came to a halt.

i really like ancel.

‘About you and the Prince. That you’ve been meeting secretly each night. That you’re taking his side, that you’ve offered him funding and passage through Varenne, I didn’t tell him any of that, I thought that you—’

oh shit it’s that deep!!! fuck yeah berenger! wait does that mean that berenger had been loyal to laurent and thinking he was an admirable person for months/years only to see laurent in full sadistic kinky joker mode with a person who he doesn't know is laurent's brother's killer? do you think he was like "oh great, he's actually a freak too. fuck my life"

Berenger turned. Berenger was across the room, his hands on Ancel’s arms, gripping him tightly, his eyes boring into Ancel’s. ‘Stop it. You’re spoiling my clothes. I didn’t tell him. I told you. I didn’t tell him anything.’

oh, ancel immediately thinks he’s going to be punished and stripped of the nice things he’s been given. that’s so fucking sad :(

‘How do you know about any of that?’ ‘Just because I like nice things, and don’t read the boring books you like, doesn’t mean I’m stup—’ ‘This isn’t a game, Ancel.’

most! normal! man! in! this! series!

‘I’m trying to secure my future! I need to go somewhere. After you—after you end my contract.'

true, and explains some of the desperation ancel typically chooses not to acknowledge because of his pride

‘So that’s it. You want gifts?’ Berenger said, in a flat, deadly voice, ‘Are you trying to blackmail me for money?’ Ancel felt his mouth turn to sand. ‘No.’

ancel doesn’t want gifts! he wants a friend!!! i love this story, especially in this shitty world!!!!

‘I don’t want—I told you, I didn’t tell him anything. I wouldn’t. I was your pet, I thought we—I don’t want your money like that—’

going to be HUGE when ancel learns how healthy friendships and relationships work. people just do nice things for each other, and are loyal to each other, because they care and it’s what they want to do

‘You must hate me.’ ‘Hate you?’ said Berenger. ‘Why would I hate you? You’ve always been honest with me. You never tried to hide what you were.’ ‘A whore,’ said Ancel.

oh fuck.

really, really good choice of a word there. it’s easy to get caught up in the insane gimmicks of the veretian court, the slight dark humor to it, the way pets act like they’re playing the game willingly because this is a way for them to be treated well and showered with praise. but deep down, this system exists so they can be perceived as whores, belonging and submissive to people whose power rests on their degradation. and deep down, that’s how they feel about themselves.

goddamn, it is cool to see the worldbuilding expanded upon from this perspective.

‘So what if I am? I’m not ashamed of it. I’m good at it. I can make men want me.’ His voice felt raw. ‘It just doesn’t work on you.’

FREE WILL, POWER, AND TRUST THEMES DING DING DING

Berenger would be just one more owner, one more man from his past, one more name on a list. There was a hard pressure in his chest that he had to ignore. He would turn and walk away from it, he would move on to the next man, and the next. ‘It works on me,’ said Berenger.

okay, i like it being romantic, i think. because just like damen and laurent, their friendship and romance are deeply connected. and i’m glad that these two characters can find each other and be REAL in the midst of the fake nonsense

The words, in Berenger’s honest voice, at first didn’t make sense.

ancel can’t accept praise if he knows the person giving it is being honest, understands who he truly is, and expects nothing in return. girl same

‘You’ve never—’ ‘You never wanted me to.’ ‘Is that what you think?’ said Ancel. ‘Yes,’ said Berenger, steadily.

berenger clocked that ancel didn’t really want to be any of this long before ancel did, and has always respected that. i’m glad that he exists in this world.

‘If the Regent prevails, I won’t have money or lands. You should be with someone who can give you the luxuries you deserve, not someone who’ll embroil you in—’ ‘That’s why?’ said Ancel. ‘That’s why you decided to break my contract?’ He made sense of that much. And he clung to it. He wanted to ask, Does that mean you’re not giving me up because you don’t want me? He didn’t know how to ask that. He was usually so good at asking for what he wanted.

this is so fucking good. oh my god, this short story has been like a masterclass of creating a contained and intimate plot that develops a character individually and in relation to another character, while using the world around them to synthesize relevant and gratifying thematic development. it just comes together so perfectly, and simultaneously feels laser-focused and extremely wide in scope. SO good.

‘Can you honestly tell me that you’d want to stay with me if it meant risking your position?’ Berenger said. ‘If I had no money?’ ‘I’ve never fucked anyone without it being for money.’ The words came out differently than he’d intended. The painfully straightforward way that Berenger had asked him that question meant that Ancel had given an honest answer.

they’re matching each other’s freak, if "freak" means “honest person moving towards a healthier state of mind.” meanwhile, damen and laurent—

It was Berenger who spoke. ‘When I saw you in the ring, I thought you were incredible. You were fearless, powerful. You took on every lord in the room, and beat them. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.’

oh i go crazy for “i want to possess you because i am compelled by your unique and attractive qualities and i want to keep you by my side, not because i want to degrade and reduce you until you’re beneath me.” which is probably why i really like the captive prince series by cs pacat, but not like 80% of fiction with similar kink-related premises

‘I don’t care what might happen.’ He was moving forward, because Berenger wanted him.

oh.

those two sentences didn’t quite get me to tear up, but uhhhh they came pretty close

‘If he fails,’ said Ancel. He was stepping into Berenger’s space. He put his hand on the laces of Berenger’s jacket, and Berenger didn’t move away. ‘But if he wins?’

:’) the metatextual conversation this story has been having with the reader the entire time, tied in perfectly with the events at the forefront. really, really well done.

final notes:

not going to lie, i think i liked this short story more than 40-60% of king’s rising. damn.

honestly, i kind of hope ancel and berenger don’t end up together immediately. berenger is still 10 years older than ancel, and is like the first person in ancel’s life to show him respect. what rings truest to me is the idea of them being close friends and allies especially during the turbulent wartimes, and hooking up a few times and enjoying it, but a much more confident ancel eventually considering other partners and at least making more friends. either ancel doesn’t end up romantically with berenger because there’s someone even better suited for him romantically and sexually, or he decides that he truly does want berenger because even though there are other people who would love him for who he is, none of them are berenger. either way, they’re close friends the entire time and it’s very sweet. i like them a lot.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Hopelessly Devoted

BuckyBarnes x Reader

summary: It's so simple sometimes. You meet the right person, and it all falls into place. Bucky never imagined he'd get this lucky. So what better way to remember it than on the second-best day of his life?

a/n: Hi, this is me describing every Bucky fangirl’s experience ever… and then a little more. This might be a song imagine? I don’t know, it’s heavily inspired at least.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none, really, none - everything is good here, stay as long as you like 💕 - fluff

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

consider listening to: Butterflies (feat. AURORA) - Tom Odell

“Hi, I’m Bucky.”

That was all it took. That was it. Three simple words and you were at a loss for yours. 

He had that charm hidden in the corner of his smile and still evident even now. A confident smugness is etched on his features when he flirts with you. But you have learned that it is not just there, in the dark edges of his lips. It is in the crinkles of his eyes when he laughs, too. It is in the touch of his fingertips when they stroke over your skin. And it is in the whisper of his voice when he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear. 

‘Follow me.’ He’d say, dragging you down alleyways in Brooklyn and telling you stories upon stories of his and Steve’s adventures a hundred years ago. And you would listen, hang onto his lips like sugar, eyes big and wondrous in childlike admiration. Bucky would tell you every little detail, simply because he loves seeing the expressions on your face turn. You listen to him - actually, listen. And while he’d been in positions like this in his life before, especially as a Sergeant, he has never experienced this kind of attention. Your listening is laced with adoration and love and respect and awe and so many more beautiful things that prevent him from ever stopping to tell you about his past. 

He is not that open, normally. Not towards many people, at least. And you know that, which is why you also have a tinge of gratefulness within your attention. It is also the reason you let him talk for hours. Even if sleep fights to overtake your mind, even if you have important things to do, even if the world would come crashing down, you’d listen to him. Because Bucky is special.

It didn’t take long for you to realize just how special he is to you. But it sure took some time for you to say something. 

Months of pining and watching him from corners of the room, wishing you were in his arms instead. They’re warm and strong, and the kisses that accompany them when he encases you in them hold so many promises. 

Now he’s yours. And he’s about to make that promise forever.

❁ ❁ ❁

Klick, klick... bam!

There, it happened.

He’s in love. Just like that - clicked into place like the puzzle piece he never knew he missed. 

It is a little scary, but who cares when it feels like that? Like thunder and warm tea, like cuts and soothing kisses, like... butterflies. But wild ones, the ones brave enough to fly out in the storm. He’s invincible when he’s with you. There is nothing holding him back from being on top of the world. And it's the strangest feeling, really. 

There are no more empty heartbeats pumping cool blood through a body he was sure has died many years ago. The second you look at him, all of him comes back to life. He is able to experience living again. And he wants to do it with you - over and over again. God, people have told him how incredible this feeling is, but experiencing it is like unlocking a different part of himself. Sometimes Bucky feels as though he’s watching someone else’s life. And he’s just a random passerby that gets to experience a glimpse of his dream. But then your fingers graze his skin, and he is reminded that this is in fact real. You are real. And there is nothing more amazing than that.

From the first day, you had that kind smile and those special eyes - the ones that can see through every wall he tries to put up. You can see his emotions with them, Bucky is sure. And for the first time in a long, long, time, he’s not scared of having his mind read. It feels natural to let you do it - it feels safe. He wants to share it with you - especially the things he can’t say because he simply doesn’t know how. He’s grateful you have that power. 

So, Bucky knew it the second he met you, that you are impossible to get over, even if he’d never get to have you. But when he’s watching those promising eyes stare up at him, he cannot keep himself from smiling.

Now you’re his. And you’re about to make that promise forever.

❁ ❁ ❁

The audience is watching you intently, but there’s only Bucky and you. Everything else is a blur of white and green in your peripherals. Bucky is holding your hand, and the heat spreading from his body to yours relaxes you. His fingers are trembling a little, but Bucky doesn’t care. He’s happy. Possibly the happiest he’s ever been, and at the same time not the happiest he’ll ever be - because that is to come, with every day adding on to this one.

Your name falls from his lips and you gasp at the raspiness in his voice. “From the moment I saw you, I knew it. I knew you were my happiness.” A smile breaks through his face - even wider than the one before. “Two years ago, I thought I was okay. I thought I had arrived in the life destined for me. It wasn’t a great one, but it was better than anything I could have hoped for. And then you happened - just stepped into my life with that sunshine smile of yours - and I realized that you could give me so much more than I thought I needed. I’ve gotten so used to your warmth by now, but I’ll never take it for granted. I just...” Bucky has to stop and catch his breath, but when he does he smiles at you again and his eyes are soft. “I don’t think I would survive without you now.”

He’s crying, and there’s something so wonderful about the tears leaving his eyes. They wash him clean of all the fear his old self holds. There is nothing scary as long as he can face it with you.

“I love you, so much.” A look at your fingers in his, and a tear settles on your skin, shooting a wave of goosebumps up your arm. “You don’t know it, but you saved my life.”

His eyes lock with yours again. Warm blue swimming in salty water - they’re happy. He’s happy. You have not realized that you have held your breath the whole time. There was no way to concentrate on breathing when you could feel every word of his stroking through your body in warm heaves. Bucky bites his lip as he watches your eyes shine with tears as well. There is so much more he could say. He could fill a week’s worth of hours talking about how much he appreciates you - but he settles for the few vulnerable words he released for everyone to hear. The rest is for you to read in his touch and stare, in his smile and the kiss he is about to share with you. He’s getting all giddy thinking about it. He’s done it a million times before, but this is it. The Kiss that settles it all.

You send an encouraging smile his way, and he slowly nods as his hands squeeze yours softly.

“When you touch me, I feel butterflies.” Oh, you hadn’t planned to just blurt it out like that. But it just happened. There was so much swirling in your head, the text you have rehearsed is suddenly not enough to do him justice. A small giggle rustles through the crowd, but you don’t care how childish it sounds. It’s true, and it’s the best feeling ever.

“I’ve known it for so long, I have. But feeling it every day anew surprises me. You are amazing, and kind and so incredibly thoughtful. Being with you feels like being myself. And I love that you can make me feel this way.” A tear rushes down your cheek, and Bucky struggles to keep his hand in yours instead of wiping it away. “I’m so lucky - I think it every time I think of you. And I thank the universe for gifting me your heart. Because, for whatever reason, I was worth it.” You have to pause for a moment to catch your breath, but his touch grounds you. There are too many things you want to say, and it would still not be enough. So you settle for the most important one. “I love you, Bucky. I love you so much it hurts sometimes. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You share a shy look with him, letting all the feelings flow through your body. The room is listening in anticipation when you both say your ‘I-dos’ and even though you know there would not be any surprises, your chest feels freer in a way. Bucky struggles to let go of your hands to turn to Steve, who is handing him the ring. And as he slides the delicate metal on your finger, he can’t stop the small sob from escaping his lips. It’s too amazing, too overwhelming - but at the same time, a feeling he doesn’t want to let go of, either. Your hands tremble when they carefully trace over the gold carving on his vibranium finger. Whatever is said rushes by you in a blur and you can only register the smile on Bucky’s face brightening even more. His hands reach out to you and press you to his body until his nose touches yours and his thumb gently strokes over your cheek.

It’s the moment before the fireworks go off, the second before the sprint, the little shimmer of excited heart race before the confetti explodes in bright and vibrant colors.

“I’m gonna love you 'til the day I die,” you mouth in perfect unison before capturing that promise with a searing kiss, letting the explosion paint your love on the walls for everyone to see.

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