#and the fact i can’t be free ever nor can i do anything about this to permanently end things because i am a coward and because the worst

[kavehater]

Do I have to start saying not that anyone would care in that super duper passive aggressive way to guilt people into caring or what

[yinyuedijun]

CORRUPTIVE | ratiorine x masc reader

Ratio has been running himself ragged on a project. His blood pressure has been catastrophic, and his mood even worse. Aventurine offers a convenient outlet for his stress. (Or: You new boyfriend is a corrupting influence on you.)

3.2k words. written for @ficsforgaza's kinktober — prompt was double penetration (2 holes). reader is masc + afab (no surgery, explicit terms used), addressed as "boyfriend", "good boy", "baby". soft degradation, praise, 1 instance of name calling. pre-established romantic relationships with aventurine and dr ratio. divider by @/cafekitsune!

Ratio doesn't know why or how you ended up so besotted with Aventurine.

It isn't a matter of your intellect (of which you have in spades) nor your good-hearted nature (which is vastly different from the disposition of the gambler), though both make it puzzling that you would be so interested in the Stoneheart. It is simply that Ratio has never met a man as shy as you, and to this day he can’t fathom how you ever manage to entertain the gambler’s overt degeneracy both in and out of bed. When you’d first asked Ratio whether he would be comfortable with sharing you with the man, Aventurine’s arm hanging off your shoulder and a wicked smile on his face, he had been hardly able to believe it. Ratio even wondered if his synesthesia beacon was malfunctioning, and if by ‘sharing with’ you actually meant ‘rescuing from’.

“Don't worry, Doctor,” Aventurine had purred. “If you ever get jealous, you're free to join in on the fun.”

Ratio had bristled. Jealousy, at the time, implied to Ratio that he was irrational enough to fear that Aventurine might somehow steal you away from him if he did not choose to mutually participate in the relationship. But looking at the facts and at your behavioural history, it was simply inconceivable that Aventurine would be capable of ruining your bond. Logic dictated that your relationship with Ratio was too secure for it to dissolve simply because you were separately engaging in romantic relations with another man.

“Do what you want,” Ratio had said dispassionately and without hesitation. “It doesn't change anything between us. Do try your best to survive that insufferable attitude of his, though. You are free to come to me if you ever need a break from the gambler.”

Since you’ve begun seeing Aventurine, though, Ratio has begun to suspect that Aventurine had meant something else by jealousy. Something less related to the emotional dimension of sharing you and more to do with the physicality of it. Something about seeing you in the mornings-after and noticing the marks that Aventurine likes to litter across your neck. Something about how you seem more and more shameless every time you sleep with Ratio—how you seem able to take him deeper into your throat each time, how you seem to moan louder every time Ratio slides into you, how you now openly whine and beg to be filled by Ratio even though your cheeks are always hot with the embarrassment of doing so.

Something about how Aventurine seems to be training you to become unrepentantly needy for cock.

You are, again, a shy person. Your sex life with Ratio is largely reserved, fairly vanilla, and—and as far as he can tell—so satisfying that you never ask for anything else when he suggests it. I’m not very adventurous, you’d once laughed at him, more than a little sheepish. But dating Aventurine has clearly had a corruptive influence on you, and it had only become fully clear to Ratio the other day when he had moved to gently prep you, only for you to shake your head and reach between your legs, spreading yourself open for him.

“I-it's okay,” you’d panted, barely able to talk through the haze of your lust. “Aventurine already stretched me out earlier—see?”

When Ratio saw that your hole was not only gaping, but still dripping with Aventurine’s cum—he’d nearly passed out.

And now, as Ratio sits in his office, trying desperately to focus on revising the latest RFP from the Intelligentsia Guild while he listens to the rhythmic creak of your bed in the other room, the obscene noise of Aventurine’s hips slapping against your own as he pounds into you—

Well. Ratio admits that it should not have taken him so long to understand the meaning of ‘Join in on the fun’. He supposes he should acknowledge his own idiocy when he is guilty of it.

He would rather die than acknowledge that he does want to join the two of you, though.

Ratio is, for the millionth time, revisiting the blasted black hole information paradox: his least favourite problem in the entire field of quantum mechanics. He has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, but he does sometimes wish to have less knowledge about this specific problem. Despite the fact that humanity has now colonised countless planets, asteroid belts, and moons, the exact properties of black holes remain an unknown that Ratio intends to eventually characterise. It's only a matter of time and effort—a great deal of which he's already spent, to no avail. Irritating, as it is a roadblock for a critical and time-sensitive project at the moment.

“Veritas,” you say, bringing him a bowl of hearty goulash that Aventurine had leisurely cooked during the time that Ratio had been slaving over these blasted equations, “you should take a break. You’ve hardly gotten any sleep for the past week.”

“Sleep can wait,” Ratio replies. His back aches, his wrists hurt, and his head is throbbing. His jaw aches from how much he's been grinding his teeth. “I am on the verge of a breakthrough—I will not rest until I’ve solved this.”

“But I'm worried about you,” you argue.

“I have no need for your worry,” he dismisses—snaps—and he knows he’s gone too far when he sees your brow furrow.

Aventurine, of course, manages to somehow be there. Why he's emerged from the kitchen to spectate on the two of you is a mystery to Ratio, but the Stoneheart appears to be openly and genuinely displeased at the interaction. It is a rarity for him, as Ratio has observed a trend in which Aventurine is least likely to show distress when he's actually hurt, and most likely to feign hurt when he's in control. A negative correlation, so to speak. The man does not like to reveal his emotions. But Ratio can generally get a good read on the Stoneheart, and he can tell that Aventurine’s current frown is genuine.

The concern on his expression fades when you roll your eyes at Ratio. “Okay, you should sleep and eat. Someone’s hangry.”

Ratio clears his throat. Always quick to own his errors as soon as he recognises them, he says, “My apologies. That was beneath me.”

“It's fine.” You stand behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders. As soon as you begin to knead your hands, Ratio becomes acutely aware of a knot at the base of his neck that your fingers are quickly undoing. “I know you're just stressed. You’ve run yourself ragged, Veritas—you’re going to get sick at this rate. Can I help you relax?”

Ratio closes his eyes, tries not to melt at your touch. You aren't wrong, he thinks. Prolonged stress compromises the immune system, and falling ill would hardly do anything for his overtaxed mind. He should do something to relax. He thinks about stepping away from the desk for the first time in hours, sinking into a warm bath… with you there, obviously—so he may wash your back, run his hands along your hot skin, kiss your shoulder amidst all the steam and fragra—

“I have an idea of what may fix the Doctor’s worsening health,” Aventurine says, his sly voice shattering Ratio's pleasant fantasy. The academician scowls.

“I have no need for your ideas,” Ratio snipes in revenge.

“Are you sure, Doctor? Because it seems you're running short on them.” Aventurine’s neon gaze roves over the several monitors in front of Ratio, all of which display his failed models. Ratio is startled.

“You understand the work here?”

“Not at all,” Aventurine replies breezily. “It was just a lucky guess. Or maybe an obvious one.” He slinks closer, wearing a grin that is both familiar and gratingly handsome. Ratio might have even found it charming if he didn't have such an outrageous headache. “Either way, it's clear to me that you need a break, plus a way to work off some of that stress.”

“Neither of which require your assistance.”

“Perhaps not mine,” Aventurine agrees. He's smiling when he adds, “But maybe our boyfriend’s?”

Ratio’s eyes narrow. He decides that he doesn’t like the cunning in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Aventurine’s mouth curls in a wicked, wicked way. He gives you a quick glance, as if asking you for permission, but you don't say anything to stop him—even though you can't look at either of them in the eye.

“Well,” the gambler says, “the two of us have been talking, and it turns out that your boyfriend’s been having some very interesting daydreams involving you…”

Ratio can't believe that this is happening.

In the first place, he'd hardly been able to process Aventurine’s suggestion. Ratio has long deduced that that you’re now much more open in bed, more transparent in your lust, but a fantasy like this one is still unprecedented based on his prior experiences with you. He hangs onto his disbelief right until the moment that you’re nude in front of him, face pressed into his pillows, ass up while you present yourself to both men. Aventurine has expertly teased your holes, so both of them are clenching and pulsing, needing to be filled. You're keeping yourself spread for them both obediently, so Ratio can see perfectly the way your cunt begins to drool when Aventurine eases his fingers into your other hole.

“Did you know, Doctor,” Aventurine drawled, “how much your boyfriend enjoys having both of his holes fucked at the same time?”

Ratio swallows. Can't take his eyes away from your glistening cunt, the way it twitches each time Aventurine moves his fingers inside you. “We—we have never tried.”

“Huh. Guess I can't blame you—it took a while for us to get him there.” His eyes almost gleam, the strange violet of his irises filled with cunning. “We had to go real slow with the toys, you know. I trained him pretty well, but”—Aventurine’s gaze flicks down to where Ratio is hard and throbbing—“he’s still never taken something as big as you. Not while I'm already inside him, anyway.”

You let out a whimper at the observation. “Are you excited?” Aventurine coos. You squirm, as if trying to push your hips toward them, and Aventurine laughs. “So needy. I’ve turned you into quite the cockslut, haven't I? But don't worry, baby. We’ll give you what you need soon enough—right, Doctor?”

Ratio struggles with a reply. He’s not talkative during sex beyond reassurances and encouragement, and perhaps the occasional curse. He doesn’t have a disposition for theatrics, and he certainly doesn’t have any inclination toward degrading ones. But Aventurine performs sex and decadence easily, his tongue silver and deft around his filthy words, his expressions nearly made for it. Ratio’s gut tightens when the gambler smirks at him, his cock twitching in his hand. I know what I'm doing to you, his face seems to say, and it leaves Ratio feeling at once irritated, out of his depth, and alarmingly horny.

For the sake of his blood pressure, Ratio turns his attention to you. The state that Aventurine has you in is obscene, panting and writhing as he eases a third finger into the tight ring of muscle that he’s trying to tease open. You moan a little, then whimper when Aventurine’s other hand finds your cunt. Ratio’s cock throbs at the noise that your pussy makes when Aventurine begins to tease it, dripping wet and embarrassing.

This is when you start to beg: “Please. Please, I'm ready, I promise. You don’t need to go slow, Aventurine, I promise, I can take—”

Your voice cuts out as Aventurine removes his fingers. Your holes are left empty, and Ratio can tell how badly you need them to be filled from the frustrated noise you make. Aventurine guides you into sitting, takes the opportunity to kiss you. “Since you asked so nicely,” Aventurine accedes, his lips moving against yours. He glances at Ratio after pulling away. “Well, then, Doctor—which of his holes would you prefer?”

Ratio swallows. He glances at your pleading expression, then at the space between your legs. At his hesitation, the corner of Aventurine’s mouth lifts. “Wait,” he says, “don’t tell me you’ve never tried anal?”

“Of course we have,” Ratio says curtly, almost defensive. Then he hesitates. “But we usually have… trouble.”

Ratio is large. It isn't a boast, but a factual statement, at least according to the statistics you once rattled off at him. It's challenging enough to make himself fit into your pussy; it’s an even longer process with your ass. He isn't sure from the way that you're begging that you can wait so long—and frankly, he isn't sure if he can either.

But gods, seeing Aventurine work you open for him like that…

Ratio’s concerns seem to have the opposite effect on Aventurine. He looks almost gleeful when he says, “Trouble? Oh, well, that settles it.” He cups your cheek, looks fond. “What do you think, baby? Can I use your cunt while Ratio fucks you from behind?”

You look deeply flustered, but you nod anyway. “Y-yes.” Your voice is trembling with excitement.

“Good boy,” Aventurine replies. He gives Ratio an appraising look, his eyes as hungry on him as they were on you. His gaze hardly strays from Ratio’s, even as he sits back and prompts you into straddling him. The position gives Ratio a maddening view of Aventurine’s length between your slick thighs. “Wanna give us a hand, Doctor?”

“You may run your mouth the whole night if I don't,” Ratio says dryly, and Aventurine laughs as the larger man places his hands on your hips. Aventurine pumps his length, lines himself up with your entrance. Ratio hears it when he nudges himself between your dripping folds, teasing you with the head of his cock.

“What, you don’t like my banter? Will you find other uses for my mouth later?” Aventurine teases, and Ratio is suddenly torn between thoughts of shoving his cock deep into Aventurine’s throat or making you ride Aventurine’s face. Both make for tantalizing images, and he decides he’ll revisit them later. He can already tell that the Stoneheart would find them equally appealing.

“We’ll see. For now”—Ratio begins to guide your hips down—“I’m sure there are other ways to get you quiet.”

Any witty retort dies on Aventurine’s tongue. He throws his head back as you sink onto his cock, overwhelmed, and Ratio can hardly blame him—he knows firsthand how good your cunt feels, always so tight and welcoming. You take Aventurine with more ease than you do Ratio, but not by much: it’s still an agonisingly slow and sweet process, getting your cunt to swallow the whole of him. Given complete control of your motions, Ratio guides your hips up and down, forcing you to take more of Aventurine’s length with each motion. He’s rewarded with the mesmerizing view of your pussy stretching out around the other man’s cock, leaving it glistening and creamy white with slick and pre.

When Ratio finally has you bottom out, Aventurine’s balls dripping with your arousal and pressed flush against you, the both of you let out strangled, broken groans. He lets you catch your breath before pulling you back so that Aventurine is pressed against your front walls, then pushes your belly for good measure. From the gasp you let out, Ratio can tell he's just forced the other man’s cock against your g-spot.

Aventurine’s eyes rove up and down your body, drinking in the sight of you. “Very good,” he purrs. “Are you ready to take Ratio now?”

“I—I think so,” you pant.

“I'll go slowly,” Ratio promises, and Aventurine watches carefully as he reaches for the lube.

“Don’t feel bad if you can't last,” he drawls, and Ratio tries not to scowl. How juvenile. The gambler must sense his disdain, because he shows his teeth in an almost-smile. “I'm being serious, Doctor. It feels very different from fucking someone by yourself, you know.”

“I’m certain I'll survive it,” Ratio says flatly. He pumps his cock once, twice, and Aventurine grabs your ass to spread you for him. Ratio starts pushing into you, begins stretching your tight hole around his girth. It has you shifting and squirming on Aventurine’s cock until Aventurine is forced to still you with his hands, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Be good now,” he says. “Stay still until we’re both inside you.”

“O-okay,” you say, voice watery, and Ratio almost feels bad at the whimper you let out when he pushes another inch inside you. Almost.

He can't help but mentally curse the other man as he slides into you. He hadn’t been lying. On a normal day, you're barely able to accommodate Ratio, but with Aventurine’s cock already deep in your cunt, sliding into you is even more difficult than usual. You feel almost unbearably tight and hot around him, and every time Aventurine moves inside you, Ratio can feel it—every twitch and press of the other man’s cock, barely separated by your walls. It's maddening.

It must be overwhelming for you, too. From the noises you're making, Ratio can tell you feel nearly at your limit. You’re choking by the time that Ratio is halfway inside you, your face thrown into Aventurine’s neck.

“I—I’m so full,” you gasp, and Aventurine hums soothingly as he kisses your nape.

“You can do it.” His eyes flicker to Ratio, who nods and keeps pushing. In a bid to help you relax, Ratio reaches between your legs and finds your sex. Your clit is swollen, neglected, and your hips jolt as soon as he starts rubbing it. Unwittingly grinding against Aventurine’s hips, you make the gambler groan at the motion, and the noise goes straight to Ratio's aching cock. He can hardly believe it when he finally manages to bottom out—leaking and twitching inside you, his balls heavy and tight against Aventurine’s.

“There,” Aventurine says, sounding fully in control even while breathless, “such a good boy, taking us both… we’re going to use your holes now, okay?”

Ratio knows that it's probably the praise that does it. As soon as you hear the words, you let out a familiar kind of whimper—pitched, frantic. “O-oh fuck,” you choke out, and suddenly Ratio feels your walls clenching hard around him, pulsing as your body tries to milk them both. He hisses and manages to hold back from his climax, but Aventurine is shameless about letting you drag him over the edge with you—Ratio can feel him twitching and spurting ropes of cum inside you, the pump of his cock as he begins to fuck you through your orgasm. Ratio can't tell if it's Aventurine’s cum or your squirt that's dripping onto him right now, only that the mess is making him throb inside you, and—

“Fuck,” he snarls, and he pulls out of you so that he can grab the base of his cock. He needs to cum so bad that it nearly hurts, but he doesn't allow himself to finish. Not yet.

You're incoherent with pleasure for a long while, your body a wanton mess between them, but Aventurine—never one to stay quiet for long—quickly recovers and regains control. He pulls out with ease, and Ratio is treated to the obscene sight of your empty holes, both gaping and leaking into their thighs, a mess of cum and pre and lube.

“See?” he pants, grinning at Ratio. “Hard not to cum, isn't it?”

Ratio has to breathe deeply to calm himself. “It did feel… different from usual,” he acknowledges.

“I'm sure,” Aventurine purrs. He glances at you, smiles fondly. “How do you feel?”

You make a euphoric, exhausted noise, and both of your partners understand it to mean that you’ve enjoyed yourself.

“Was that too much?” Ratio asks.

You make a noise that sounds like a No. Aventurine’s grin is sly; he glances at Ratio’s cock, still swollen and aching, and he kisses your forehead.

“Good,” he murmurs. Ratio can hardly believe it, but he can see Aventurine starting to stroke himself, already hardening again. “It looks like the good doctor is still in need of release. You won't mind helping him out for a little longer, will you?”

end

thanks for reading! <3 please do let me know if you enjoyed this, and remember to check out @ficsforgaza's fantastic writers and donate to the cause if you can!

[eamour]

appropiate what's yours.

we know we can manifest our dream lives, have your desires, yadda yadda yadda… but can you actually do it? see, the ability to manifest is something we all possess. but the willingness to actually act on that is something that some people may need practice in.

to desire and to decide.

to have a desire is easy. we all do, eventually. nevertheless, to claim a desire as yours and appropriate it as such is a whole other step. it requires you to be bold, decisive and focused on what you want to manifest. if you have no problem demanding and accepting things you want to have to be yours, that’s 1 good for you and 2 you are free to either skip this post or read along.

all states belong to you.

now, for those who still need a bit of assistance: you need to learn to declare things as yours. it is of importance to become comfortable in your mind and to realise that any desire, any state, and any feeling is accessible to you. they all belong to you and you shall act like it. there is truly nothing embarrassing, haughty or delusional about it.

the only creator of mind.

see, no one's gonna steal your desires from you. no one's going to say "no" and call you out for wanting things without earning or deserving them. in fact, no one could ever get in your way because they don’t have the free will to do so. people are just you pushed out, a reflection of your imagination, a physical embodiment of what has once only existed imaginatively. and that means… the only person who could possibly interfere with your plans is you. again, nothing and no one outside of you exists.

the mind is limitless.

in case no one has told you, your mind is actually yours! it belongs to you! so USE it. this may come off as a little funny since it’s quite self-explanatory but you are allowed to think the thoughts you desire to think, to feel the feelings you'd like to feel, to decide how your reality should look like according to your personal preference and accept it as such. it's all up to you because your mind is yours. i can’t get in there and tell you what to think of. i can't stop you. and i certainly can’t tell you "no, this is impossible/unrealistic/illogical to manifest".

don't wish, just be.

don’t tell me who you don’t want to be. don’t tell me what you wish, hope or pray to be. instead, tell me who you are. what is it that you want to have? what is it that you want to experience? how would you want your life to look like? whatever it is that you want — if you know what it is — appropriate it. stop holding yourself back by only desiring things. stop stopping yourself. we all have desires we would want to make a reality, so go further.

it is now yours, only.

take it. it’s yours. you have given it to yourself. it’s done. i cannot take it from you, your sp cannot do it either, nor does anyone have the power to remove anything from you what you have already identified with. if you say it’s yours, baby, then it has no other choice but to be yours …

with love, ella.

[starscabaret]

☆Meeting Yandere! Vincent ☆

pairing: yandere! Vincent x fem reader 

summary: Meeting Vinny <333

warnings: n/a 

authors note: 

Vincent had brushed into the small town a few months earlier on a contract for his engineering firm. The job paid well and he had little to no attachment anywhere so he made the move. He lived in an upscale condo about 30 minutes out from the actual town he’d be working in. Paid for by the company of course. 

He had a routine, call mom once a week, send a letter once a month, go to work every weekday, go to the gym every weekday, grocery shop on Sundays, and get a haircut every 3 weeks. Not much changed for him really unless it was necessary. 

He liked it that way, in his free time he drew, invested, and dabbled in a few books and tv. He wouldn’t call himself the happiest man alive, but he was getting by, and his mom was doing well. That’s all he ever wanted. 

Just like any other day on the job site Vincent set in his small office inside the mobile trailer going over blueprints and whatnot. That is until you came banging on the flimsy trailer door. Vincent thought the damn police were here. Lo and Behold when he opened the door there you were in pajamas, and slippers, and sleep still in your eyes. 

As soon as the door opened you spoke, “Look man, I really was nice at first and didn’t say anything but do y’all have to be so loud at 7 am? It’s waking me and my son.”

Vincent stood there deadpan he didn’t know what to reply. There was nothing he could really do to delay construction in the early hours without derailing the whole project. And normally he would have slammed the door in your face had it been anyone else. But you, you made his heart beat fast and he blanked on a response. Besides the fact that he was a man of very few words.

“Come in.” He said as he pulled you into the office like trailer.

“You seem to be the boss sir, is there anything you can do?” You said while rubbing your eyes.

“You must live in the house a few acres over, what’s your name?” He spoke low and grumbly.

“Yeah I do, it’s a family house but no one gives a shit anymore. All moved off to the big city, scared of the water. Oh, Im f/n l/n” you replied in an annoyed tone.  

“I can’t tell them to halt all work in the morning is there anything I can do instead?” He asked, wanting to remedy this. He didn’t want to upset you. You were alluring to him. This was also the most he had spoken to anyone in days.

“You come to explain to my son why you’re disrupting his sleep!” you said with irritation in your voice.

When Vincent got to your home to apologize to your son, he was met with Ben. Ben was a 3-year-old beautiful Doberman. 

Vincent was a bit relieved it was a dog and not a child, as he was already daydreaming about how he would give you your first child.

Vincent didn’t speak much or have the best social skills but he knew that his interest in you wasn’t normal. Nor did he know how to express such interest.

Good thing you found him handsome, and took interest in his quiet reserved demeanor. You had to know more, you had to dig past the surface. You were bold and willing to take charge and make the moves. You had never seen a man like him in your town before, or anywhere for that matter. 

You were happy you went and complained that morning. Who said complaining didn’t get you anywhere?

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Family Forever.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - this is a part two to this blurb, so feel free to read that before engaging in this one!!

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━━━━━━━━┓ 💫 ┏━━━━━━━━

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harryandynupdates, (Y/N) spotted in London yesterday with a baby bump!

tagged, yourinstagram

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harrysfinsta, so am I 🥹

sarahsfinsta , you’ll be joining the crew so soon

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enews, Harry Styles seen carrying a baby carrier after exiting a hospital yesterday in London after reports his wife (Y/N) was expecting!

click the link in our bio to find out more 📎

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harrystyles, Chester Robin-Harry Styles.

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(liked by yourinstagram)

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dailymail, You know it’s not the same As It Was! Harry Styles (29) has become a father for the first time with long time partner (Y/N) after announcing the beautiful name of there newborn son.

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username, this is one of the best things over actually ever heard in my life

username, can someone tell me why I’m crying please?

username, because Harry’s finally a dad

username, great now I’m crying even more

username, Chester is the cutest name I’ve ever heard

username, they could have used a better photo tbf

username, no cos fr

username, sobbing

username, that photo of them 😭

username, the fact that Chester has Harry in his name

username, ever the narcissist

username, and robin!

username, now when I read that my eye’s definitely watered

username, DILF DILF DILF

liked by username, username and 5,613 others

harryandynupdates, Harry and (Y/N) spotted going on a walk with baby Chester today in London!

tagged, yourinstagram, harrystyles

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username, this is actually the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life

username, the wave😭

username, I’m melting over here

username, he looks like such a good dad already

username, can’t get over the fact he’s officially A dilf

username, she looks so good even though she only just gave birth

username, the wedding ring on his hand 😭😭

username, her smile makes me smile

username, no cause same

username, she’s always got a smile on her face I’ve noticed!

username, can i join this family chat please and thanks 🙏

username, seeing him with the stroller is actually making me weak

username, my insides are melting 🥹

liked by yourinstagram, gemmastyles and 643,190 others

annetwist, grandma duties have officially started.❤️🍼👶🏼

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username, okay, this is actually adorable

username, they’re covering up his face?

username, they can do what they want 👍

username, Harry’s to famous for his kids faces to be blurred

username, Chester’s a new born, let them live there lives!

username, your smile 🥹🥹

username, do you think he looks like H?

username, we like to think the styles genes are strong.

username, having your parents look like Harry and (Y/N) means your bound to be cute

username, a grandma at the age of 55, your winning!

username, the way your looking at him 🫶😭

yourinstagram, the best grandma there is. ❤️

annetwist, making me tear up over here!

Harry Styles sat comfortably in his London home, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of his morning routine. Today, however, there was an added buzz in the air as he prepared to join a Zoom interview with two popular television personalities, Holly Willoughby and Alison Hammond.

As the virtual call connected, Harry found himself greeted by the beaming faces of Holly and Alison, who wasted no time in introducing him to their viewers.

"Good morning, everyone! We have a very special guest with us today. It's none other than the incredibly talented and stylish Harry Styles!" Holly exclaimed, her enthusiasm evident.

"Hello, Harry! How are you doing today?" Alison chimed in, her warm smile reaching through the screen.

Harry smiled back, feeling instantly at ease. "I'm doing great, thank you! It's lovely to be here with both of you."

The conversation flowed naturally as Holly and Alison delved into various topics, from Harry's music career to his personal life. Eventually, the subject of Harry's newborn baby came up, sparking the curiosity of both hosts.

"So, Harry," Holly began, leaning in with interest, "we've heard the wonderful news about your new addition to the family. How has it been adjusting to life with a newborn?"

Harry chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with joy. "Oh, it's been an absolute whirlwind, I must say. Sleepless nights and all, but it's also the most magical experience. I'm absolutely besotted."

Alison grinned, leaning closer to her screen. "And what about the name? We're dying to know! What did you and your wife decide to call your little one?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, adopting a playful expression. "Well, you see, my wife and I are both from Manchester. We wanted to pay homage to our roots, but we couldn't exactly name our son Manchester, now could we?"

Holly and Alison erupted into laughter, clearly enjoying Harry's wit.

"So," Harry continued, "we thought of shortening the name and getting rid of the man, hence the reason for Chester, it just felt right.”

Holly nodded, still smiling. "Absolutely! Chester Styles has a certain charm to it. Well, we wish you and your family all the love and happiness, Harry."

"Thank you so much," Harry replied warmly. "We're over the moon, and little Chester is already the light of our lives."

The virtual interview continued with Holly and Alison. They were eager to delve deeper into Harry Styles' life as a new father and couldn't resist asking about the speculation surrounding Chester's appearance.

"Harry, we must say, the world is abuzz with curiosity about your son Chester," Holly remarked, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. "Fans are dying to know, does he resemble you or your wife?"

Harry grinned, appreciating their enthusiasm. "Ah, the great mystery of Chester's looks! I'll let you in on a secret – everyone says he looks like me."

Alison chuckled playfully. "Well, Harry, I guess we'll just have to take your word for it. I'm sure he's a little heartbreaker in the making!"

Harry chuckled in agreement. "Oh, he certainly has that effect on people already, even without showing his face. He's got the charm, I can tell you that."

The conversation continued, with Harry sharing endearing anecdotes about his experiences as a new parent, the sleepless nights, and the overwhelming love he felt for his son. He spoke passionately about creating a nurturing and inclusive environment for Chester, instilling values of kindness and acceptance from a young age.

"I want Chester to grow up in a world where he feels safe to be himself," Harry emphasized. "It's essential to me that he knows he is loved unconditionally and supported in whatever he chooses to pursue. He may be just a tiny baby now, but I can already see his spirit shining through."

Holly and Alison nodded, genuinely moved by Harry's heartfelt words. "That's truly beautiful, Harry," Holly said softly. "We can only imagine the wonderful bond you share as a family."

During the continuation of the virtual interview, Holly and Alison decided to inquire about the birth of Harry Styles' son, delving deeper into the experiences and challenges surrounding that significant moment in his life. As they ventured into the topic, a heaviness settled over Harry, and his smile gradually faded, replaced by a veil of apprehension.

"Harry, we would like to hear about your wife's birth experience," Holly gently probed, her tone laced with empathy. "Could you share with us the details of what transpired?"

Harry's eyes shifted, his voice trembling slightly as he began to recount the distressing memories. "It was an incredibly arduous journey, to say the least. The birth was a grueling battle filled with unforeseen obstacles."

Alison leaned in closer, her concern palpable. "Is everything alright, Harry? You seem burdened by the weight of it all."

A somber nod escaped Harry as he mustered the strength to reveal the truth. "Well, truth be told, everything didn't go as planned. It was an excruciating two-day labor, and in the end, my wife had to undergo an emergency C-section due to life-threatening complications."

Holly's brows furrowed, and her voice softened, almost a whisper. "Could you elaborate on the complications, Harry? We're here to listen."

Harry's breath caught, the anguish present in his voice. "The complications were tumultuous, to put it mildly. There was placental abruption, a harrowing occurrence where the placenta detaches from the uterine wall prematurely, leading to severe bleeding and endangering both my wife and our unborn child."

Alison gasped softly, her eyes brimming with empathy. "That sounds incredibly distressing, Harry. How did you manage to navigate such a traumatic experience?"

A quiver in his voice, Harry pressed on, his words thick with emotion. "We were thrust into a whirlwind of chaos. The medical team scrambled to stabilize my wife's condition, performing an emergency cesarean section to save both her life and that of our precious child."

A pause, heavy with anguish, hung in the air as Harry gathered himself to continue. "But even after Chester's arrival, the complications persisted. He was whisked away to the neonatal intensive care unit, or NICU, due to his premature birth and the trauma he endured during delivery."

Holly and Alison exchanged glances, their expressions etched with sympathy and concern. "Harry, it must have been an agonizing ordeal. How did you and your wife find the strength to endure?"

Harry's voice quivered as he delved deeper into the painful memories. "We clung to hope, even in the darkest moments. The NICU became our second home, where we witnessed our fragile child hooked up to monitors, enduring myriad treatments, battling complications such as respiratory distress syndrome and jaundice."

The weight of the medical terms hung heavy in the conversation, reflecting the gravity of the situation. Harry's voice cracked as he continued, "Days stretched into endless nights as we watched our little one fight for his life, clinging to the tender threads of fragile existence."

Holly and Alison's eyes welled with tears, their hearts heavy with the weight of Harry's anguished story. They expressed their deepest admiration for Harry's resilience and the unwavering love he and his wife exhibited during this harrowing journey.

"Harry, if it's not too difficult, could you share more about the complications your wife faced during the birth our viewers at home are interested in knowing that there’s a bright side during these difficult times.” Holly asked gently, her voice filled with empathy.

Harry took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the floor as he prepared to reveal the gravity of the situation. "It was a devastating cascade of events. Due to the placental abruption and the subsequent blood loss, my wife's condition deteriorated rapidly. The medical team made the difficult decision to place her in a medically induced coma for four days."

A collective gasp escaped both Holly and Alison, their eyes widening in shock. "Four days in a coma?" Alison whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Harry nodded, his voice trembling with the weight of the memories. "Yes, she fought for her life. The doctors worked tirelessly to stabilize her, administering blood transfusions and conducting multiple procedures to control the bleeding."

Silence hung in the air as the hosts absorbed the gravity of the situation, their hearts heavy with empathy for Harry and his wife. Finally, Holly spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did you cope with such an overwhelming situation, Harry?"

A pained expression crossed Harry's face as he opened up about the darkest moments of his life. "It felt like an abyss of despair. I was torn between staying strong for my wife and grappling with my own fears. I leaned on our families and friends for support, seeking solace in their unwavering presence."

He continued, his voice filled with a mix of anguish and gratitude. "The medical team provided exceptional care, explaining each step of the process and guiding us through the darkest nights. They became our pillars of strength, assuring us that we were not alone."

Harry's voice wavered as he recounted the arduous journey. "When my wife finally emerged from the coma, she had to confront the physical and emotional toll it had taken. The road to recovery was long and challenging, but we held onto the glimmer of hope that Chester's arrival had brought us."

Holly and Alison listened intently, their hearts aching for the pain Harry and his wife endured. They commended Harry's resilience and the strength that emanated from their shared experience.

As the virtual interview continued, delving into the deeply personal experiences of Harry Styles and his family, a tender moment unfolded. Harry's eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and adoration as he contemplated bringing his son, Chester, into the interview. He felt a warmth in his heart, a desire to share this precious part of his life, even while maintaining their privacy.

With a warm smile, Harry excused himself briefly, leaving the frame of the camera. Moments later, he reappeared, cradling Chester in his arms. The room seemed to light up with an invisible glow as he carefully held his son, ensuring his tiny face remained hidden from view.

Holly and Alison couldn't contain their delight as they caught a glimpse of the precious bundle in Harry's arms. "Oh, Harry, he's absolutely adorable!" Holly exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine affection.

Alison nodded enthusiastically, her eyes brimming with warmth. "He's a true heart-stealer, isn't he? We can see the love radiating from you, Harry."

A soft chuckle escaped Harry as he gently rocked Chester, careful to shield his face. "He's my little ray of sunshine, that's for sure. Though we prefer to keep his privacy protected, I couldn't resist bringing him along to share in this special moment."

The hosts cooed and awwed, completely captivated by the enchanting scene before them. The interview took on a lighter, more whimsical tone as Harry continued to speak, his voice infused with tenderness.

"You know, Chester has brought so much joy into our lives," Harry shared, a touch of awe in his voice. "Every day, I'm amazed by his little quirks and the way he captures everyone's hearts without even showing his face. He has this incredible way of making me smile, even in the toughest moments."

Holly's eyes shimmered with emotion as she commented, "It's evident how deeply you cherish him, Harry. Your love for him is palpable, even without revealing his sweet face to the world."

With a soft laugh, Harry nodded. "Absolutely. We want to give him the freedom to grow up away from the spotlight, to carve out his own path. But I couldn't resist sharing this glimpse of him with you all. He's my biggest source of inspiration and happiness."

As the interview drew to a close, Harry's arms instinctively tightened around Chester, an unspoken bond between father and son. He thanked Holly and Alison for their understanding and support, grateful for the opportunity to share this special moment.

With a final wave and a tender smile, Harry bid farewell, taking Chester with him as they embarked on the next chapter of their day. The love and warmth they shared lingered in the air, leaving behind a lasting impression of pure joy and adoration.

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v i e w a l l c o m m e n t s

username, okay this was way sadder then I thought it would be

(371 likes)

username, hearing Harry sound so vulnerable is hearting my heart in so many ways

(128 likes)

username, on a positive note the reason they named Chester that was actually so cute

(649 likes)

username, im so glad that our (y/n) is alright

(237 likes)

username, he looked so emotional when he was speaking about the birth 🥹

(419 likes)

username, when he brought Chester into the interview my heart combusted!

(1.2k likes)

username, I know it’s the hosts job to ask these questions but the look on his face when he had to answer absolutely breaks me😭

(631 likes)

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liked by annetwist, niallhoran and 39 others

yourinstagram, the styles twins <3

tagged, harrystyles

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annetwist, my babies ❤️❤️

yourinstagram, they really are adorable!

taylorswift, his fathers twin literally

yourinstagram, you wouldn’t think I carried him for nine months 😭😭

louist91, woah my mans got a strong game

yourinstagram, he really has!

harrystyles, hey!

pillowpersonpp, chester is the cutest little bubba I’ve ever seen!!

mitchrowland, what about our son?

pillowpersonpp, with an exception of course 🫶

harrystyles, the styles genes are strong! 💪

yourinstagram, they really are. 🥹

niallhoran, I can’t believe I’ve not met him yet, I’m getting serious fomo over here guys!

yourinstagram, we’ll have to arrange something!!

harrystyles, don’t you dare corrupt my kid, Irish!

liked by yourinstagram, liampayne and 9,319,641 others

harrystyles, Saccharine Lullabies. September 5th.

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username, oh yeah baby!

username, this is giving album of the year vibes and it’s not even been released yet!

username, a new album?

username, it feels like only yesterday Harry’s House was released

username, sobbing

username, is that supposed to be (Y/N) and Chester on the front?

yourinstagram, ❤️❤️

(liked by harrystyles)

username, wtf?

username, this album is going to be beautiful!

annetwist, so excited for you H!

(liked by harrystyles)

username, YEAH BABY YEAH BABY YEAH BABY

username, lullabies?! omg an album dedicated to Chester!

username, this album is going to change lives I can just tell!

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━━━━━━━━┓ 💫 ┏━━━━━━━━

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

 #6: The Gone (1.01)

gif cred: @arabellas

After the meeting with Okafor, Pearl walks alongside Rick and says she’ll end him if he refers to them as 'we' again. And as their conversation continued, with some mistrust between them, this was a scene that let Lesley-Ann Brandt's talent shine. 👏🏽 Later, Pearl also drops some pivotal information when Rick learns that the secrets he's been trying to keep about himself and his family aren't so secret to Okafor😬...

So as they walk, Pearl stops and explains how she got here, giving some insight into her backstory and character. Then she says she knows why Rick’s done all the intense things he’s done like trying to escape and cutting off his hand. She says it’s the same reason she did what she did, declaring “There’s someone you love out there.” And ding ding ding. She’s right on the money. 👌🏽

I like how characters, without even knowing about Richonne, can tell that Rick’s in love - like Pearl saying there’s someone he loves in this moment and Negan in the season 7 finale telling Rick, "You just lost somebody important to you."

gif cred: @riickgrimes

When Pearl brings up the someone that Rick loves, Rick’s response is interesting as he looks away like he's thinking 'I don’t want to talk about this with anyone but the portraitist.'

Pearl says she’s accepted that she won’t ever see her person again because she knows her person doesn’t want her to die. It’s interesting because Michonne of course feels the same about not wanting Rick to do anything here that could lead him to die.

But I think Rick also knows the way Michonne believes they have to keep fighting the fight no matter the numbers or odds. So just as Pearl stopped trying to escape cuz her person would want that, Rick has to keep trying to fight and break free because Michonne would want that for him. 

As the convo continues, Pearl says this is all she has left and the life she had before is all gone. Which RIP to your life before, Pearl, but Rick’s family is still out there so y’all are not the same. But Pearl thinks they are the same as she tells Rick, “This is all you have left too.”

gif cred: @msanonships

Then Pearl seems to get a little too personal when saying, “The person you are trying to get back to…” because Rick cuts her off quick and is playing no games in tone nor facial expression when he looks at Pearl and says “Hey, she’s not gone.”

I love that he says this with so much conviction, refusing to entertain anything else cuz they’re the ones who live.

gif cred: @msanonships

Rick believes in Michonne so much. He knows she’s a true survivor and that she’s still out there. Both Rick and Michonne can feel each other out there. 

Then, more vulnerably but still with conviction Rick says, “They’re not gone.” It’s vulnerable because it’s letting Pearl know he’s missing his love and someone else too - his daughter. 🥺

gif cred: @nat111love

Then I love the writing and Lesley's delivery of Pearl saying “She isn’t. They aren’t. We are.” as Rick looks like he’s more freshly taking in that perspective.

It reminds me of Rick’s final TWD ep when Sasha tells him his family isn’t lost after he says he needs to find them. In some ways, his family is the one who needs to find him now cuz he’s the one who's gone. But I don’t think Rick considered a scenario where they’d be looking for him like he’s looking to get back to them. 

Rick had found solace in telling himself his family is still out there and they’re not gone but in this moment he’s hit with the fact that to his family he is gone. His family can’t say with as much conviction ‘he’s not gone’ cuz they genuinely don’t know. And that’s gotta be painful for Rick to have to think about this from the lens that he’s likely just gone to them.

gif cred: @nat111love

Even tho fortunately he’ll learn that his wife, daughter, and even the son he didn’t know he had were still believing he wasn’t gone forever. And while he was gone for years, he was never forgotten by them.

Also, the word 'gone' is interesting because it can also be like a figurative 'gone.' In losing every connection that made him who he is, old Rick is gone in a sense.

And so to stop being gone to his family, Rick hatches a plan for escape number 5, and this time he wants to make the CRM think he’s gone…onto glory. 

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Rick jogs and tells Michonne more about the CRM alliance. He says, “The world is so much bigger than we knew, Michonne. So much better and so much worse.” And I love that he’s still finding ways to go through this expanding world with her.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Also, this is the first time we get to hear Rick say her name within these letters, and Rick saying ‘Michonne’ is always music to my ears. 🥰

gif cred: @nerd4music

As his world expands, it's interesting because he’s acknowledging that the world is bigger, better, and worse and yet it still mostly feels like a confined and suffocating place for him because he’s not with her.

gif cred: @nerd4music

Beale joins Rick on the bench and Rick quickly salutes him, playing the part of a fully conformed soldier. Beale reveals Okafor bombed 4,000 marines at Lincoln Field and how he switched sides. Rick says he did too in a way. Beale basically says that they probably would have just killed Rick but Okafor made a compelling argument on his behalf.

In their convo, Beale looks into Rick's eyes and asks if Okafor is up to something and he and Rick say no at the same time. Rick then repeats no. Beale also asks how Rick survived and he says sacrifice. Rick on a larger scale and a more literal scale really did survive by sacrifice. When he sacrificed himself on that bridge it led him to wash ashore near Jadis and get the medical care he needed, so sacrifice really is why he's alive.

Beale acknowledges how Rick tried to escape four times and asks if he’s here now because he wants to kill or die or try to escape again. I like Rick looking at Beale and saying “Look in my eyes, sir. You tell me.”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Beale looks in his eyes and seems satisfied for the moment so he says he’s just gonna sit here and enjoy the view with Rick. And Rick sorta looks bummed because his bench time is where he gets to just have some alone time and more than likely daydream about Michonne in pretty outfits. 😋

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Rick’s letter continues and he tells Michonne how everything was about secrets in this place but all he cared about was holding onto his secrets. Those secrets entailing where he’s from and who he’s lost. And again I like how Rick is telling Michonne all the CRM’s secrets. 😊

So as Rick maps out his fifth escape plan looking fine as can be in different black fits - and yes I’m going to make note of that often 😋 - we see him putting the plan together interspersed with playing poker with Pearl and winning. He’s so determined and I love to see it. 

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Then Rick pays a visit to Esteban at an idyllic park. Seeing the park makes me think this is part of why one of Rick’s alternate universes with Michonne is them falling in love at a park. I also noticed there’s people with signs that say ‘CRM transparency now’ planting the seed that people are already itching to see a change in the CRM.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Rick and Esteban hug and have a friendly moment before sitting down so that Rick can ask for his insider info to help with his escape. Rick says he needs Esteban to tell him where a certain tunnel leads and Esteban is hesitant but Rick earnestly says “I have to keep trying. I’m getting there. I’m getting home.” And the way he says that just hits my heart. He’s still so adamant to not give up on being back with his family.

And then my heart breaks to hear Rick say “Or I’m dying. That’s it.” For Rick, there’s no option to live without them so he either breaks free or literally dies trying. If he can't gain his family back he's willing to lose his life. 😢

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Esteban says he can’t tell him anything but still finds a way to tell Rick everything he needs to know by telling him what he specifically can’t tell him and I really love seeing Rick’s small smile when he realizes Esteban is helping him. There’s a moment where he has this tiny little smile that reminds me so much of RJ. It’s the cutest.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Like Rick Grimes Jr. really is Rick's mini-me. 😭

Esteban says another thing he’d tell Rick is that he gets why he’s doing what he’s doing as he seemingly looks back at the girl he’s met within the Civic Republic. Esteban gets that when you find someone you love, you can’t just let them go.

I really appreciate Esteban telling Rick he doesn’t have to die and then adamantly urging him not to die. And Rick smiles again feeling like he’s now closer than ever to getting home. It was nice to see Rick have a friend and get a win. 

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

So then Rick continues finalizing his plan and that moment when he puts on all his gear and dog tags in the mirror…fine all the time, what can I say. ❤️‍🔥

Rick lays out the plan to Michonne of how he aimed to fake his death with a walker body. He says, “There’s no escape for the living. So I had to make sure they thought I was dead.” 

Then during an outing with the CRM, Rick comes so close to (hotly) escaping but a walker approaches and he has to take multiple out before seeing a little screaming girl. Rick is ticked that this has all put a wrench in his plan, but he knows he has to save the little girl.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

So he runs to take out the walkers, even tho I notice he does have a small moment of debating whether to just continue with his plan. But of course, he’s a good man so he helps the girl. I did observe he’s not as parental as he normally is with little kids like Judith, Sophia, etc., and it just reminds me he’s had to be so far removed from that dad side of himself. 

When he struggles to take down a walker, Pearl takes care of the rest and says she saw the whole thing. The little girl says Rick killed her mommy and Pearl assures that Rick is a good man and they’re from a good place. Pearl says they’re all going to go back but you can just see in Rick’s watery eyes how much he is itching to follow through with his escape plan. He’s so close.

gif cred: @rcsitastark

He reminds Pearl that she said to ask for help and so now he’s asking for her help in letting him just slip away and get out of here. But Pearl firmly says “I am helping you. He would have found you and whoever you’re running to. He knows about you Grimes.”

I like the suspense in the way that’s worded as Rick is hit with the gut punch that while he thought he’d been holding onto his secrets, Okafor actually knows about the most important people to him.

gif cred: @clonecaptains

Rick's expression makes it clear this is news he feels he has to deal with urgently. Pearl says come on and Rick grabs his helmet with a scowl as he knows he can’t leave just yet because he needs to know exactly what Okafor knows. He also needs Okafor to know exactly who he’s dealing with.

And y’all, this next excellently acted moment is where Okafor more officially gets to meet the famous Rick Grimes - the man, the myth, the legend, and most of all the fiercely protective husband and father. 😌👌🏽

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 25: A House Is Not A Home (And A Dinner Is Not A Date)

Prompt: "It consumes me"

For the anon who sent this: Can you write a fic where an IT billionaire falls in love with Scully and pursues her, while Mulder gets very jealous - oh, and they're already dating, but still in secret. Rating: T, wc: 1,713

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

Over the past few years, he’s learned many things in therapy. One thing is to be honest with his emotions and not bottle them up and send them out into the world as a joke.

Right now, it proves to be difficult. How is he supposed to stay serious and true to his emotions when this 30-something guy with the whitest teeth Mulder has ever seen, is hitting on Scully?

“This was one of my prototypes,” the young man explains. Mulder knows he has a name. It’s Chad or something similar. Mulder doubts that Chad-or-whatever has caught his name, seeing how he only has eyes for Scully.

“Staying in this house was an experience.” Mulder glances over at Scully. Why is she indulging Chad-or-whatever? She’s smiling at the younger man. Oh. Oh, no. This man-child could be their son. Well, not quiet. Almost.

He’s seen Scully flirt plenty of times over the last 25 years – sometimes successfully and sometimes less so. Hell, he’s helped her out once. Too bad that the guy turned out to be a vampire. A fact Scully does not like to be reminded of.

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” Chad-or-whatever explains. “Let me make it up to you. I have another unit. Bigger, better, brighter. It’s yours. Rent-free for the rest of the year, of course.”

“It’s fine, Mr.-”

“Chad. Please call me Chad.” His grin is so blinding that Mulder has to look away.

“It’s fine, Chad. I do have a place to stay.” He wants to shove it in Chad’s face that Scully is staying with him. In their house. They’re sharing a bed. Something this guy can only dream about. The way he’s looking at Scully, he’s doing exactly that right this second.

“Then you must let me take you to dinner,” Chad insists, taking Scully’s hands into his. Mulder searches Scully’s face for discomfort, but can’t find any. He’s expecting her to politely decline any moment now. He’s waiting, and waiting, and waiting. It takes her a good ten seconds to answer – one second longer and Mulder would have done it for her.

“I’d like that, Chad.”

“You won’t regret it,” the younger man says, and Mulder stares at him with narrow eyes. “I’ll text you later. I have your number.” How much can a grown man grin? Mulder balls his fists, knowing he can neither say nor do anything. It’s not his place.

“Looking forward to it,” Scully says much to Mulder’s horror and Chad winks at her before he jogs off.

“Looking forward to it?” Mulder repeats, leaning his face close to hers, wondering what he’s missed.

“He’s sweet.”

“Sweet.”

“Are you parroting everything I say now? Yes, he’s sweet. It’s just dinner, Mulder. He’s sorry my house burned down.”

“Um, no, Scully. It’s not just dinner. That guy was hitting on you.”

“I could be his mother, Mulder. He wasn’t hitting on me.” But he sees doubt creep into her expression. “Was he?” Mulder nods at her. They went through this last year with Tad. Except back then, she was aware of what Tad was doing. And back then, she hadn’t been entirely uninterested. She admitted as much to him one night, not too long ago.

It was right after her house blew up and she moved back into their home. She said that she couldn’t in all honesty start being with Mulder again if she wasn’t honest. So she confessed about Tad. Mulder, on the other hand, had nothing to confess. No other women whatsoever. He had tried to hit the apps once and given up. It was Scully or nothing for him.

“It’s just dinner,” she says, shaking her head. “Mulder, he’s rich. He made a fortune with these smart homes. He just wants to make sure I won’t badmouth them.”

“So you’re going on a date with him?”

“It’s dinner,” she reminds him.

“Dinner, date, whatever. You’re going.”

“Yes, I’m going. You're not jealous, are you?"

"Me?" he asks in mock surprise, pointing at his chest. "Why would I be jealous if it's just dinner?"

But of course, he's lying.

*

She can’t believe Mulder was right. She and Chad are at an upscale restaurant where a meal costs as much as her monthly rent. He picked her up in a limo and brought her roses. That should have been her first clue. Mulder had looked miserable standing on the porch, watching her leave. As though she wasn’t planning on returning. Now she understands why.

“Dana, I cannot hold it in any longer.” In the dim light, his teeth look comically white, and his eyes are like molten chocolate pools. There are no blemishes on his skin and it hits her how impossibly young he still is. She knows a little bit about him; most importantly, she knows that he’s rich. Really, really rich. A billionaire, if the magazine she read is to be believed. Judging by his clothes, and his attitude, she has no reason to doubt it.

“Hide what?” Her whisper is not deliberate. The restaurant is quiet; a perfect atmosphere for two young lovers making their first moves.

“My feelings for you,” Chad says, smiling. “My love for you. It consumes me.”

“Chad, you don’t even know me.”

“You’re mistaken, Dana. I do know you. The moment I met you, I knew.” His smile is disarming. He isn’t a Philip Padgett, or a Donny Pfaster. He’s just a young, lonely man who’s mistaking his feelings for something they aren’t.

“Chad-”

“You said you’re single.” A mishap of her own making. She and Mulder have been back together for all of three months and she isn’t ready to let anyone else know. She knows that Mulder would like to scream it from the rooftops. He’s been the perfect gentleman, keeping his distance – as much as he can – and pretending to only be her work partner. It has worked so well that she’s ended up on a date with a man almost half her age.

She still can’t believe Mulder was right.

“I’m not… exactly single. It’s just very new and we’re keeping a low profile.” She can see the disappointment on Chad’s face, making him look even younger—almost like a little boy. His hand slips from hers, and he starts fiddling with his napkin instead.

“I should have known,” he says. “A woman like you. It was too good to be true.”

“Chad, there’s someone out there for you.”

“I thought it was you.”

He stares down at his plate and out of the corner of her eye, Scully spots a waitress, watching them closely. The expression on the other woman’s face is oddly familiar to her. Longing. Scully isn’t the first woman Chad has brought here and obviously, none of them have worked out. Maybe, Scully thinks, observing the waitress, he’s looking in all the wrong places.

“Excuse me a moment,” she says to Chad and he nods, not looking up.

“The restroom is this way,” the young waitress informs her when Scully walks toward her.

“I know. That’s not – you probably saw all that, right?”

“I’m not supposed to see things here, Ma’am.”

“I see the way you look at him,” Scully says softly. “I once looked at a man the very same way and I will go home to him now. Why don’t you keep him company?”

“I’m not supposed to… I couldn’t…”

“Sometimes we can bend the rules,” Scully says to her and the younger woman gives her a shy smile. She nods and takes a deep breath before she walks over to the table. Scully watches for a moment and is convinced that she sees a spark in Chad’s eyes. Before the man can spot and miss her, she disappears.

*

Imagining Scully on a date with another man while they were broken up is one thing. Waiting for her to return from a date while they’re living in the same house is torture. It’s shortly before 9 p.m. when he hears the tell-tale sound of the key in the door. His heart is doing somersaults. Returning home early has to be a good sign, right?

“Hey you,” Scully says, throwing her purse into a corner before she plops down next to him on the couch. She smells like roses and vanilla. A primitive part of him is trying to detect a whiff of competition. There is none.

“Hey.” He gives himself 15 seconds. If she doesn’t start talking until then, he’ll ask.

“You’re not going to ask how it was?” She turns to him. She’s gone for minimal make-up today and he spots her freckles peeping through. That alone makes him smile.

“Didn’t want to pressure you. How was it?”

“You were right.”

“Oh, you know what gets me going, Scully. How was I right?”

“Chad. He was hitting on me. He was interested in more than just dinner.”

“And?” He trusts Scully implicitly. There’s no doubt in his mind that she loves him. She wouldn’t have come back if she didn’t. That doesn’t mean he trusts Chad.

“I told him that I’m not available.”

“So Chad’s the first to know about us? Did not see that coming.”

“He said he loves me,” Scully says, shaking her head in disbelief. “He’s only just met me.”

“Hmm, I get it,” Mulder says, nuzzling her neck. He’s not staking his territory, but maybe he is. Just a little bit. “I was infatuated with you right from the start.”

“You were not.”

“Oh, but I was.”

“That’s funny,” she says, kissing him. “Cause I had a crush on you, too.”

“What about now? Do you still have a crush?” Another kiss, this time longer and with more tongue.

“More than a crush,” she murmurs into his mouth, and together they make their way upstairs. In the morning, Mulder will admit that he was jealous. Just a little bit. And Scully will raise her eyebrow, but smile and remind him that he has nothing to worry about. Ever.

That’s confirmed when a month later they get an invitation to Chad’s wedding.

“That guy moves fast,” Mulder says. “I wonder who she is.”

“Oh, I know who she is,” Scully says, grinning triumphantly, recognizing the waitress she saw in the restaurant that night.

[anakiinhighwalker]

How they react when you’re injured please? Thank you!

evil laughter. i woll make a part 2 if asked….

— Obi Wan Kenobi

Poor Obi Wan. First it’s Anakin getting blasted and now it’s you in the medical bay getting patched up. He can’t help it at this point; he immediately assumes the worst. It’s second nature for him to worry about the people he cares about at this point. I don’t think there’s a day where Obi Wan doesn’t worry about something, which is both sad and kinda impressive for the old man (affectionately).

He has a bad habit of holding his breath before he sees you. It just adds to his feeling of being suffocated of hearing you get hurt. Is it melodramatic? A bit. But it just makes his love for you all that blatantly obvious; he literally can’t breathe if you’re not okay

Honestly, I don’t think it depends on the severity of the wound—Obi Wan will worry. He’s seen someone as powerful as his master get killed by a simple stab (although it was with a lightsaber). Obi Wan knows that any wound, regardless of how small or miniscule it can appear, can bring unseen consequences with it. Better safe than sorry is his motto, for anything really.

Constant testing, constant checking. I swear by the time Obi Wan’s done inspecting you himself, he’ll have a PhD.

It’s tough for Obi Wan to conceal his worry. He attempts to mask his worry with frustration towards the situation at hand but it can only convince so many people. You don’t know why, but Obi Wan always lets his professional Jedi mask slip when you’re any type of injured. He can’t ever seem not worried over you and there’s been too many close calls where Yoda raises an eyebrow at Obi Wan’s tenderness towards you.

He vents to Yoda that you shouldn’t be getting hurt and that it’s not fair. But he does it in his own, poised manner of venting. He’s very subtle when he’s venting because he doesn’t like to yell nor complain outright; It’s a quiet, seething type. Maybe there’s some untapped anger deep inside of him sitting about, piling up at the very fact someone had the opening to hurt you.

“This is ridiculous. How can the fleet expect to protect the capital if they can’t even protect them? They’re in the infirmary now and it’s because I was too distracted with droids.”

He’s just feeling too many things. Any anger he feels is stemming directly from the fact he wants to so desperately protect you from everything and anything bad. Don’t hold it against him if he’s moody or in a bad mood. Obi Wan loves you deeply—more than a man of his status should—so the aspect of harm coming to you unsettles him to a disturbing amount. That and mixed with his unresolved emotions towards his master’s death? The way the war has shaped and molded him? :(

Please please please reassure General Kenobi. He needs you to straighten him out so he can work properly.

— Anakin Skywalker (Deftones Liker)

It’s like Anakin adapted Obi Wan’s worrying but then added his little Ani twist to it and now it’s Anakin worrying AND being livid. This man has destroyed and mauled droids for blasting too close to you and I’m pretty sure if he could, he would’ve beat the shit out of the senator who messed with you. I don’t think Anakin has a chill button when it comes to you.

He’s too worried, in fact. He can become overbearing very quickly if you don’t check him. I’m talking Obi Wan’s checks but combine that with constant questioning and no chill at all. Anakin will very quickly overwhelm both the nurses and you with his frequent checking. So much so that you’re not sure if you’re secret relationship will be so secret afterwards (not that it was hidden that much in the first place tbh).

It’s even worse if Anakin can find the person or thing that hurt you. Whoever let Anakin roam free with his lightsaber and no therapy is the TRUE menace to society. Because the DAMAGE he will do if he’s unrestraint, oooh Lordy. I’m not even sure if I can say Anakin won’t kill a man for hurting you. You’re way too precious to him to care about someone else’s well-being, and especially if that person hurt you? Bye. They’re goners.

Obi Wan doesn’t panic, he silently worries. Anakin does panics and probably gets overwhelmed from how much he panics. He makes Ahsoka and Rex worry with him unknowingly with how he paces about. He, like his master, also has a habit of constantly checking your wounds and injuries to reassure himself that it’s not that grave. I honestly think Anakin puts a fairly decent amount of guilt on himself since he feels like he couldn’t protect you despite being such a highly regarded Jedi.

Would cry a little in all honesty. Anakins very emotional and he needs you to tell him to relax and to calm down because I really think Anakin can’t do that himself. He puts so much time, effort and love into your relationship that if you were to leave in any way, I don’t think it’s too far off to say Anakin would be shattered.

Angry venting to Obi Wan and Rex. If he doesn’t vent, he paces and overthinks and scowls. Honestly, at this stage is when Anakin could be really be tempted by the dark side if he’s not reassured your recovery. I think ROTS speaks for itself lol.

Once you’re safe and healthy, the way this man is so relieved and he always reminds you how much he loves you.

— Ahsoka Tano

Old trauma flares up. Ahsoka saw so much as a teenager during the Clone Wars and she’s still seen so much now as a leader for the Rebellion. The fact you’re harmed? What’s she suppose to do? Like her master, Ahsoka feels self pity and guilt at the fact she could not stop blaster fire from hurting you.

Ahsoka was never a crybaby when someone got hurt or died, she only has a faded memory of crying a little when Obi Wan was fatally ‘shot’ by a bounty hunter she doesn’t even remember the name of. So she won’t cry when she hears of your injury. But the way any Force sensitive person could feel her sorrow. I honestly believe Ahsoka’s guilt and deep melancholy would have a domino effect on people.

She’s learned to keep her cool and to be refined like a Jedi in combat because if she’s not, she could end up like him. Ahsoka, both with time and with becoming a leader, has learned to remain calm and quiet during tough times. Her quietness is both for good and bad. Good for others, who assume their leader is not afraid and unmoving at the Empire’s threat. But bad for herself—she becomes recluse and guards even the most deplorable, horrid feelings with mental guards.

Sort of pushes you to the back of her mind. She has to focus on the success of the Rebellion and how to undo everything the Empire has done; Ahsoka doesn’t have time to grieve or feel sorry for herself. She has to step up as the leading command of the biggest revolt against the Empire.

Silent over-thinker who really needs a break. She mimics Anakin’s nervous habits without even thinking. Pacing in her room, overthinking, scowling, it’s so ironic how she can be so similar to Anakin when she doesn’t paint herself as a wise, strong and sort of ethereal leader.

When you’re okay, Ahsoka asks everyone to leave you to be. And she finally lets her guard down and hugs you tight, so afraid she would have lost you to whatever battle you were fighting. She was so ready for the pain of the loss that it always gives her a happy surprise you’re always bouncing back better. It’s kinda sad to say, but Ahsoka has been surrounded by loss her entire life so the possibility of you leaving isn’t as frightening as it should be. She doesn’t know if thats healthy.

You kiss her cheek and she stops dissociating. You clear her blurry, rushed thoughts and soothe her sorrows and traumas. :)

— Luke Skywalker

This boy is human disaster Anakin Skywalker’s son. He’s practically BESTIES with worrying and overthinking! He doesn’t mean to worry, since Luke believes the Jedi way is one with mental stability and without struggle of overbearing emotions. But tuen again, Luke’s also a Skywalker. He attempts to appear this graceful Jedi who won’t freak out but we all know Luke is worrying his bowl cut off thinking about you.

I dont know if it’s a Skywalker family thing, but Luke really worries himself horribly thinking about the fact you might, even for a split second, die. That grave idea of death haunts him even if it doesn’t show behind his cool attitude and collected persona. He just deeply cares about you; he adores you beyond measure so the lingering thought in the back of his head of your demise is something that just—frightens the poor guy.

Although worried, he will put heavy amounts of trust and huge amounts of pressure (unknowingly) onto the doctors and medics doing everything they can to ensure you don’t pay an early visit to Luke’s hot dad. Like he’ll put a gloved hand onto the medic’s shoulder, tighten his grip a bit and go, “They’ll be okay, right? I don’t have to worry, right?” with his imposing stance and intense stare. I swear Luke sometimes scares people without meaning to.

Fighting himself a little bit. One side is like, ‘your feelings are valid, Luke. You have every right to be concerned over them—what if they pass like aunt and uncle?’ but the other side is like ‘No Luke, you need to be the Jedi that your dad and that Ben Kenobi wanted you to be.’ so often Luke is between the rift of wanting to feel as selfishly as a human feels but also feeling as selflessly as a Jedi would. What an unfair world, unfair circumstances too. Neither of you deserve this outcome.

He loves visiting you anytime he can, he loves having Han bug you to check up on you even if Han does tease you a little because your leg is broken. (Thank Luke for getting you stuck with Han Solo for the next few days. Fyi, Han is not the greatest bedside nurse. He’s probably the worst bedside nurse. He won’t even put on the hot nurse skirt, either!)

Not much else. If you get better, Luke recovers from his limbo of constant infighting in that noggin of his. If you don’t, well, we don’t have to go down the rabbithole that is Luke’s easy susceptibility into long periods of depression. Stares HARD at older Luke.

When you get back and moving, it’s just a relief for him. :)

— Padme Amidala

Eerily calm, like very eerily calm. I don’t know how she can stand to be so calm but it’s honestly very just Padme for her to not outright show so much explosive emotions; that’s not how she was raised, afterall. Even in her most dire moments, Padme can cry yes but I don’t feel as though she’s the type to have earth shattering outbursts although she does experience. She’s just never displayed them.

It eats at her though, no matter where she is. There she could be listening to some senator go on and on about their trade routes and how the Separatist scum have crested rifts in business and all Padme can think about is you. Just you. Your well-being and recovery is the only thing so very valuable to her in those moments.

She visits often and her aura of calm and poised position comforts you. At least one of you has the ability to remain so level-headed even during such difficult times. Her lessons and etiquettes in manners really kick in, her back sat straight and her gentle hand on yours everything but out of place. Padme is so gentle and softspoken with you that it shocks you she can be such, well, a princess even when shit hits the fan. She really is ready to be a professional senator, isn’t she?

Will argue with nurses and doctors to see you. I don’t care, that woman is doing everything in her power to constantly check up on you. Even if it’s getting Anakin to get up from his couch to check on you or getting 3po go make the journey into the medbay. You’ll either grow exasperated with her persistence to check up on you or you’ll find it incredibly attractive.

Her handmaidens make sure you’re okay too after you’re discharged from the hospital. Sabé stays with you throughout your whole recovery when Padme can’t be with you. And when she is with you, I dont think I can explain how caring she will be. How simply and utterly devoted Padme will become to taking care of you—it will probably make others jealous that such a beautiful woman loves you so much.

Chats with senator Organa about you. Discussing your situation and Organa being the amazing person he is, comforting Padme’s each and every worry. He also just kinda likes the gossip Padme tells him. Not to mention, you and Padme are cute together lol he loves to see y’all thrive.

Kisses. So many kisses. She sneaks in cheek and direct kisses whenever she can; Sneaky kisses, gentle kisses, adoring kisses and apologetic kisses. Padme will do all she can to see you smile, because your smile is the most precious thing to her.

— Mundi

idk but he’ll prolly hit the california girls dance on u lol for getting hurt

ditches u for one of his other wives (is that still canon???)

[revlischarm]

Hydrodynamic AU

uhhh hi so. This has been cooking in my brain for a few months now (6???) and basically it’s a ROTTMNT Separated AU with Donnie as the focus but like, y’know. It’s all of them. I call it Hydrodynamic AU cause a lot of it comes from Donnie being more…water-based I suppose?? Either way. Yeah.

The story (if I ever find the willpower to draw it up) would revolve around Donnie going out and finding their siblings in the various locations; not to try and turn them towards the side of light or whatever. Donnie just wants to hang out. The universe has other plans, however.

More on each character under the cut!!! And lmk if any of you are interested in this!

Donatello Hamato

•Raised by Splinter

•They/them pronouns (Non-binary!!)

•Goes by the usual canon nicknames, but mainly uses “Dee”

•This Dee’s whole thing is being extremely water-based

•Donnie actually knows Repo Mantis before he got mutated! They started sneaking into his junkyard as a kid and got caught and they actually bonded

•When Don got older, they started helping Repo out with repossessing work; the two are even closer after Repo mutated!

•Don usually doesn’t wear their battleshell in this AU! It gets in the way of swimming stuff, so they prefer to be without it most of the time

•All of their stuff is painstakingly designed to the waterproof

•The whole lair has a ton of water slides in it, it’s super fun

•AUTISTIC!!!

•Don is extremely bad at socializing and doesn’t know how to mask (nor do they care for it). Can’t identify social cues well.

•Still friends with April; Don also hangs out with the Purple Dragons regularly (they give them ✨validation✨)

•Athletic only in how they’re an avid swimmer

•Really likes Lou Jitsu movies, and likes hearing their father talk about the films

•Splinter helps them train when they ask, thought Donnie also trains on their own with just. Copious amounts of research and looking up techniques

•Splinter is also extremely overprotective of D due to both their soft shell and the fact that he lost D’s siblings previously.

•More open to active destruction than canon Don?? At least in the way that’s like. More disregarding the well-being of others sometimes. Basically this Donnie doesn’t have their brothers to stop them from doing stuff. Violence and loose morals ensue.

•Builds Shelldon earlier on in life (was lonely and wanted company)

•Don has thoroughly explored the city’s sewers and set up tons of markers so they wouldn’t get lost; they’ve practically memorized the layout underground by now. Don has also installed a filtration system in the sewers to help take care of pollution because they don’t like how icky the waters can get

•Uses more turtle noises than actual words at times

•Fights with tech bō staff, but also knows the basics of other weapons; has the second most proficiency in daggers/knives.

•Doesn’t know anything about mysticism until meeting Mars and Draxum

•Technically, Donnie meets Mars first, then Leo, then Rento. However, we later find out that Don has met one of their siblings beforehand and knew of their existence. But that’s for later.

Marciano Draxum

•Raised by Draxum

•He/they pronouns

•Goes by Mars most commonly, but other nicknames include Marc, Marcie, Mar-Mar, Marky, Marce, and Marcus

•Draxum is actually a good parent okay

•Instead of Doctor Feelings and Doctor Delicate Touch, we get Sir Feelings and Sir Delicate Touch (they’re used as ranks, it’s some class thing idk. It’s ranked below Baron is all I know)

•Feral

•At a certain age Draxum started letting them out more (with supervision) and Mars got super friendly with all the yōkai he came across!! Due to this, Draxum has a much stronger active relationship with the Hidden City yōkai community.

•Mars uses their free time to create art around the Hidden City

•Has never seen the surface; wonders what the sky looks like

•Extremely strong mystic powers that were discovered early on

•Mars knows like, everyone in the city, and by the time they’re older are allowed to go about it from the lab as he pleases.

•Has a secret fascination with humans and their stuff that he keeps from his dad

•Draxum mellows out a tad raising Mars, being fatherly and all that. Still wants to take down humanity, he just wouldn’t do it if it meant endangering his child.

•Mars is an extremely adept fighter, having trained with Draxum since they were able to.

•Secret love for Lou Jitsu movies that he found one day in the yōkai markets

•He and Leo have met before and they have a very intense rivalry. Those two. Do not like one another.

•The reason behind the name “Marciano” is that I doubted Draxum would name his kid after some human artist. “Marciano” has French, Italian, and Latin origins, though I was mainly going for Latin when I chose it. It means little warrior! The name also has a lot of relation to the Roman god of war, Mars, which also happens to be the main nickname I picked! So it fits.

•Doesn’t like to kill; would rather thoroughly incapacitate a person through extreme measures instead.

•Terrible swimmer

•Draxum’s whole place is a lot more…nice looking? It’s got more style and creativity to it. Mars helped decorate.

•Fights with kusari-fundo and hand-to-hand mostly. Also knows the basics of fighting with other weapons.

Leonardo

•Raised by Big Mama

•He/him pronouns

•Trans man

•Goes by Leo most commonly; the other in-canon nicknames still apply too

•Both outfits are colored after Leo’s pride flags

•The paint designs vary a lot, Leo likes to show variety

•After meeting Donnie, he actually starts to incorporate more purple into his color scheme!

•Gay gay gay gay gay gay GAY.

•Fights in the Battle Nexus for fun; really loves the thrill of it.

•Spoiled

•Manipulative as fuck, picked it up from his mother. EXTREMELY good at lying

•Gets bored easily and will act out to negate this feeling

•Talks a whole lot while fighting; always making jokes, trying to throw his opponents off their game. (Think Spider-Man or Deadpool)

•Leo can actually get really violent at times

•Backstory behind Leo’s name is that they had an old name when they were younger and hadn’t come out yet, but upon realizing they were trans, wanted to pick out a new name. Big Mama gave him a ton of resources and books and stuff to help with that process, but it was actually in an old book of Lou’s that had been left behind that Leo found the name “Leonardo” and went with that. It’s a really stupid coincidence, but it is what it is.

•The fact that Leo chose that name from one of Lou’s books is bittersweet for Big Mama. And kinda funny lol

•Mars and Leo have a rivalry that formed because of BM and Draxum.

•Super fond of Lou Jitsu movies, but can only ever watch them in secret

•Leo will sneak out to Hueso’s whenever he can because he feels like it’s the one place where he can relax and not have to hold up appearances

•Leo still knows Spanish in this au

•He’s still a very cocky showboat in this, just dial that up to 11.

•Mainly uses ōdachi or katanas to fight, however, Leo tends to just use whatever’s on hand in matches. Knows how to fight with a wide variety of weapons semi-professionally (and I say that loosely, Leo mostly just wings it)

•Able to use mystic powers and uses them well, but prefers not to when fighting.

•LOVES stage magic with a passion, and actually practices it in his spare time.

Rento Jones

•Raised by the Foot

•She/he pronouns

•Goes by Ren for short

•Backstory for Rento is that little Cassandra was lonely and didn’t have anyone her age in the clan, and the Foot Lieutenant & Brute ended up finding this baby snapping turtle on a whim and gave him to her as a pet. Little did they know Cass just gained a new sister instead of a pet.

•Much more prone to violence than in canon (or at least to anger)

•The name Rento has a few meanings to it, but I mainly chose it because it started with an R and it fit. And was of Japanese origin.

•Cassandra is adamant about the two of them being siblings, and since Ren didn’t have a last name of her own, Cass shared hers

•Rento is still extremely soft on the inside, but is very afraid to show that side to people he doesn’t know.

•The entire Foot Clan will annihilate you if you hurt Rento in any way

•The clan is super fond of its spiky murder reptile!

•Ren doesn’t realize what she’s doing might be seen as “wrong”, he’s just focused on helping the Foot and being proud of that. Only ever hesitates when directly hurting innocent people or animals comes into the picture.

•Rento’s only issue is with hurting innocent people or creatures; she won’t hold back if something gets in his way.

•Cass and Ren have a habit of hyping each other up

•Rento is super proud of looking big and scary cause it means she can better protect the people she cares about!

•Cass and Ren can both speak Japanese to a degree

•She has a huge collection of plushies that have either been gifts to him or were stolen from large businesses; can’t sleep without at least a few plushies around.

•Only turtle of the four who doesn’t know anything about their backstory or having siblings

•Switches between sai and tonfa to fight, but mainly sticks with the sais.

•Second-best fighter of the turtles; also knows how to fight with other weapons in basics. Mainly relies on hand-to-hand combat.

•Doesn’t know anything about mysticism

•Not very good at origami

•Loves watching Lou Jitsu movies, though Cassandra doesn’t share the enthusiasm.

[siremasterlawrence]

The Hypnotist Circle - Gassing Glen

What happened to Glen? Well! You see it all started because my car was dirty driving on my way to the beach.I saw his place was open so just drove in to see him enjoying hosing himself down a bit too much.My God! He had a hard to a disturbing level as he saw me, he giggles putting it down and lifts up the pocket.

I shake my head as he gets to work soaping up my car soon every inch in crevice is all suds up and I am hir with a blast off water works. I exit the car to see it pristine clean so I aid him to clean the car and as he goes in with his vacuum my plan is unfurled.I watch him do his job from the back I enjoy his butt with the knowledge of would soon be all mine to fuck with as I please.

He notices my engine light is starting to act weird when he bumped in to so he offers it free of charge and pops the hood.A bellow of gas’s shoots outward on to his face covering it as he yawns, eyes close, hands falls to the side and he falls backwards in

to my arms.

“Glen Activate”

“Glen Activation Initiated “

“Stand up”

“Open your shirt “

“Grab a hose”

“You add the hottest guy ever”

“You want to keep your customers “

“Put on a show “

“Yeehaw! How about you soak me up bud”

Enthusiastically I take the opportunity with gusto charging at him with the bucket of soapy water. Nothing gave me more lust and pleasure than soaping him up head to toes as he smirks with gleeful joy and wild abandonment.

On my command he grabs the hose washing himself off with it as he smiles excitedly like a wicked as if he were a petulant little kid who so behaving so abhorrently but who could be mad at that face I certainly can’t in fact I refuse too.

Quickly he gets dressed as he semi comes to his senses of his life but not of what had happened for him. Nor does he care at all because a few minutes later he is back to cleaning my car again.

“Can you check the air conditioner?”

“Sure! What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s the smell “

“Yeah! It’s horrific “

“I know right! It’s so hard to smell anything else.”

“You can’t but inhale it”

“It turns you on”

“Makes you hard”

“Yeah”

A few weeks later I saw him at a gym he goes to apparently completely in beast mode as it were demolishing every rep he could muster. I stood in amazement watching. I sign before I get a brilliant ideaIf I say so myself sneaking downstairs with no one eyes on me I manage to make it to the air vents.

Turning the distribution of air up I pour in a bigger amount of the gas as I watch its pump output increasing by second and place to nose plugs in to my nostrils as I wait for the magic. I waltz back upstairs to see him solely occupying room mindless on the machine with a sweet smile on his face unsuspecting of what is going on.

All my feeling of guilt evaporating from the moment I see his chiseled frame fill out his clothes and I even to fondle him with so much alertness and care. I strip him of clothes as I sit on his lap embracing him with a hug, inhaling his scent and finally kissing him.

Snapping my finger he comes to life once more finishing his set for me to watch in awe but also to do a victory lap in his bed later as a thank you. The place closes as we leave dog the night my words go soft to him inviting me in to his car as we drove off to his home.

He offers me a drink which I take feeling a deep connection to me he sits closer than before his eyes dart between mine and my cock. We kiss as electricity surges between us the whole world we be in awe at my good ole Hypno magic at work and no escape from it.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom”

“Yes Sir”

“1…2…3”

“No please !”

“SLEEP “

“Ugh!”

“I understand your apprehension “

“I am in control though”

“You can sit back”

“Take a back seat”

“Go to sleep”

“Your body is in a world of reckoning “

“Pleasure”

“Pain”

“Ecstasy “

“True beauty “

“Love every touch of my hand “

“The warmth of my body “

“Our connection “

“Your heart beats fast for me”

“Can you deny it?”

“Uuugggh”

“Well”

“No”

“Speak up next time”

“Here me out”

“Love me”

“Sweetheart “

“Fuck! I love you “

“My hand guides your cock”

“At my command cum and submit “

“CUM”

“FUCK”

“Yyyyeeesssss Mmmaaasssttteeerrrr”

The end

[set-wingedwarrior]

Why you should watch RWBY legally

Before I even begin, I want to clarify that it's not my intent to start a fight, guilt-trip, nor force anyone to do anything they don't wanna do. I am merely here to state the facts, as far as I know, and share with you all the reasonings that brought me to my decision. The goal here is to give you all the pieces of information for you to make yours as well.

That said, let's begin.

RT has been awful, employees deserve better, you're angry on their behalf, and I get that because I am too. But I still want and will support the RWBY through Crunchyroll, and here's why:

Pirating is going to hurt CRWBY much more than it will hurt RT. That's the simple truth, in this cases it's always the bottom line that gets the worst of it, so if your goal is to help the employees pirating this isn't the way to go.

Strictly tied to the first one, if a boycott was needed and useful, then they would have told us so. We're not there, we don't know specifically how this stuff works, so deciding to go on a mass protest in their behalf withouth their consent would probably just backfire and put them in even worse conditions. If they'll ever ask that out of us, I will, but for now that's not the case.

All CRWBY, former or not, has been nothing but excited to share their work with us. They want the show to succeed, to keep going and grow, and they're working so hard to achieve that; it just doesn't feel fair to deny them because of someone else's bad actions.

Crunchyroll is the best half-way if you want to support the show without supporting directly RT. Even if I don’t know how the deal works, I’m pretty sure that considering CR doesn’t care about anything else RT might have to offer, any money sent to them would be specifically for the show to continue (and possibly improve)

CRWBY litterally asked us to support them. We can see that on Geoff Yetter's post,

on A.G. Nonsuch's tweet that Kerry liked (and that even if he didn't I would still trust, because since she did work with RT and met CRWBY, I'm pretty sure she knows better than us)

and Arryn's (animator) explicit answer when someone litterally asked how to support RWBY withouth supporting RT (also, if you check their twitter page you'll find multiple likes and retweets or posts sharing the same sentiment)

Again, this isn't to force anyone to do anything they don't want to. I just want you to have all the information, think about what you goal is and act accordingly. Sadly, we can either support CRWBY or hurt RT, with Crunchyroll being the closest thing to get both.

Now, I know that a lot of people might want to support but can’t afford Crunchyroll (or simply don't see it worth it because they don’t watch any other anime). That’s completely fair and understandable but, if you want, I might have a couple of solutions to offer:

Share the account with someone else. It will cut costs, and for just a couple of months it should be bearable.

See if you know someone who already has one and is willing to let you temporarely use it.

Wait until all episodes are released and then make an account; CR offers a 14 days free trial for their premium subscription, and you could use it to binge the volume and still give it views (you don’t have to abstain yourself from watching the episodes as they air, you just need to give CR these views in the end, and if you don’t want to rewatch you could just let them autoplay).

In case someone is wondering, CRUNCHYROLL DOESN’T COUNT THE VIEWS BASED ON THE ACCOUNTS ALONE.

What I mean is that they count rewatches as views of their own, so if you share an account with multiple people and you’re all watching the show, all the views from each of them will be counted, and it will still support it (if you’re wondering how I know, I maild their Support and asked them directly).

That’s all about Crunchyroll. Technically, no one stops you from waiting a year and watch it on RT's platform; they'll be accessible with FIRST accounts only at first, then become free with ads later as usual. I doubt any of you would want to do that, but a lot of people seemed not to get that it won't stay behind a paywall forever so I thought it was worth sharing. I did say I wanted you to have all of the information after all.

And that’d be all, I guess. As I mentioned, this isn’t meant to guilt trip anyone: everyone is entitled to their feelings and what they feel is right. You do you. But as for me, I’d rather accidentally benefit some assholes in the process of helping someone who deserve it than having innocents get hurt because of the actions of some assholes higher ups.

RWBY is a unique show that deserves to live, and CRWBY (and I mean all the people, past and new) has been working so hard, for so long, to get to tell their story and make their dream come true. I don't want all of their work and struggle to be in vain as much as I don't want to lose my favorite show. So, I will listen to them and help them the way they ask me to. That's my goal.

Find what your goal is, and act accordingly.

[ladysomething]

4 other lestappen fics after this one? 😏

hehehe well now you've done it!!!!

behold, the other fics in waiting, including snippets from what I've already written of them.

in likely posting order, they are:

Post Aus GP fic where Max and Charles have been hooking up casually for a while and they both need to let some steam out after the race. daddy kink!

"Charles doesn’t text Max back until just past midnight. 

It’s a little earlier than Max expected, really. Back when every win for the team was hard fought, Max usually didn’t stumble back to his hotel until after the sun rose. 

Then again, if the team won, it was usually because it was him. Not his teammate. The circumstances are different. 

Charles replies with a room number, then says, I’m already back. Come when you can. 

Max see’s no point in waiting around—he’s been itching for this for hours, and Charles probably knows it. Instead, he quietly pushes back the sheets of his bed and slips out. He puts jeans on over his boxers, and then pulls on a sweatshirt, and pretends he can’t see Kelly watching him in the low light of his lit up phone screen. 

She doesn’t say anything when he slips the hotel key in his pocket, nor when he walks out the door, so Max doesn’t either. He knows she more than suspects he’s having an affair, but he’s not sure she know who it’s with. By now, she’s surely clued in to the fact that it’s somebody associated with F1 and who is always wherever he is."

hanhaki au where Hanahaki is a chronic illness developed when one keeps their feelings/emotions inside, and Max and Charles are both suffering from it.

"“You really haven’t spoken to him?” Daniel asks as Max picks the next track. 

Max rolls his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he tries to figure out how to answer. 

“I didn’t really want to talk to anybody after I was diagnosed,” he says eventually, hoping it’s enough to sate both Daniel and his own symptoms. His chest always gets tight when he talks about Charles these days, no matter how honest he is. Francois says it’s because he’s been living with the disease for a long time, now; that Hanahaki is degenerative, and soon he might not even be able to think about Charles in passing without coughing up flowers. 

“Sure, but Charles isn’t you,” Daniel answers. “He’s a yapper. It’s how he processes things. And being about to talk to someone who actually understands would be extra helpful, I’m sure.” 

Max knows all of that, obviously. He’s in love with the man—of course he knows it. 

Max just . . . doesn’t know how to be that person for him. He doesn’t know how to be comforting, he wasn’t built for it. He was built for ruthlessness, precision, for seeking out weakness and using them to his advantage."

fake Max autobiography that he releases in 2033. parts of the story are how the people he used to be friends with (so people on the current grid) react to what he reveals in the book, and then one who chapter is just a whole fake chapter from the memoir. that's the chapter I've written, so here's a piece from it!

"I don’t think there’s anything I can really do to make up for what I did to Charles. He and I haven’t spoken since I retired, in case you were wondering. 

Even the email exchange I talked about earlier actually went through our managers. 

Honestly, I don’t even think I deserve his forgiveness. He put up with me when no-one else would, loved me fully and completely, put me back together, tore me apart, then put me back together again. 

In some ways, I think he saved me. 

In other ways, he saved himself from me. 

I’m endlessly grateful for both. 

I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I can recognise now that a lot of my behaviours were because of the trauma I experienced at the hands of my father. I can also recognise that I need to take responsibility for them, because I was a grown adult making decisions of my own free will. 

I’m paying my penance for it, regardless. 

There is no chance that I will ever love anybody the way I loved Charles. It’s just too unlikely, that I could be lucky enough to meet a second person on this planet that made me feel like he did. 

But you don’t need to feel pity. You don’t need to be angry with me, either. I can assure you, I do plenty enough of both for all of us. 

And I’m fine. Life is fine. I’m far from unhappy. 

I know what I sacrificed. I know what I gave up. I know what I traded, to win what I won, to have what I do. 

And if there is one lesson my father taught me that I’m grateful for, it’s this: 

I know that I can bear a burden."

finally, a body swap!au in which Charles wishes to be World Champion, and instead body swaps with Max.

"“Make your decision, Mister Leclerc,” Althea says, not even looking up at him as she continues to sort her things. “Do you want to be Champion?” 

Charles’ breath hitches in his chest. 

“Yes,” he says decisively. He knows he can pick a secret that will satisfy Althea without it being life-destroyed. “Do I tell you the secret now?” 

He sifts through his memories, trying to come up with something he might be comfortable sharing. 

But all that comes up are things he would never say; how he’d once told Arthur that their parents didn’t love him and then felt terrible when his little brother had burst into tears; that he’d cried after having sex with a girl for the first and only time because he’d so desperately wished he could just like it and be normal; that he’d told Jules that he was in love with him and Jules had awkwardly patted his head and said it was probably just a crush and that he’d get over it, and, worse, that Jules had been right and he’d moved his attentions to a boy his own age by the end of the week; the terrible, awful, things he feels for—

Althea inhales sharply, eyes sliding closes. 

“Yes,” she breathes. “That.” 

Charles rips his hand away from hers, breathing deeply. “You—can you—” 

She raises a brow at him, pressing her red-painted lips together. 

“Get out of my head,” he commands hotly, standing up so fast his chair falls back, slamming against the ground."

[diddybok]

born to die | minho

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in anyway represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: minho x gn!reader

➩genre(s): ANGST, fluff, smut, non-idol!au, switch!minho

➩warnings: death, smoking, pet names, sexual themes (18+) sex (unprotected- pls use protection!), explicit language, people watching (not sexual!) [anything else i have missed]

➩summary: a story based on the song ‘born to die’ by lana del ray. minho was the chosen victim i’m afraid.

➩wc: 5k (5,046)

➩author’s note: i am so sorry.

don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry.

Cold, wet, miserable. The transition from autumn to winter makes itself known harsher than it has ever done before. As the wind cries, an acrimonious chill soars through the air looking to communicate with the souls that are derived of their light.

Minho walks down the desolate street playing with his lighter. A custom made lighter; a muted grey with the engraving of a peacock feather on it. A gift he got on his birthday from an old friend. It packs quite a punch he must say.

He takes one last long drag from his cigarette, taking back the nicotine to fill his lungs before freeing the smoke to dance through the smog. It feels familiar, the taste of nicotine on his tongue. It has been a while since he has smoked. He didn’t miss it per-say, but fuck did it have its way of ebbing the pain.

A brown weathered bench comes into his line of view. He sits at this bench so much that he has assessed the best and worst parts of it to sit on. He collapses down, slightly off-centre and releases a long sigh.

Dawn is his favourite time of the day. The route he can walk with his eyes closed allows him to pass by the type of people he finds pleasure in watching. Minho was adroit at reading people. He much preferred to observe rather than enter a conversation in which he would need to cue his laughs and pretend to be sympathetic towards people who, he concluded, deserved nothing but to get castrated.

05:29am, right on time. Paul flits around the corner and continues down the path. Minho monitors the morning runner closely, counting his steps. Usually Paul does four hundred down this path before he is out of sight. His strides are longer today, seems he wants to get his run over and done with.

Minho likes Paul, though he’s never interacted with him. He needs not to, him watching from afar every dawn for the past ten months has made Paul the closest person he can refer to as a friend in his life currently.

Sad? Far worse. Depressing.

Things in his life changed drastically when you left him. You…your name leaves a vexatious taste in his mouth. It ire’s him just how easily you ruined him. He didn’t think he could possibly hate anyone on this planet as much as he does you. All because you broke the promises you made him.

He hates you. He doesn’t think he will ever stop hating you. He can’t, he won’t.

The friends he did have, he casted them aside. Dropped them like a tree ridding itself of its leaves. Every now and then one of his old friends, Chris, checks up on him. Whether it be sending him a letter -Minho had blocked his number- or a care package. He can’t deny the fact that it really pisses him off.

There goes Vanessa, or as people formally call her, Miss Phillips. He discovered that she is a teacher who specialises in helping children with special needs. Minho is quite fond of Vanessa. He usually likes to guess what style her hair will be next. She untucks her hair from her coat, braids. He hisses and shakes his head slightly as he guessed wrong again.

Minho reaches for the cold flip lighter and runs his thumb over the engraving. Never one to believe in superstitions, he thinks about the argument on whether a peacock feather brings good or bad luck.

It attracted the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in this world. For that, he was beyond grateful for this small object. Until the thing that was so beautiful became cold, unknown, and cause him the worst ache of all. Ache from the heart that shattered into many, many minuscule pieces. One that he knows can never be meticulously mended.

He shouldn’t be thinking about that, about you. His therapist strongly advises against such and directs him to remember his two little people he keeps an eye on. ‘Paul and Vanessa, just think about Paul and Vanessa. You have formed some sort of relationship with them in which you have developed a fidelity. They aren’t any the wiser, but they are a reason for you holding on and gravitating your mind to moving forward.’ His therapist had said.

Minho’s hands start to shake and not due to the cold air. He curses to himself as he opens his cigarette box to find it empty. He was perturbed by his thoughts and needed to rid his growing anxiety before he has an attack.

The universe astutely discerns the situation, for a small friendly body rubs against his calf. Purring fills his senses and he looks down to see the stray cat staring up at him.

The cat seems to mimic his every move. He lifts an arm, the cat lifts its paw to touch his leg. He tilts his head, the cat does the same. If Minho clenches his fist tightly in his lap, then the cat rubs on his calf to soothe him.

It doesn’t take long for a decision to be made, for he and the cat coalesce. He gently picks it up and continues his journey home. The cat immediately becoming the third most important thing in his life.

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

come and take a walk on the wild side. let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain.

“Honey?”

“In here!”

Minho follows the sound of your voice, finding you snuggled up in a blanket snacking on some popcorn and listening to some music. You turn to acknowledge him and he physically feels his heart swell. The way you look at him with such light and love is enough for it to be his main source of oxygen. God he is painfully in love with you.

“Hello my darling, how was work?” You ask with a tilt of your head. His heart skipped a beat.

“It was irritating,” he moves to lay on you, resting his head on your stomach as your hands find their way to his head, “Chris is annoying me again.” He says with a roll of his eyes. You chuckle lightly at that.

“Did he put his lunch in your designated spot in the fridge again? Or was it that he offered you an iced latte instead of an Americano? Oh! Maybe he asked whether you were free this weekend and asked you to hang out? Or-”

You are cut off with a rambunctious groan that makes you erupt in a fit of laughter. Minho goes to roll off you irked by your teasing, but you trap him with your legs and apologise by smothering his face in kisses.

Hearing just some of the things that he relayed to you about his days at work made him sound ridiculous for even being annoyed at such things.

You have an extraordinary way of doing that. Reminding him that he’s being too pessimistic about life without explicitly saying so. He realistically doesn’t need to be pessimistic anymore. Not when he has you in his life, you are warm sun to shine through his cold grey skies.

It’s astounding just how long he was able to survive before you. You have moulded him unknowingly into a man capable of loving someone to an extent which is unearthly. He is your paean to how beautiful love can be and you are his saviour.

“What’s going on in that pretty head?” You ask, rubbing your hands up and down his back. It should not surprise him how well you know him.

“Do you know how much you mean to me? I can’t breathe without you Y/n. That’s frightening. I never thought I could genuinely be so happy. I never knew what love was until you y’know?” Minho says.

He can feel your breath quicken and your heartbeat increase, but you’re silent. So he continues.

“I truly think, no, I know you make me a better man. I don’t know why I am being sentimental right now, I think you have me in a lifelong trance.” He lifts his head up, resting his chin on your chest. He watches a tear fall from your eye. He wishes in that exact moment, that he could read people’s minds. Read your mind.

“Why must you do that to me unprovoked?” You sob. It’s his turn to comfort you as he manoeuvres his way out of the position you both currently hold. He lifts you gently and places you on top of him to which you bury your face in his neck.

The pitter-patter of rain starts to make itself known as the weather mimics your mood. Minho enjoys the rain though, it soothes him. Much like you soothe him. It’s strange, he can see the similarities between you and droplets of rain. Both refresh and cool him down when he’s too hot. Both make sounds that immediately puts him into a tranquil state. Both necessary to the world to make the flowers bloom and the grass look greener.

You are his rain.

He runs his fingers along your spine as you mutter incomprehensible words. If he had to guess you are telling him that he’s a villain for making you feel such a way randomly in the day. You referred to him as such before.

Minho is a prick, albeit a lovable one; a prick nonetheless. He loves the way you react to his spontaneous outbursts of reasons why he loves you. Maybe it’s the way you look so adorable when you cry. Maybe it’s the way you will always cling to him after he does so. Whatever the reason, it only makes his heart grow fonder.

The room is filled with your sniffles here and there, low music, and the sound of heavy rain hitting the window.

Minho lays with you, his eyes closed, swaying you gently.

“Do you want to go and play in the rain?” He says breaking the rhythm of sounds.

“Do I want to go and play in the rain?” You echo, laughing, “No, I don’t want to get my hair wet.”

“You can wear my hoodie and my raincoat?” He suggests. You look up at him, sitting up fully. He just smiles at you, awaiting your response.

“You really are serious…wow.”

“It’ll be fun, come on!” He exclaims picking you up with him as he gets up from the sofa. He goes to grab a hoodie of his, one of your favourite ones to wear. He tucks your hair inside of the hood and pulls the drawstrings to tighten it around your face.

He laces the string with a bow and kisses the tip of your nose. He then runs to get his raincoat and swiftly encloses you inside of it. He laughs at you.

“What?” You say feigning annoyance with a tilt of your head.

“Nothing…” He hums with laughter. “You just remind me of an Ewok” He laughs pinching your cheeks. You scrunch your face up due to the attack of his fingers and try to bat him away.

“You basically just called me a tiny bear.” You groan.

“My cute tiny bear. Come.” He grabs your hand and leads you towards the front door so you can both put on your shoes. He glances you way, shooting you an ‘Are you ready?’ look, to which you just roll your eyes at him.

He doesn’t give you another second to change your mind, him basically lifting you off your feet and into the empty street. You squeal as the rain comes down hard, instantaneously soaking both Minho and you.

Minho closes his eyes and raises his head to the sky, letting the rain trickle down his face. He laughs and then looks down at you. Staring up at him, you look at him like he is the only person ever. He scans your face, taking in your beauty. He is too in awe to speak, instead choosing to try and contain his smile by biting his lip. It doesn’t work.

“I’ll love you forever.” You say loudly over the rain. Minho’s heart stops beating for several moments.

“Promise me that, my love.” He says, cupping your face in both of his hands. His thumbs rest just beneath your eyes and he wipes the water away from them.

“I promise.”

He kisses you deeply, lovingly, passionately. And the both of you stand there in the pouring rain, smiling through your kisses and failing to suppress your laughter.

It was in that moment, that you two were the only people in the world. The two brightest of stars, conjoining to rival the sun.

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

choose your last words, this is the last time

Minho paces back and forth in front of your driveway before approaching your door. He messed up big time, so he keeps being told by your friend Jeongin. He has always found your friends tiresome. Why being sent a paragraph long text of middle finger emoji’s is warranted for his jealousy? He will never know.

He isn’t quite sure how to say he is sorry for what he did. He trusts you. Of course he trusts you, it’s you. You would never do anything to hurt him, let alone in spite of his childish moods.

He musters up enough courage to knock on your front door. Yet as he was about to, he retracts his hand. What if this is something you will never forgive him for? That can’t possibly be an outcome of all this. Can’t it?

He backs away from the door, pacing again. To any of your neighbours, he must look like some creep trying to talk himself into breaking into your house. It’s best he just be brave and-

“Minho?”

He freezes in his tracks as he sees you in your pyjamas, carrying a trash bag. If your face didn’t hold that nasty scowl directed towards him, he would have thought you looked cute in the set he got you for your birthday. You clear your throat. Right, he is here to plead his case.

“Hey…bin collection day tomorrow?”

An awful start.

You brush past him, throwing the bag into the bin. He watches you awkwardly, placing a hand on the back of his neck.

You walk back inside, but open the door wider. Taking that as his cue to go inside, he scurries in, sure to be quick as to keep the warmth inside.

You immediately head to your room and he sheepishly follows, acting as if he doesn’t know the layout of your house by memory.

As you both enter your room, you go off to the bathroom to wash your hands. He sits and waits for you on the bed. His attention momentarily drawn to the window where he sees drops of rain run down the glass. He smiles softly before returning to his solemn state.

The bed dips beside him and he has to force himself not to stare at the side of your head. The remote control to your television gets thrown into his lap. He looks down, then up at you confused.

“Pick something. Give yourself a couple of minutes to calm down and then say what you have to say.” You speak assertively.

He does as you say without question. Even if you are mad at him, you still know that he can struggle with righting his wrongs. Oh how he loves you.

A few minutes pass and Minho does indeed feel calmer. Enough to start the conversation he is still, slightly, scared to have.

“I am sorry. I had no right to tell you what to wear that night. I also acted like a dick to every single person that approached you, even your friends. That was not cool of me. At all.” He starts.

His eyes meet yours and it takes everything in him to not cower away in embarrassment. The reality of his actions settling in.

“You are beautiful. I know that, everyone else knows that. I think I just got annoyed by people gushing to me about you and how they would love to be with you.” He turns to the window again, watching the rain as it gets heavier.

“It triggered a protective side of me, well, a primal one.” He looks towards you now as you sit against the headboard, waiting for him to continue. “You’re mine and I didn’t want people to think they even had a chance with you.”

“Surely you would only think that if you didn’t completely trust me.” You argue, raising an eyebrow.

Minho starts to fiddle with the remote. Casting his eyes away from yours in embarrassment.

“That, would be a viable response to that yes. But I do trust you! I promise. You haven’t given me any reason not to trust you I just-” He cuts himself off, holding back on what he truly wants to say.

He hears you sigh and you move to place your hand on his forearm. You stroke his arm softly with your thumb, letting him take his time. He really appreciates this side of you.

“I haven’t been feeling like I am enough for you. I don’t feel good in my body as of late and I think those insecurities translated through my actions of how I ministered to our relationship,” Minho takes a long, drawn out breath before continuing. “I think I was trying to drag you down with me into the same state of mind. For that, I am sorry Y/n.” He finishes looking up at you as his eyes shimmer from the fresh tears that threaten to fall.

You two stare at each other for a little while longer, the silence making Minho more panicked. You crawl over to him and straddle his lap, taking him by surprise. Your hands finding their rightful place in his hair, stroking softly.

“Thank you for apologising to me. Make sure to also apologise to the many of my friends you rubbed the wrong way,” You chuckle lightly. “But thank you for opening up to me and telling me what has been troubling you.” You take a deep breath and release with a sigh. “It doesn’t mean that I am completely happy with you, but I do want to show you that you are beautiful. You are everything and more to me Min.” You say smiling softly.

Minho swallows, his eyes blinking rapidly as he listens to you. He places his hands on your hips and strokes them softly. He may not be able to respond right now, the words caught in his throat. So he wants to let you know that he hears you.

“This is a conversation that needs to be finished when emotions aren’t as strong. However, I have failed as your lover to not make you feel like you’re enough. To not make you feel as if you are the sexiest man I have ever laid my eyes on.” You tantalisingly move your hips on his crotch.

The way his body responds to you will never cease to amaze him. All it takes is you sitting on top of him, hell, one look when you stare at him with those eyes and he is ready to go.

Gyrating slowly and pressing down on his now evident erection, a small whine escapes his lips. You smile at that and lift your shirt up off your body. Grabbing his hands, you lift them up to your chest for him to pay attention to your nipples.

He immediately began pinching and rolling them between his fingers. Your moans elicits a thrust of his hips up into your heat. Wanting more, you grab his head and he understands what you want of him. His eyes flutter closed and he attaches his soft lips to the bud, sucking and swirling his tongue. Releasing beautiful moans, he gets off to the salacious image of you using him at any given time to make him suck your nipples.

“I love the way you love my nipples Min. Love the little sounds you make.” You throw your head back in pleasure. “All reasons why you are the sexiest man I know.” You mewl softly.

He switches nipples frantically. Always eager to please you. Only you. He craves every little thing about you. The way your lips taste, the way you taste. The way your body shudders around him as he takes you whenever you let him.

He is love drunk off of you. You are like a drug to him and he wishes to consume you ‘til his dying breath.

The way you grind your hips down on him is unholy, it is like you are trying to make him cum in his pants. He is close, so close. His moans turning into desperate high pitched whimpers.

You halt your movements and hover above his lap. Swallowing the noise of disappointment with your mouth on his. Your tongue claiming the entirety of his mouth. You are so filthy and he loves it.

You catch his bottom lip between your teeth, dragging it slightly before gazing up at him with those eyes. You run your hands from his shoulders down his body, painfully slowly.

His head falls back into the pillow as he looks up at the ceiling, fighting the urge to just pull his pants down enough for him to free himself and fuck you senselessly until he is a shaking mess.

He knows better than to do that though. He wants to be good for you. Your good boy.

You pull down his joggers and his underwear and he shivers slightly. You hum in approval and kitten lick the head of his cock.

“Y/n, bunny, please don’t tease me!” He squalls. He thinks maybe he is being punished for his behaviour. It’s the only way to explain the way you stroke him at a leisurely pace.

“Hush, let me appreciate you. M’gonna make you feel good love” You mumble more to yourself than to him.

Before he could protest anymore, he sharply intakes a breath. The way your lips mould around him so deliciously. Taking him down your pretty little throat. How did he get so lucky to find someone that riles him up as much as you do?

His hands reach down to lightly tug your hair, using it as a handle as he guides your head up and down. Your mouth felt so good. It always feels so good.

He simply can’t control the needy whimpers and whines that are released from his throat. The sound doing so much as to turn him on even more. He has to be careful, he doesn’t want to finish like this, not before you anyways. That is just selfish, what man doesn’t let his gorgeous little pet finish before him?

He pulls you off of him, catching you by surprise. His eyes are dark now, as if a switch was flipped. He comes to his senses, his mission to grab back the reigns and take control. He inhibits you wiping the drool from your mouth as he pulls you into him and crashes his lips into yours.

You moan into his mouth and he is sure to swallow every one. He flips you onto your back, lightly pinning your arms in place. You are breathtaking. Just looking at the way your body glistens with sweat in the moonlight. Looks so tempting, so inviting. Like he wants to create a masterpiece with your empty canvas.

He kisses every part of your body, painting a picture with the little marks he leaves in his wake. His mouth hovers over your heat, breathing softly before planting a chaste kiss.

“Oh kitten…you are dripping.” He says with a devilish grin. “Is this all for me?” He asks tilting his head as he now looks up at you. He concludes that your mewling won’t satisfy him with the answer he wants to hear.

He squeezes your thighs roughly, causing you to look down at him. He just looks up at you with those gorgeous black eyes, his smile charming.

“I believe I asked you a question. Is my darling already too fucked out? I haven’t even touched you in the place you so desperately need me yet. Did you have your fun, having the control hm?”

“Yes, yes it’s all for you Min.” You whine attempting to squeeze your thighs together, but he is quicker than you. Spreading them wide his kisses litter just around your centre. His teasing merciless as you writhe beneath him.

“Min please, no more teasing. Need your mouth on me.” You beg, pushing your hips up to meet his face. He moves back, amused by your neediness.

“Well if that’s what my little kitten wants, then it’s what my little kitten should get hm?”

Your body shudders as he goes down on you. Lapping up your juices like a man who has been starved for weeks. He feels your hands in his hair and it turns him on. He can’t help but to rut against the bed to relieve some of the tension. The sounds, the sight, it is all truly so vulgar. Yet he loves nothing more than to please you.

After all, his name does sound prettiest when it is you moaning it in frantic desperation.

He makes you come undone three times and before he could get to four, you had pushed him away. Catching your breath as he knelt beside you and admires you. Admires the way the sweat trickles down the valley of your chest. The marks that colour your skin so deliciously. The way your eyes are closed tightly and your mouth open, no doubt getting a little dry.

He places an open mouthed kiss to your lips, his tongue providing the moisture that was being lost due to your heavy intake of air. He releases your lips and you make a noise of surprise as he opens your legs and situates himself between them, pushing into you slowly.

He has to still himself or else he will quite literally combust. You feel so good wrapped around him. You always feel so good. He opens his eyes to you already staring up at him Your eyes are overflowing with desire and he has to take a mental picture.

“You intoxicate me. How is it I feel such burning passion whenever I am around you?” He starts to move within you, slowly, intimately, as he takes a deep breath. “I belong to you Y/n. I promise that I will never live a day without telling you that.” His strokes get deeper.

You are a babbling mess. He can’t decipher anything you say, so he swallows your attempt with his mouth on yours. It isn’t until he can taste salt that he realises he is crying. So much for keeping the control. He pulls away and places his arms beside your head, his pace still slow and deep.

“Look at me my darling,” He says with a shaky voice. He watches you flutter your eyes open. “Promise, mmh, promise me you will never leave my side.”

“I promise you.” You say, your own voice faltering no doubt being consumed by a ray of emotions. He drops his head into the crook of your neck, his tears now flowing down your neck. He feels your arms tighten around him. One hand on his back, one hand in his hair, stroking softly as you mutter ‘I love you’ over and over again.

He made love to you that night until the sun graced the sky. Never falling short of telling you just how much he adores you.

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

we were born to die.

It’s been a year now. A year of watching Paul and Vanessa, two months since he brought Dori home. Other than those three main factors in his life now, Minho is still miserable.

Much like the weather this morning as it downpours. He’s learnt to hate the rain since the end of his relationship with you. There isn’t much to like, not anymore.

He walks the same route he always does. His shoes are getting muddy, the path littered in grass clippings collated by the water. It proves to be extremely bothersome to see the grass stick to his shoes. Especially on a day like today, if grass is the thing that sets Minho off into a fit of rage; so help anyone who pisses him off on his way home.

Life is cruel. It will give you one thing you wish to cherish forever, to love until you can’t love no more. Makes you feel found when you were lost for so long. Gives you happiness, makes you feel alive like you can accomplish anything the world throws in your direction.

Then it takes it away. Just like that. The thing you had wished to cherish, perishes. Strips you of your ability to love. When you were finally found, you become lost again. Takes your happiness, makes you feel as if you’re rotting inside like you can’t will yourself to try and overcome the obstacles the world throws in your direction.

Living a life like that is revolting. A life in which you feel your only purpose of being born was to die. Minho laughs bitterly to himself. Born to die. Ironic because no matter what people tell you, that is always going to be the outcome of all life.

As he stands with the flowers in his hand, he isn’t sure whether it’s his tears or the rain. Perhaps both as they start to trickle down the petals and collate in the pistil.

He kneels, unbothered about the grass and mud stains he is to get on the knee caps of his trousers.

Resting the flowers against the polished marble, his fingers journey over the name etched in the stone.

Your name.

His hand falls from the gravestone and situates themselves next to his head that has now pressed itself firmly into the ground. He sobs as he bows over you.

He loves you. He doesn’t think he will ever stop loving you. He can’t, he won’t.

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.

© 2023 diddybok

[juniorig0327]

Thinking about Percy’s time at CJ and CHB in my AU and ever since I learned this fact I can’t stop thinking about it.

So essentially in the Iliad Achilles throwing around (for lack of better term) Hectors body after his death essentially meant in Ancient Greece customs that he wouldn’t be given a proper burial and so his soul would never reach the underworld which is why they were so adverse to the sea because it was seen as a something that would swallow them whole, that would take their bodies so they would never be found. And essentially it means you’re in a way “forgotten”.

So I’m just thinking about on top of how CHB treats big three kids how this could make his experience even worse.

Because in CJ he doesn’t really feel like he belongs. He doesn’t really fit into the society he has and he tends to break a lot of rules by just being him and eventually just sort of conforms to their society, especially in the face of the psychological abuse of his mentors (Luke and the Praetor before him which I swore I gave a name).

Not to mention he’s also sort of the mediator between the Roman gods and CJ as they typically don’t come directly. He also becomes the champion for Jupiter and is able to use and channel his domain through his weapons but he doesn’t ever really feel loved by any of the gods as if they were family. Sure they favor him (most of them, Jupiter likes him but his brothers and sisters don’t, not really) but it’s not really familial love.

At CJ he’s reluctantly respected and more so feared than anything. They just know power and bow in the face of it.

Then he goes to CHB. Everyone there is so different, they’re more free. They sit at a campfire and roast marshmellows. They get to be a kid, which Percy has a hard time adjusting to. He tries to let his walls down, to act like the Greeks because he doesn’t hate them, not really.

But besides people such as Annabeth or Grover or Clarisse (just to name a few) they don’t seem to like him either, and instead they punish him. He learns about Thalia and thinks that he just has to be like Thalia right? He’s been conforming his entire life so he just has to do it again and then they’ll like him, right?

No matter what Percy does, the camp is still unnerved by him. Because he isn’t a child of Zeus, sure he’s a champion of Jupiter, but a title like that isn’t respected or acknowledged, not to the Greeks and Jupiter can only help so much when he isn’t in Roman territory.

By the end he loses Jupiter’s favor and he’s given a lot for the camp, and they try to like him, but he’s still a Roman. He’s still going to do things that seem to Roman and militaristic for their liking because that’s how he was raised since he was oh so young, he can’t help it, not really.

So by the time the war with Kronos ends, he’s sort of like a rolling stone. He doesn’t fit here nor there. But he has his friends and for now, it’s enough. He has his amazing girlfriend Annabeth, his best friends Grover, Jason, & Clarisse. He has Nico who he made amends with and is getting treated way better than he ever did (because he’s Greek through and through?) and he’s happy. Sure Gaea is still out there scheming but for now he just gets to rest.

And then one day he wakes up in chains trying to figure out where he is.

[ovaruling]

You made a post earlier about how you are feeding stray cats. Since it seems like you're very concerned about the environment I wonder why you are doing this. Aren't stray/outdoor cats horrible for the environment? Mostly because they kill animals that are actually important for nature like birds and rodents. Not trying to be rude just wondering why you think feeding them is a good idea, because it's basically helping a population that has no place in nature and does nothing but harm.

look, i’m not without my weaknesses—i can’t look at a starving stray cat and not feed it. maybe others can, but i can’t. i never claimed to be a paragon.

however, i must clarify something and also point out that i think im doing my part more than your average stray-feeder—i spend 1-2 hours each day trying to trap the cats. every day, from 4-5pm and sometimes later. i drop what im doing to spend time on it.

i have a folding chair to sit on and stake them out, a new implement of a bathroom mirror from a construction site that i set up next to the feeding station (to see the cats without startling them), and a large dog crate in which i put the food.

i recently caught 2 of the said stray cats last week and had them fixed and they will no longer be contributing to the environmental decline, nor will they ever produce litters. i’m working on a third.

i feed on my own property and i have caught and fixed and thus removed from the environment approximately 20 or more cats since i was like, i can’t remember—10, 11, 12. somewhere around there—i was in some degree of childhood when i started. i still use the same large dog crates i had back then to catch them. it takes weeks, sometimes months. sometimes a year or more in the case of my toughest one, an aggressive feral male who was causing issues in the neighborhood and who is now my housecat and best friend and wreaks no more havoc. i didn’t give up on him and it ended up being for the better bc no one else was going to give enough of a shit to spend the time it was going to take to catch him. (i’ve said this before but, i had to go on 3 rounds of antibiotics bc he kept biting me horribly every time i tried to catch him)

all this to say: my success in catching stray cats is owed largely to my patience and my willingness to spend hours gaining their trust by feeding them and having them associate my presence with food and fresh water.

so i know it’s not without criticism to feed them, but i do put in hours and hours each week feeding these strays specifically to try to catch them—and i often succeed. (edit: i don’t always. there are a few cats i don’t know if i’ll ever be able to catch, but i won’t stop trying.)

this is what ive been doing my whole life and i will continue to try to make an impact on my local environment in this unique way. i don’t expect others to understand my methods and the specific way that i do things (it’s different for each cat depending on how i assess their personality and needs and habits etc etc), but the fact that i’ve removed 20 or more strays from my neighborhood over the last decade or so is an impact that matters, i think.

especially since i pay out of my own pocket to take them to the vet, to fix them, vaccinate them, and treat them for any and all ailments, and i also have housed them myself or rehomed them. it’s a huge drain on my resources but it’s one i am happy to do for the rest of my life. not least bc no one else in my area is bothering to do anything about them.

so—take that for what you will. that’s my contribution and it’s not perfect but i think i do a good job at reducing the number of stray cats in my local ecosystem and i have to conclude that because of that i MUST have reduced a lot of the environmental destruction that they would’ve otherwise done. much better than anyone else who lives around here, that’s for sure.

tl;dr—i am basically doing the job my local animal care & control is supposed to be doing about stray cats, for free, by myself, at my own expense and on my own time—and i 100% cannot do that job without feeding them

edit: i didn’t mean for this to sound as defensive and doth protesting as it did—i realize i’ve never quite explained exactly What it is i do with regard to stray and feral cats, and of course i can’t expect others to read my mind or know my life and motivations just from scattered posts i make lol. i hope i answered your question somewhat, and im happy to answer any more that you have.

[heliads]

'time to spare' - genya safin

Based on this request: "my beloved male Squaller is somehow stuck with Nikolai and they just… bicker and ma boi is just teasing him with Zoya like “I know you love her! Because you look like me when I talk about Genya! … and Zoya does too. When she talks about you.”"

masterlist

Keeping a king safe is a difficult and dangerous thing. The task is made exponentially more challenging when the king you’re meant to be protecting is even a little bit obstinate or hotheaded. When the king has lived a separate life as Sturmhond, one of the most infamous privateers to grace the True Sea, you might as well give up hope. Nikolai Lantsov may be the current king of Ravka, but that doesn’t seem to have stopped him from taking just as many risks as when he had commanded warships on the open ocean.

As a Squaller, you’ve been blessed with gifts beyond what a normal man could ever dream of achieving. Over the years, you’ve honed your ability to control wind and air to a knifepoint’s accuracy. You can hear intruders coming from leagues away. You can steal breath from a man’s lungs in the blink of an eye. However, there is one thing you can’t do, and that is to talk Nikolai out of a suicide mission when he feels it’s the right course of action to take.

You had tried, this time. Really, you had. While returning home from an important meeting with Ravkan nobles situated near Tsibeya, Nikolai had heard that some important hostages were being held in a keep just a short distance over the Fjerdan border. He had insisted that he would lead a charge to rescue the hostages, and despite your arguing that this was a terrible idea, the attack had been launched accordingly. You and Nikolai had gone along with maybe half a dozen other Ravkan guards.

Despite your best intentions, however, you were caught in the act of freeing the hostages. Nikolai had directed a couple of his guards to take the hostages and run. Seeing as you haven’t heard of them since, you can assume that they got to freedom, but you and Nikolai weren’t so lucky. A pair of other soldiers are imprisoned in a cell down the hall, and you and Nikolai share a similar block. Your hands are chained above your head, giving you just enough room to sit on the stone floor and lean against a wall for some semblance of comfort. 

Since your hands are bound, you can’t summon your Squaller abilities and Nikolai can’t pick the lock from his angle. The only thing left to do, then, is to wait for the guards to get back to camp and bring reinforcements. Unfortunately, neither you nor Nikolai are very good at waiting.

Barely an hour or two has passed before the two of you start getting impatient. There are Fjerdan guards somewhere out in the hall, although they’ve been careful to keep out of sight so as to disguise their numbers.

Nikolai whistles quietly under his breath. “D’you reckon they’d give me a deck of cards if I promised not to break out of here?” He asks you. “I’m kind of bored.”

“Your hands are chained together,” you note. “How in the Saints’ name would you play cards?”

Nikolai frowns. “I hadn’t considered that. Maybe we could use our toes?”

“I’m not touching cards that your toes have touched,” you tell him.

Nikolai makes a face. “They’re royal toes. I hear some people would consider anything touched by my toes a holy relic.”

“I believe the fact that I don’t think that is a strong reason that you hired me in the first place,” you remind him. “You were afraid that I would sell off your used handkerchiefs or something.”

Nikolai nods slightly, accepting this. “It was a real concern. Of course, you could sell off my handkerchiefs even if you didn’t believe they were religious relics, but I appreciate you abstaining from that. It would be dreadfully difficult to explain to the palace seamstresses if I constantly needed new ones.”

“That would be awful,” you remark. “Also, keep your voice down. If these Fjerdans haven’t clued onto the fact that you’re the king, I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Of course, my trusted guard,” Nikolai says. He attempts to salute you, but the chains make it difficult to fully complete the gesture. “I assumed they would have known by now, though. I saw them sending a scout out. Plus, they kept pointing at my face. I know it’s irresistibly attractive, but there’s no need to single me out like that unless they suspect something.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe they were commenting on the fact that they’d never seen such a vain prisoner in their entire lives.”

“Or maybe they suspected a Lantsov,” Nikolai murmurs. “I’m out of royal uniform since we were traveling. Unless they’d personally seen me before, they’d have no reason to suspect I was anything more than a highly placed guard.”

You shrug as best you can despite the chains. “True. Then the only thing we can do right now is make sure we’re not here when they send someone who can recognize your face.”

Nikolai glances obviously at the chains securing both of your wrists, then the locked cell door. “That makes perfect sense to me. What’s your plan for getting out?”

You meet his stare unblinkingly. “I’m just the muscle, your highness. I believe you’re the one who’s meant to be coming up with plans.”

Nikolai mutters a few uncharitable curses, then adds on, “I suppose you’re right about that. Maybe Zoya will come and save us all. She’s prone to fantastic rescues.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the soft expression that comes over his face. “Of course your first thought goes straight to Zoya.”

Nikolai narrows his eyes at you. “What exactly is that supposed to mean? I am perfectly capable of referring to my second in command. I thought that was expected of first in commands.”

You bite back a laugh. “Of course it is. It’s just that you’re hopelessly in love with her, and that makes the whole affair rather amusing to watch.”

Nikolai’s jaw drops. He attempts to swat you on the hands for that sort of remark, but he just can’t manage it with the position of his chains, so he settles instead for sort of aggressively tapping your boot with his. “How dare you? Take that back at once.”

This time, you can’t help a proud grin. “Of course I won’t. You’re stuck in here with me, so I’ll say what we’ve all been wanting to say for a long time. You are in love with Zoya Nazyalensky.”

Nikolai’s brows jump comically. “Oh, all of us, huh? I want names, L/N.”

“I’m not going to rat out my own men,” you say exasperatedly, “Besides, I’d have to tell you the names of everyone in Os Alta. Except Zoya, of course. For some reason, she’s just as oblivious as you are.”

“Don’t call Zoya oblivious,” Nikolai says fiercely.

You fight the urge to groan. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t go an hour without bringing her up or otherwise defending her honor. You’re in love, Nik. Admit it.”

Nikolai purses his lips, looking studiously out the bars of the cell door instead of at you. “I don’t have to do anything of the sort. This is pure speculation.”

“It is not speculation,” you insist. “I know you’re in love because you look just like me whenever I talk about Genya.”

Nikolai frowns. “I don’t talk about Genya. No more than my job requires, of course.”

For such a clever fox, Nikolai can be decidedly thick-headed when he puts his mind to it. You fight the urge to scream and instead carry on with your argument. “I should hope you’re not talking about my wife like that. I’m right, though. There are parallels here, Nikolai. Serious parallels. I’m in love with Genya and you’re in love with Zoya. Can we agree on that?”

Nikolai is silent for a moment. At last, the tentative peace in the cell is broken by his quiet question, “Do you really think she loves me?”

You snort. “You don’t even have to ask.”

“I do,” Nikolai tells you. He looks directly at you, as if he could tell your truth from lies by just the movement of your pupils. “Does Zoya love me?”

“Yes,” you say firmly. “She loves you just as much as you love her.”

Nikolai releases a breath, crumpling back against the cell wall again. “Saints. I didn’t even know.”

“You were scared to admit it was a possibility,” you correct. “But I think you did know.”

“Maybe,” Nikolai says. “Kings aren’t supposed to be scared.”

“Men are,” you say simply. “It’s not a bad thing. Saints know I was positively petrified to tell Genya how I felt.”

Nikolai chokes out a laugh. “Oh, I almost forgot about that. You were a mess for days leading up to it.”

You shrug. “And look where it got me. I’m a married man, Nikolai. Things work out.”

“Things work out,” he repeats slowly, going over the words like they were a mantra or a prayer.

Maybe he really did mean it as a prayer, because silence has hardly settled over the cell again before the door at the far end of the hall flies open, slamming into the wall with a deafening thud. The Fjerdan guards rise to meet the challenge, but they’re immediately forced to the ground by a mass of fierce wind so strong it might as well have been a solid wall.

A grin rises to your lips. You’ve only seen one Squaller quite so powerful as that. “Looks like you’ll get the chance to tell her sooner rather than later.”

Nikolai sits up interestedly. Seconds later, two women are standing in front of your cage door. The Squaller who had taken out the guards is unlocking the door, her sapphire kefta dotted slightly with ice crystals from the journey to the stronghold, but you can’t spare one glance at Zoya Nazyalensky, too interested in the the woman next to her, the one in the ruby kefta who’s beaming at you.

“Genya,” you croak out.

She smiles, flying into the cell the second Zoya gets the door open. She falls to her knees in front of you, hurriedly undoing your chains so she can take you into her arms the second the cuffs are off. You can feel the slow rush of blood and power returning to your veins, but that doesn’t feel half so good as being back with your wife.

“How did you find us?” You ask, cupping Genya’s face gently with your hands.

She smiles. “The scouts sent word as fast as we could. After that, we wasted no time saving you.”

“No, you didn’t,” Nikolai says. Zoya has let him out and they’re standing opposite each other, exchanging nervous and tentative glances. You know those sorts of looks, you’ve had your share of them with Genya.

You glance back at Genya, who’s smiling softly at the scene, and take her hand. “Let’s free the other guards,” you suggest quietly. “I think these two might want some time to talk.”

Genya nods, leading you back out into the hall. Once you’re free of the cell, you pull Genya in for a sweet kiss. “Thanks for the rescue,” you tell her.

She beams again. Alina Starkov may be the only known Sun Summoner, but you swear there’s pure sunlight in each one of Genya’s smiles. “Any time,” she says. “Just don’t make it a habit.”

“I’ll do my best,” you promise. It’s one oath you don’t mind swearing. Your favorite promise of all has already been made, but this one isn’t all that bad, either.

requested by @reinekes-fox, i hope you enjoy!

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