#as you can see the series is going strong

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc (2/4)

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a devastating crash, you’re left to face the hardest decisions of your life as charles fights for his.

୨ৎ : genre : emotional fiction, very... very... emotional ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1448

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say you never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have. But that doesn’t stop the crushing reality from setting in, from stealing the breath out of your lungs and leaving you with nothing but a pit in your stomach.

The adrenaline’s worn off now. The chaos of the crash—the sound of metal twisting, the screeching tires, the moment when everything went still—has settled into a steady, numbing dread. The pit in your stomach isn’t just from fear, it’s from the void where your thoughts should be. You don’t know what’s coming next. You’re not even sure if you’re prepared for it.

Charles isn’t here.

Charles isn’t in the room with you.

You glance at your phone again, eyes scanning for any update, any piece of news that tells you he’s okay. There’s nothing. Just the same cold silence. You dial his team again, and again, and again. But no one answers. His car was mangled—wrecked beyond recognition, but the worst part? The worst part is that no one can give you any real answers. No one can tell you if he’ll come back to you, or if that’s a question you should stop asking.

You feel like you're caught in a never-ending loop, the crash replaying over and over in your mind. Every time you hear his name on the news, every time you see another mention of the race, it stabs you like a fresh wound.

“Is there any word?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, though you’ve asked the question a hundred times already.

One of the nurses glances at you, but it’s not the answer you need. They’re all running on autopilot, no one daring to face the gravity of what’s happening.

A few hours later, you get the call. It’s brief, clinical, distant. They’re transferring him to the hospital for further tests, and you need to come now. You don’t even bother with a response. You just grab your coat, your purse, and run.

When you get to the hospital, you’re not prepared for what you’re about to see. You’ve spent all this time worrying about him, and now that you’re here, you don’t know how to be ready for the reality.

They rush you through sterile hallways, and the air feels thick, suffocating. The nurses are too quiet, too busy to offer reassurance. You don’t need their words. You need him.

The surgery’s been a blur. A series of technical terms, each more frightening than the last. Internal injuries. Organ failure. The adrenaline that was keeping him stable starts to wear off. Everything’s urgent, but no one tells you what’s going to happen. No one tells you that he might not make it through.

His mother arrives as you’re sitting in the waiting area, your fingers anxiously twisting the hem of your sleeve. She doesn’t need to say anything. You can see it in her eyes. She’s feeling the same crushing weight of uncertainty that you are. You stand, not knowing what to say, not knowing if there’s anything to say.

“How is he?” she asks, her voice cracking before the words are even out.

“They’re still working on him,” you answer, though you don’t know much. You don’t know anything. “They said it’s critical. I... I don’t know if he’s going to make it through.”

Her face falls, and she takes a deep breath. You want to say something, anything to reassure her, but you can’t. You don’t know what to believe anymore. The fear inside of you keeps growing, pressing against your ribs like a weight you can’t lift.

The door to the surgery room opens, and the doctor steps out. His face is pale, his expression tight.

“Is he...?” you ask, your voice trembling before the question even forms. You can’t bring yourself to finish it.

“He’s stable for now, but his condition is still critical,” the doctor explains. “We’re doing everything we can, but the next few hours are going to be crucial. The adrenaline kept his body from fully going into shock. It’s buying us time, but there’s a chance that time won’t be enough.”

You feel the ground slip away beneath you as his words sink in. “What does that mean? Is he going to be okay?”

“We’ll know more in a few hours, but we’re monitoring his organs. There’s significant internal damage.” He pauses, searching for something to say. Something comforting. “He’s a fighter. We’ll keep doing everything we can.”

You nod, though the words don’t mean anything to you. Fighters don’t always win. You know that. The only thing you can do is wait. But it feels like the waiting is the hardest part.

His mother looks at you, her eyes pleading, her lips trembling. “What do we do now?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You’re not prepared to make these decisions. You’re his wife, but you never thought you’d be here, making these life-or-death calls. This isn’t supposed to be your responsibility. You want to ask his mother what to do, but you can’t. She doesn’t have the answers. She’s just as lost as you are.

“I don’t know,” you whisper back, feeling the weight of it all settling on your shoulders.

She looks at you with a deep sadness in her eyes. “You’re his wife. It’s your decision now.”

Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. You’re supposed to know. You’re supposed to know what he’d want, what the right choice is. But you don’t. How can you possibly know what to do when everything feels so out of control?

You want to run, want to disappear, but you can’t. Charles is still fighting. He’s still here, and that’s all you have. You can’t walk away from that.

As the hours drag on, you’re taken to see him. The room is sterile, cold. It’s not the hospital room you imagined. It’s nothing like that. It’s a place of quiet chaos, where everything hangs in the balance.

Charles is unconscious, tubes and wires running everywhere. His skin is pale, his face bruised. The doctors said he was conscious for a moment, but he’s out again, too weak to keep his eyes open.

You sit by his side, taking his hand gently, trying to feel his warmth through the coldness of the hospital room. You whisper his name, but there’s no response.

“He’s in there,” you tell yourself. You have to believe that. You can’t let go. Not yet.

Minutes pass, and still, nothing. His pulse steady on the monitor, but that’s the only sign that he’s still here. The rest of it is just a waiting game. You’ve been here before, waiting for someone you love to wake up, to come back to you, but it’s never been like this.

It’s never been this uncertain, this terrifying.

Charles is still here, but you know that might not be the case for long. The waiting is unbearable. Every beep of the heart monitor is both a reminder that he’s still alive and a warning that it could change at any moment.

As the nurse enters to check on him, you hold his hand tighter, unwilling to let go, unwilling to believe that this could be it.

“How long?” you ask her, barely able to look at the machines, not sure you want to know.

“It’s hard to say,” she replies softly. “He’s stable, but his condition is still critical. If we don’t see improvement soon, we might need to make... more decisions.”

That word. Decisions. What decisions? You’re left with nothing but the silence, the uncertainty. The questions. The waiting.

As the hours stretch on, and the doctor makes his rounds again, you finally hear the words you’ve been dreading. “There’s no improvement. We might need to consider...” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but you hear what he means. The fear inside you rises, a growing lump in your throat. The worst-case scenario is beginning to feel more real with each passing second.

Everything is slipping away, and you don’t know how to hold on.

You sit in the chair, staring at Charles, your mind racing with fear and doubt. You want to hope, you want to pray, but it feels like hope is a fragile thing, easily crushed by the weight of reality. The fight’s not over yet, but you’re starting to wonder if it ever will be.

“I’m here,” you whisper again, to him, to yourself. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But somewhere deep inside, you know. You know that the decision you’re dreading might be just around the corner, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

taglist: @emryb , @htpssgavi , @aleatorio1234 , comment to be added

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[chlix]

baby, it's cold outside (no seriously it's crazy out there)

bf! chan x gn! reader: your car breaks down in a snowstorm and you have to walk home. chan is there to comfort you and warm you back up

pairing: chan x reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

word count: 4.1k

warnings/tags: snowstorms, car trouble, sickness, a long series of unfortunate events that leave the reader miserable for most of the fic

a/n: this is a request from @caticorn61 who wanted chan being apologetic for not answering his phone after reader's car broke down. this is perhaps more than what u asked for 😅 but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

You are on a historic run of bad days.

You've never considered yourself to be particularly unlucky, but this past week has had you rethinking that orientation. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. On Monday your alarm didn't go off, making you late for work. Even worse, there was a meeting you'd forgotten about, so you had to slide awkwardly into the back of the room and pretend you didn't feel everyone's annoyed gazes. Tuesday was grocery shopping day, but you found out they discontinued your favorite brand of chips, and raised the price of an alternative, so you were forced to go home chip-less. Then, when you tried to take the groceries out of the car, one of the bags split open and sent your eggs, cheese, and blueberries crashing to the ground, buried in slush and snow. A total waste. Wednesday you woke up to find your heating had shut off in the night, and you were now shaking fit to break apart. Although maintenance promptly fixed your radiator, you developed an itch in your throat that only grew throughout the day and had developed into a full-blown cough by the next morning.

Which is where you are now on a subzero Thursday morning, ill and irritated and crawling your way towards the end of the week.

Your boyfriend, Chan, talks to you on the phone in soothing tones.

"I'm sorry your week has been so rough, baby," he says, and you can hear the dripping sympathy through the phone. "I know how it feels when little things pile up like that."

"I just don't know if I can take it anymore," you tell him. "It's like I've been cursed. I'm afraid if I walk outside a piano will fall on me and crush me."

You're half-joking when you say that, but Chan can hear that the other half is vaguely on hysterical.

"I don't think anyone is moving pianos in this weather," he says very reasonably. "Just stay away from luxury apartments if you're worried."

You set your bag down and put your face in your hands, taking slow, deep breaths. Your phone is on speaker, and you can hear Chan hum, trying to comfort you even though he's in his own dorm across the city.

"It'll all be okay, Y/n. And I'll see you this weekend, yeah? I'll come over Friday night and you'll have me all to yourself. Just stay strong."

You exhale, long and loud. "You promise?"

"I promise. Be strong for me, babygirl."

You blink the dampness out of your eyes and straighten up. "Okay. I can do that."

"And drink some tea. Your voice sounds kind of rough."

"Don't get me started again, please."

By the time you hang up, you don't feel understood, but you do feel seen. You fill up a thermos with tea, put on your coat, and mentally prepare yourself to leave the apartment.

It's only two more days, you remind yourself. The weekend will fix me. It'll break this curse that's been placed upon me. You force yourself to have a positive outlook. You will not have another bad day. You will be strong.

All day, you force yourself to react to every potentially meltdown-inducing incident with grace and poise. You realize you forgot your lunch and have to eat cheap candy from the vending machine for lunch? That's totally fine. Your boss adds another item to your to list, forcing you to stay later to finish everything and close up? You really don't mind. Your best friend texts you that she's been stalking her ex on Instagram again and you won't believe it but he already has a new girlfriend, y/n, can you fucking believe it, we've only been broken up for like two weeks and he's buying her fucking jewelry, and you respond what an asshole. he has a new gf and he didn't block his ex? while your eye twitches.

By the time you finish all your tasks and close up, your face hurts from holding a smile you don't feel. You're the last one out, so you make sure the building is locked and make your way across the empty parking lot to your car. The forecast predicted snow tonight, and already the ground is littered with white. The flakes are fat and sticky- they're already building up on the undisturbed portions of pavement. You have to quickly brush off your windows and mirrors before you can get into your car, slamming the door behind you.

You made it. You survived. It was a godawful Thursday but you conquered it.

"One more day," you whisper to yourself. "Just one more day."

You lock the door and put the key in the ignition. The dashboard lights up and the engine turns.....and turns....and turns.....

A rock forms in your stomach.

"No," you say. "No no no no no." You twist the key again, but the engine whirs and whirs and whirs...and does not turn over. Your car does not start.

It's not news to you that your car is a piece of shit. You and Chan discuss this almost every night- what to do about this fuckass car. You've been resistant to letting him help you pay for a new one, partially because that's a lot of money and partly because you're sentimentally attached to the old rustbucket. You inherited it from a family member as a birthday gift, and so despite it being less than reliable you're hesitant to seek solutions. It's your first car, after all. It's a part of you now.

In this moment, however, you want to throw all that sentimentally down the drain along with the keys to this absolutely useless fucking rustbucket of a vehicle.

Not to worry, you tell yourself. I'll just call Chan to come get me. We can deal with my car in the morning.

You take out your phone and call him. The call rings out.

You stare at your phone, confused. It's not like him to ignore your calls, especially not at this hour. It's pitch black with winter but it's still arguably early in the night. Chan is likely to still be awake, but it's unlikely he's doing any kind of official task. And it's so late that he would know to answer; you would never call him for something frivolous at this time of night. You call again.

No answer.

Your patience is running thin now. You consider calling your best friend, but she's out of town visiting family. Your other friend, Seohyeon, doesn't have a car, and her boyfriend's car is currently being repaired. The bus you sometimes take is about a fifteen minute walk down the street, but it'll have stopped running this far out by now, so you'd have to walk to a further bus stop and then go to the transportation terminal and connect, which would take over an hour. You could walk to the subway, you think, but you lost your subway card weeks ago and never got around to replacing it, and honestly it just seems like a whole ordeal you can't bring yourself to stomach right now. Chills go down your spine, and you can't tell if it's from the cold or from the increasing precarity of your situation.

You try the engine again. No dice.

You call Chan again. Voicemail again.

You lean your head on the steering wheel and take long, deep breaths. Outside your window, the wind is picking up, making the snow fall at a diagonal instead of straight down. It would be terrible to walk in, especially because the direction you need to go to get home would cause the snow to blow right in your face. Your throat is killing you, but your thermos of tea is long since empty. Maybe you should just go back into the work building and hunker down for the night. Maybe you should sit in the car and turn into an icicle. Your head is a foggy mess, thoughts twisting all around. You're getting hysterical again. You can feel yourself cracking to pieces.

Think, y/n. Who else can you call?

You're all out of people you know personally, but you could call an Uber. It's pricey and arguably unsafe, and you normally wouldn't, but these are extenuating circumstances. It solves the problem of being stranded, and again, you can deal with your car at a later point. And at least when Chan finally calls you back, you'll be safe at home, so he won't have to feel guilty about missing your calls three times.

You lean back in your seat and open the Uber app. Thankfully you still have it installed, and it still has all your info in it from the last time you called someone to take you home. Just as you're about to finish the transaction, your phone freezes. The screen flashes, then goes dark. You press the power button once, then again, frantically.

Your phone is dead.

Immediately, you scramble for your console, searching for a power cable to connect the phone to the car battery. Your cable is gone. You remember, horrified, that you took the cable out of your car because the one in your living room at home had started fraying. You meant to replace it but you never did. You're normally pretty good at leaving the house in the morning with it mostly charged.

But it's nighttime now, and your battery is dead. You have no charging cables, which means you can't call an Uber. You can't call anybody. And you can't even go to the subway now because your debit card is on your phone, so you can't refill your subway card.

A terrible despair fills you.

You have to walk home in a snowstorm.

As soon as the thought materializes, tears start to well in your eyes. This is too much for you to take, would be too much for you even if you'd had a perfectly good day today. This isn't fait. How can this be happening to you? Why is the universe punishing you like this? And when is it going to stop? Again you wish you could just sit in your car and turn into an icicle, let someone else defrost you in the morning. You think having a piano fall on your head would be better than this.

Eventually you manage to get yourself to calm down. Sitting in this car freezing isn't gonna do you any good. It'll only get colder by the hour. You need to walk to the far bus stop and catch another bus before they actually stop running, and you really are stranded instead of just doomed to walk forty minutes in a blizzard.

As if there's a difference, you think bitterly as you put your useless phone into your bag and bundle everything up. You put your gloves back on, and your hat. You step out of your car, slamming the door behind you, and zip up your jacket. Of course, you hadn't thought to wear a scarf today, so your face will just have to freeze. After only 30 seconds you feel your lips cracking.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay okay okay okay."

You set off in the direction of the bus.

-/-

The journey is long and cold. It's not so much the temperature as the fact that you never have the chance to get used to it because it just keeps getting holder as the night wears on. It takes a ridiculously long time to walk to the bus stop, because you're fighting headwind every step of the way. You want to close your eyes against the snow, but if you do that you'll veer off course or fall into the road or trip on an ice slick and die, so you brave the stinging and push forward. Then you wait at the bus stop so long that your already sore feet start to scream with pain. Your phone is dead, so there's no way for you to track the bus, but you conclude you must have just missed the previous one as it takes a full thirty minutes for it to come again. By the time the bus pulls up in front of you, your feet are almost buried, and when you take your seat, every part of you squelches and slides as the snow melts, drenching your clothes.

The bus is at least warm, and so is the transport center, but the second bus drops you off another twenty-five minute walk from your apartment and you're forced to walk- you guessed it!- uphill. Your calves are screaming from the exertion, and from cold, and from keeping your balance as you trudge through the piling snow. You have a death grip on your keys- if they were to fall out somewhere between work and home you would simply lie down on the ground and let the snow bury you. It would be more than you could take. But your keys stay in your tightly clenched fists, and soon your apartment building becomes visible through the dark and haze. You want to cry tears of relief but your tear ducts are frozen shut.

By the time you traipse up the steps of your apartment, you feel more popsicle than person. You are so cold. Your hands shake so much it takes you a few tries to get the keys from your pocket and stick them in the lock. You step inside, sagging as the heat blasts you in the face. All you want to do is collapse into bed and curl under your blankets where the world can't see you, to get a little bit of sleep before your torture begins anew tomorrow. The thought of going to work on Friday strikes a physical pain in you. You've barely survived today, and yet tomorrow looms terrible just out of reach.

You go to turn on the lights only to realize that the lights are already on. Your heart skips a beat. Did someone break into your apartment? Should you turn around and flee? But you don't have a car, and you certainly aren't walking back to the bus stop. You have nowhere to go.

A figure turns the corner and you flinch back, hands half-raised in some pathetic attempt to defend yourself-

It's Chan. He turns the corner and it's your boyfriend, standing on your tile floor in sweats and a big sweater, eyes bright and twinkling with how excited he is to see you.

"Hey, sweetheart," Chan says. "You're finally back. I saw you called earlier and got worried something was wrong."

You burst into tears. You're crying before you even know it, violent sobs that shake you and make water droplets roll off your soaked hair. Salt burns your frozen tear ducts, and snow is slipping down your collar, but all these small discomforts are overshadowed by the pure and all-consuming relief that your boyfriend is here in the flesh, asking after you and taking care of you, and you can finally stop fighting to keep it together. You can rest.

Chan makes a sound of alarm and rushes forward to grab you as you start to list.

"Baby? Hey, hey, what's wrong? Christ, you look terrible. Are you sick?" He tries to put his hand against your forehead but pulls it away just as fast. "You're cold as ice, y/n."

"I w-walked home," you try to explain. Your tongue is thick in your mouth, and it's hard to get enough air to speak through your sobs. "Car broke down, phone died, b-bus was late."

"Fuck, sweetheart. I'm so fucking sorry. That sounds terrible."

His validation of your misery just makes you cry harder. Chan pulls you into a fierce hug and you bury your face in his shoulder and absolutely lose it. All the stress of the last week crashes down on you at once, your misery overwhelming you. You grab at his clothes with gloved hands, and there's about four layers of clothes between you, and it's not enough, you want to be closer. But at the same time you can't make yourself pull away from Chan's embrace. He whispers soothing words in your ear, rocks you back and forth, presses closed mouth kisses to any part of you he can reach. He doesn't shush you, or try to calm you down. He just lets you have the emotional release he knows you sorely need.

When your cries start to slow, he gives you one final squeeze to catch your attention, and whispers, "We need to get you out of these clothes, hmm? Does that sound okay?"

You swallow the last of your sobs and nod morosely.

"Okay then. Let's take your jacket off. It's soaking wet by now."

You step back from Chan, still holding on to his arm as you stumble and sway. You're so tired. Standing up for even a second longer is too big of an ask.

"Just lean on me. It's okay, I won't let you fall."

Together, you unfasten and take off your heavy winter coat, letting it fall to the floor with the slush you dragged in. Chan is the one who crouches down to untie your shoes, and you lean on him for support as you remove one foot, then the other.

"Good job," he praises, pressing a kiss to your snow-soaked hair. "Let's get you warmed up now."

He leads you to the bathroom and starts the water running in the tub. You listlessly undress, leaning on the counter for support when you need it. While the tub is filling, Chan tries to leave, but you catch him by the shoulder on his way past you, stopping him in his tracks.

"Stay?"

"Of course I'll stay," he says. "I just want to get you a change of clothes."

You hesitantly let go of him, and he flashes you a reassuring smile before he slips out. You sit down on the toilet and wait patiently for his return, watching the water fill the tub slowly and feeling your thoughts move sluggishly in your brain.

The sound of the water stopping jolts you back to the present. Chan is back, in a regular t-shirt this time, leaning over the bathtub to make sure the water is the right temperature. Deeming it good enough, he turns back to you and stretches out a hand to you.

As soon as you sit down in the warm water, you feel about ten times better. The warmth unties some of the tension that coils your muscles, and it quells the shivering that had started up as you were sitting on the toilet waiting to be told what to do. Chan urges you to slide down so you're almost submerged, making sure almost all your body is enveloped in warmth, and starts dumping warm water over your head, soaking your hair and washing out the remnants of grime and slush. He's quiet as he does it, humming a low tune, and you close your eyes and let him do as he wants. When he's done, he taps your shoulder, and you sit up, mourning the loss of warmth as your back and chest are exposed to the bathroom air.

"Do you mind?" he asks. You shake his head, uncaring of what he's referring to. You'd let him do anything to you in this state. It turns out "anything" means washing your back, so you again sit still and let him do as he pleases. The pressure of his hands and the sound of his voice, still humming, gradually soothe your mind and body. You stop shivering and tune back into your surroundings.

He's subtly watching your face, so he sees when you come back to yourself and drops his neutral expression. "Back with me?"

You nod. The floaty feelings from being cold and hysterical are gone, but that just means the exhaustion of your day is hitting you full force. You hold out your hand for the washcloth so you can clean the rest of yourself, and he hands it over, but doesn't move to leave, which you appreciate. Now that you're calmer, you think you might be a little more embarrassed asking him to stay.

"I know you said this morning you were cursed, but I didn't think you meant literally," he tries to joke.

You let out a long breath. "I didn't think I meant literally either."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You shrug as you rub the washcloth along your legs, wincing when you remove your still-freezing toes from the water. "What can I say? It was a shit day at work with a shit ending."

"You said your car broke down."

You squeeze your eyes shut. You are not in the mood for this argument. "It just wouldn't start. I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Y/n..." He doesn't say anything more. He knows as well as you do that you'll get nowhere. It's enough to set you off though, now that your exhaustion is making you irritatble.

"It wouldn't have mattered either way if you'd picked up the phone when I called you," you snap. It's unfair and you know it, but before you can begin to feel remorse, Chan's face turns to one of guilt.

"I know, I'm sorry. I still had it silenced from work and didn't realize. When I saw that you called me I tried to call back but the calls didn't go through."

"My phone died. That's why I didn't call an Uber."

Chan shakes his head. "I would call this comical if it wasn't so clearly stressing you out."

"You can still call it comical. Just not within earshot."

"Surely you think better of me than that."

"I do," you say, completely serious. "Sorry. I'm not mad you didn't answer. It's just been a shitty day."

Chan squeezes your shoulder in understanding. "It's alright. I get it."

"I'm really grateful you're here," you say, and you're getting choked up again, emotions all out of whack. "I've never been so happy to see anyone."

"You called three times. Since I couldn't get a hold of you, I hoped you'd still come home and we could talk here."

"You're too good to me."

"I'm exactly as good as you deserve." He leans down to kiss you, long and loving and warm, and the last of the chill in your bones slides away.

-/-

The next morning, Chan calls you in sick before you even wake up. He has to leave for the morning, but comes back around noon with ingredients to make you soup and tea, and rouses you for lunch with all the care and gentleness in the world.  He curls next to you in bed despite your protests that you'll get him sick, but then, it's not like you protest that hard. You're still feverish and needy, and maybe it's not the most ridiculous thing in the world to want to lie in your boyfriend's arms as you recover from what you're pretty sure is mild hypothermia mixed with the flu.

"We were gonna hang out this weekend," you say morosely. "Now I'm trapped in this bed and you're stuck taking care of me."

"Taking care of you is my favorite form of hanging out," he informs you, cleaning away the mug and bowl to bring back to the kitchen. "And hanging up the phone on your boss is my favorite passtime."

"You did not hang up on them," you gasp, hand over your mouth.

Chan shrugs, unbothered. "They seemed a little too annoyed about my request to not tow your car out of the parking lot. I made it very clear that it better be there when you get back on Monday or else."

"So selfless. You could've let them tow it and finally been victorious."

He turns from the kitchen and sits back down on the bed. "You like that car. I'm not going to keep insisting you get rid of it when it means so much to you. Even if I do blame it for the events of yesterday." You glare and he puts his hands up defensively. "If it's not my fault or your fault then I have to blame the car. Sorry not sorry."

"Blame the cursed spirit following me around," you say, sinking miserably into the blankets. "It possessed the engine of my car just to torment me."

"Even more reason to get rid of it."

You're feverish and tired, but the conversation makes you smile nonetheless. "Ask me again when my fever breaks if you still think I should keep it. Maybe it'll burn away the sentimental attachment."

"Don't get my hopes up."

You close your eyes as Chan kisses your forehead, and you slide easily into pleasant dreams.

[seriesxwriting]

Merry scroogemas

Paring- Rafe Cameron X kook reader

Series- Outer banks

Summary- You hate Christmas with everything in you but Rafe try’s to change that.

Warnings- Kissing.

Obviously- like usual my Christmas post is posted after Christmas…!

December the 1st

"How excited are you then?" Rafe came and sat down on my bed. I turned my phone off and rolled my head over to look at him. "It's December the first- it's about to be our first Christmas together- to be honest I thought you'd already have your tree up" he laughed but soon lost it once he saw my face. "What's wrong..." he asked me putting his hand out to pull me up. I sat up and shuffled closer to him, trying to figure out what to reply with.

"Rafe- I don't like Christmas" I told him avoiding eye contact at all costs. "Okay scrooge" he chuckled thinking I was joking. "it's my least favourite time of the year" I shrugged my shoulders looking up at him now, so he knew I was being serious. "You're being serious- nobody hates Christmas?" "I do..." I told him pulling back a little now. I know it was a very unpopular opinion- but it was my opinion.

"Come back" he wrapped an arm around my shoulders pulling me closer to him. "Can I ask why?" he whispered seeing that it was clearly effecting me. "That depends- if you wanna get deep or not" I shrugged my shoulders at my boyfriend. "Only with you my love" he nodded his head keenly and then laid a soft kiss on my forehead in comfort. "Well- my parents would often be so busy that Christmas was never a family thing, when I was little I went to a boarding school and- they never came and collected me on holidays" I began explaining.

Rafe never took his eye off me, he made it obvious he was taking note of everything I said. "When I reached upper school they took me out of my boarding school and sent me to our school- but nothing changed..." my eyes began to start filling up with salty tears. "They were always on long business trips over Christmas, and because i'm an only child I ended up being alone again- just in the house this time" I shrugged trying to shake off the tears. "Oh y/n" Rafe whispered closing his eyes.

'"Last year- my mum was at home for Christmas- dad had flown to Brazil for businness- I thought it was going to be different- but she didn't leave her office more than twice the whole day". "I'm so sorry- I had no idea..." he told me looking sad himself now. "No one does- no one knows- don't get me wrong my parents didn't do it because they don't love me- they just think that me having the material presents they get me is what Christmas is about, they didn't have presents when they were younger because they grew up on the cut" I replied to him.

"Have you ever spoken to them about it?" Rafe questioned but that just made me giggle. "Rafe suggesting communication? what have I turned you into" "I don't know- i'm shocked too to be honest" he joined in with my laughter. "But no- I haven't- money changed them they are very materialistic, their life is their work and nothing I say is going to change that". "I think I might need a strong drink after that, because you've just shattered my heart" "Oh Rafe" I sighed smiling.

"Ive grown very used to it" "You know you're making it worse don't you?" he swept his hand under my arms and pulled me against his body into a hug. "What's happening this year?" he whispered in my ear while holding me tight. "My dads already on a two month business trip and mum leaves on the 16th and comes back on new years" I told him, and then held my breath waiting for the sympathy about how pathetic it was to roll in.

"Then my house is your home from the 16th until new years" Rafe called out making me jerk away from him so I could see his expression. “No- Rafe I cannot impose like and especially not on Christmas” I shook my head vigorously. “Oh come on you’re not imposing y/n you’re family and family are supposed to be together on Christmas” he replied making his face go soft.

“Rafe- I don’t like Christmas- I’ll just bring the spirit down” I answered him sadly. “You light rooms up- you could never bring anything down”. I blushed under his gaze but still wasn’t sure. “I won’t enjoy the day knowing you’re home on your own” “but Rafe you don’t understand- I’m used to it it doesn’t effect me now- I like being on my own because I don’t like Christmas” I explained to him slowly so that he’d understand how serious I was.

“Will you think about it?” He turned his head and put it on his shoulder. “Yeah alright” I nodded giving him a weak smile. “Thank you” he whispered leaning in and kissing me gently. “I love you” rage murmured against my lips. “Not as much as I love you” I returned giving him a peck on the lips.

December the 3rd

“Hello handsome” I smiled as I opened the door. He stood there with a giant smile across his face as if he was plotting something. “Hello my love, you ready?” “Where are you taking me Rafe cameron?” I smirked stepping down onto my front door step to join him. Rafe embraced me and kissed my forehead. I loved how affectionate he’d been with me lately. It took him a while to come out of his shell but now he was always touching me.

“It’s a surprise, come on” he smiled taking my hand in his and leading me to his car. It was pretty dark now and Rafe had told me he had plans for us. But what possible plans could he have for us at 8pm on a Monday. He closed my door for me and then got into the drivers seat. As he began driving he asked me about my day and I asked him about his.

I hadn’t seen him since his offer to spend Christmas at his. We’d both been busy seeing friends and doing work. I enjoyed talking to him but I was also watching the road to see where he was taking us. But it seemed to be into town. Rafe parked in one of the car parks, it was rammed with people and cars. “I wonder why it’s so busy tonight?” I looked at him as we both climbed out the car.

“It’s a mystery” Rafe wiggled his eyebrows, I gave him a funny look wondering what he was up to. “Come here” he put his hand out and I clasped his one as we made our way into town. “It’s packed” I muttered looking around. “There’s top” I pointed through the mass of people. “Oh yeah” Rafe smiled seeing his friend, but he just squeezed my hand and we walked past the group of boys.

“Did you not wanna say hello?” I questioned confused for a second. “No my love, I’m here with you my attention is on you” he told me smiling down at me. “What’s the time?” Rafe asked me, distracting me from blushing. “Erm, twenty past eight” I told him looking at my watch. “Perfect, we made good timing”. “What time do we need to be there for?” “Starts at half eight” Rafe replied as we weaved through the crowds.

As we came to the main square a huge Christmas tree stood, it was unlit but there were loads of people crowed round it. “Rafe” I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow knowing what was going on now. “Yes gorgeous” he answered catching onto my tone. “Is today what I think it is?” I questioned as we came to a stop. “Depends what you think it is” he smirked knowing I knew what we were up to now.

“It’s the Christmas switch on huh”, Rafe chuckled nodding his head and pulling me close to his body. “Yes- I thought it might get you a little more spirited” “I see the Christmas lights every year Rafe, they’re always the same”. Rafe let out a little laugh again “well they might be a little different this year” “I can’t bet you fifty quid they won’t be” I sang back to him. Rafe put his arm round my shoulders and turned us towards the tree.

Soon everyone began counting down Rafe joined in with a huge grin on his face. I felt a wave of sadness that I didn’t feel the same excitement about the season. I felt like I was just brining him down. But my mind was distracted when the lights turned on. There was only one word for it. Gorgeous.

The lights reached all around the tree and the buildings, all different colours twinkling in the night. There were so many more this year, so many different shapes on the street lamps, snowflakes, Christmas puddings, Santa faces. The lights swirled round the drain pipes, and the guttering. I gazed around in amazement, the lights reflected in my eyes. I caught sight of Rafe, he wasn’t staring at the lights he was staring at me.

“How’d you know they were going to be different this year?” I laughed throwing my arms round his neck. “I may have pulled a few strings to make it a little more magical for you this year”. My eyes widened “Rafe Cameron” I shook my head in disbelief. “You know I’d do anything for you, I want you to experience a different Christmas this year” “does that mean you have some more tricks up your sleeve” I chuckled pushing up on my tip toes to get close to his face.

“Lots” he whispered giving me a small kiss. “Come on- I’ve lit up the whole town for you, let’s go walk down some streets” Rafe suggested putting his hand out for me to hold. I gave him a warm smile and grabbed onto his bicep as we began to walk round. I can’t believe he did this for me.

December the 7th

I knocked on Rafes door eyeing up the giant reef attached to the knocker. “Hello my love” he smiled opening the door for me and stepping backwards. “Hey handsome” I gave him a kiss as entered the house and began taking my shoes off. “I’ve told you you don’t need to knock anymore y/n, you’ve been around long enough to just come in- the house is yours” he told me pulling my coat off me gently and hanging it u for me.

“I know I know- but then i wouldn’t get my lovely greeting from you”. Rafe laughed at me shaking his head, “come on I set some stuff up for us” he said, I watched as an excitement flickered in his eyes. What christmasy task has he got for us to do now. I trailed behind rafe as we strode into the kitchen, ward was in there with rose and they both turned and smiled at me. “Hey y/n, how are you” Ward twinkle waving at me.

“Oh I’m okay thank you, how are yous” I smiled back leaning against the island. “Yeah not bad- just trying to organise Christmas as well as keep up with work” Ward rolled his eyes playfully. “We hear you might be joining us this year” rose joined in moving her eyes from me to Rafe. “Oh um…” “she’s still thinking about it” Rafe said for me, putting an arm round my waist. “Well, it would be lovely to have you here hunny, you’re always welcome” Rose nodded rubbing her husbands arm.

“Thank you- you don’t know what that means to me” I expressed watching them smile at each other. “We will leave you to it” ward nodded at the island table. I turned my head round seeing a huge box on the table. Rafe had taken everything out the box and opened the packaging. “Gingerbread house?” I looked at him shocked. “Yeah?” “I’ve never made one before” I blinked walking round to take a look at the box.

“Well I haven’t since I was a kid” rafe scratched the back of his head. “I guess it’s a little childish but it might be fun” “Rafe- I love it” I walked over rubbing his arm. “Thank you” I smiled getting excited now. “I just thought because you like doing your little craft stuff you might make a masterpiece” he joined me sitting down and we both got started picking up the pieces. The actual making of the gingerbread house I kinda sat back talking about what i’d been up to since I last saw him at the light switch on and let Rafe do the work. He seemed to know what he was doing.

But the decorating I was in charge of. We put icing all on the roof and the walls as well and sticking little treats on. Rafe had brought little sweets for us to use too, but we ended up eating half of them before they even made it onto the house. In the end it looked pretty good, we’d done a good job, I’d even go as far as saying it looked better than the boxes one. “Right, let’s take some pictures then we can make hot chocolate and eat it” Rafe rubbed his hands together.

“Mm- yeah sounds good” I nodded getting my phone out. “Smile handsome” I called out at him. We took some together and he took some of me, before Rafe went off to make us our drinks. I watched him smiling the whole time, wondering how I got so fucking lucky.

December the 15th

“Hello my love” I smiled at Rafe as I walked down the stairs, he was talking to my mum in the hall way. “Hello beautiful- you look lovely” he gazed up at me. “Thanks hun” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “What you two up to tonight?” My mum wondered putting her hands behind her back. “I have no clue, Rafe seems to like surprises this month” I giggled, his hand wrapped round my waist. “She’ll like it, but it’s a bit of a drive so we better get going” “okay darlings, well I’ll probably have left for the airport hotel by the time you get back” she told me.

“Well have a great trip mum” she walked closer to hug me goodbye. “Merry Christmas darling, all your presents are under the tree, you’ll love them this year” she rubbed my arms. “Yeah- thank you” I nodded taking a step back. “Yours will be waiting for you when you get back” I told her feeling Rafe’s arm squeezed round me again. “Oh y/n me and your father don’t want anything off you” she shook her head. “It’s just something little- but we better get going- I’ll see you on new years”.

“Yes- you two enjoy yourself, I’ll see you later Rafe” she waved him off and walked off upstairs. And we left as quick as possible. “Wow- I can’t believe she’s that blind to how it makes you feel” Rafe shook his head baffled at my mum’s behaviour. “Christmas just isn’t a big thing in my family Rafe- it’s okay, she thinks she’s doing the right thing she’s going to work and buying me everything I could ever want” I shrugged my shoulders.

“I suppose” he sighed turning on the car. The drive was quite a while away, we again just spoke about what we’d been up to since we last saw each other on the 7th. Christmas wasn’t far now, and because my mum left tomorrow I had a feeling Rafe was going to want an answer tonight at some point. We drove about an hour away from home, and I really couldn’t put my finger on what we were doing tonight. Rafe parked in another car park, there were lots of people in this one too.

“What are we up to then” “come on” Rafe laughed throwing his arm round my neck. “You don’t have to wait much longer. Rafe lead me through the edge of town to the main streets and before my eyes stood a huge Christmas market flowing all the way down the street. There were stalls everywhere, loud Christmas music coming from the speakers. The lights weren’t as pretty as the ones back home but the market stalls made it very cute. “I’ve never been to a Christmas market”.

“Well I’m honoured to take you to your first one” Rafe rubbed his thumb across my hand. “Anything that catches your eye, it’s yours” “Rafe- you don’t have to do that I have my own money” I told him as we began the walk into the town center. “I took you here so I could spoil you, so anything you want my love, it’s yours”. “Well- we should probably get a drink while we’re walking around” pointing at a stall with a large sign.

“I’ll get a hot chocolate- what do you fancy?” He asked me turning us toward the line. “I’ll have a mulled wine since it’s Christmas”. As soon as the words came out my mouth I frowned to myself. Why was I going along with Christmas traditions? Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad with the right people. “Of course gorgeous” Rafe answered me taking his wallet out, but I watched the smirk on his face, he looked proud of himself. He knew I was sliding over to his side.

Me and Rafe walked around all the stalls, trying things on, trying samples, buying things. Rafe got some every strong rum and he brought me a load of different trinkets. Jewellery, crochet animals, plants, little paintings, candela. We eventually had walked around and had brought everything we wanted, so we stopped off to get some food from one of the stalls and headed over to some benches to scran it.

“Rafe- I really enjoyed the Christmas markets” I smiled up at him holding my burger in my hands. “Correction- Rafe I really enjoyed spending your money”. I laughed nudging him “how dare you I offered to pay”, he joined in with the laughing. “You will never pay for anything while I’m around” he shook his head and stopped laughing. “So- have you thought anymore about my offer?”. I bit my lip staring at my food. “Okay Rafe- I’ll spend Christmas with you”. His eyes told me everything I needed to know.

He was so excited and that warmed my heart and soul. “You won’t regret it, you’ll have the best Christmas with us” he told me, practically bouncing in his seat. “I know handsome- thank you for everything you’ve done this month”, “well was i successful?- do you like Christmas a little more now?” Rafe slimmed his eyes at me. “Well- I’ve loved spending time with you and if that’s what Christmas is about then yes, you were successful” I nodded my head, it was impossible to stop my smile.

“I’ll take that”, Rafe leant in and softly kiss my cheek. “I love you Rafe- Merry Christmas”. His eyes widened in shock at my words but he still smiled. “I love you y/n, merry Christmas my love”.

Rafe Cameron masterlist

Outerbanks masterlist

All series masterlist

Masterlist of masterlists

[loverslantern]

Mirror- Dean Winchester x f! reader oneshot

Description: Reader doesn’t feel pretty so Dean tries to show her what he sees in the way he knows best: praise.

Warnings: It’s hot and heavy in here, inherently sexual but nothing happens, manhandling?, praise

Word count: 2k

Note: This is not only my first time writing something like this but also my first time writing something not related to The Hunter and The Witch series so please leave feedback!

  I catch my reflection on the screen of my laptop and groan. My face looks weird today. It’s just one of those days where I just couldn’t feel…pretty or nice or any other adjective. It shouldn’t matter now when I’m alone in my motel room and researching for the next hunt. There’s no one to impress in the desolate room other than the four beige walls and a creaky bed. 

  It shouldn’t matter. To be fair it shouldn’t matter in general when beauty is an objective concept, and yet it does. I do not know the psychology behind it, maybe it’s a biological thing as animals would choose the mate that’s more appealing or strong to have offspring that can survive. I shake my head, ridding myself of the thought. This would just spiral into a psychological analysis that would only make me think of it further rather than ignore it. 

  It’s an obsessive thing, isn’t it?

  Either way, I don’t like the way I look today. I couldn’t get my hair to look just right this morning and I tried so many up-do’s that my arms got sore. It still didn’t look right, so I left it down. 

  And my face just looks wrong. Maybe my eyes are too big or too small in proportion to the rest of my face. Or, maybe my jawline is too soft, perhaps I’m not rough enough. Perhaps I’m too rough. Somehow, every possible thing feels true. 

  I groan again, leaning my head back against the headboard of the bed, and squeeze my eyes shut as if it will get rid of it all. I’m meant to be focused on research. It was supposed to help. But stupid screens and their stupid reflections.

  The jingle of keys forces my eyes open, my eyes landing on my door as it clicks open. “Hey, sweetheart,” Dean greets, casually inviting himself in. 

  “Hi,” I breathe. I suppose the consequence of giving someone a spare key is that they will use said key. But, I’m not that bad of a thing considering it’s Dean who’s walking in. “I’m gonna head to a bar, you in?”

  “Eh,” I answer. “You go ahead. ‘Not feeling it tonight.”

  He eyes me for a moment, squinting just slightly. “Not even as an excuse to dress up and listen to music?” he pushes. “‘My treat.” Of course, his treat meant a fake card or money he got from hustling. But, god the way he smiles and holds his hands up as he tries to convince me is cuter than it should be. “Sorry, Dean,” I say despite the sight, “Just not feeling it.”

  His shoulders and smile drop, “Come on I’ll buy you as much (favorite drink) as you want.”

  “You can go without me you know?” I point out as he saunters over to the bed and plops himself down. “We both know you’re gonna be leaving with some random girl anyway.” 

  He rolls his eyes as he leans back on his elbows, his black shirt flexing against his muscles. He knows I’m right. “I thought Sam was the nerd,” he comments, ignoring what I said by lifting my laptop off my lap and discarding it in the empty space next to him. “Why don’t you wanna go out? ‘You feeling okay?” he asks and for a moment as his eyes scan my face, I can see the concern pass through them. 

  “Oh, I’m fine,” I insist, trying to be as convincing as possible. Yet, he sees right through me, giving me a pointed look. He’s hard to lie to. I break, shaking my head, “Fine. I just…I don’t feel pretty today so I don’t really wanna go out.”

  His eyebrows raise, his lips parting a bit as if that’s the last thing he expected me to say. “You?”

  My eyebrows furrow, head tilting in confusion, “….Yeah….” Who else?

  He studies my face again and I worry he’ll see what I’m seeing. He’ll see I’m not pretty. His features soften regardless. “Come with me,” he announces, gesturing a hand to follow as he gets up from the bed. I don’t listen, giving him a confused and cautious look. “Come on,” he insists, his voice firm. 

  I hold back my sigh as I stand from the bed. I almost didn’t want to know what he had in store. But, he doesn’t leave me with much choice but to turn back as he takes hold of my hand. His hand is big and warm as it envelopes mine, butterflies erupting in my gut at the simple touch.

  He leads me into the bathroom, his hand leaving mine to travel up my arms and to my shoulders, positioning me in front of the mirror. My hips press against the sink, his hands on my upper arms and his body close behind mine. He nearly looms over me with his tall stature, his head and eyes tilted a little down as he uses the mirror to meet my eyes. “Don’t look at me. Look at yourself,” he directs. But my eyes linger on him, on his pretty green eyes, sharp sculptured jaw, and his straight nose. His fingers tap against the skin of my upper arm, “Come on,” he encourages, his voice a little gravely. 

  I give in. He makes it so easy to give in. I pull my eyes from him and land on myself. A frown pulls on my lips as my eyes jump around my features, even my frown looks wrong. He squeezes my arms, gaining my attention back in the same second my gut lurches. “Uh-uh,” he hums. “Eyes back on you, baby.”

  Jesus. 

  Again, I force my eyes away and I can feel his burning gaze on me. “What do you see?” he asks. I scuff and roll my eyes, “Dean, I’m not—“

  His hands rub up and down my upper arms. “Just—what do you see?”

  I bite on my bottom lip. I look unamused. That’s what I’m seeing. I sigh, trying to humor him. “Myself,” I answer plainly.

  He tuts, “Not what I meant, sweetheart. What do you see that you don’t like?”

  Everything. That seems like an appropriate answer. But I can’t just say that and I don’t. I hardly want to share what I feel when it’s hard to put words to it. “How about this?” he says, his head dipping down to occupy the space by my neck, putting himself closer to my level than far above me. “I like your smile,” he admits, his voice so soft it’s like a rough whisper. “I like when you smile at me…” he squeezes my arms, “like I’m damn important.”

  “You ar—“

  “Uh-uh,” he hums again. “This is about you, baby.” 

  One of his hands drifts upwards, the muscles in his forearm flexing. The sight is nearly intoxicating as I watch it move in the mirror, resting at the base of my neck as he stands to his height again. His thumb brushes back and forth against my collarbone, his eyes downturned to his movements. “Keep watching yourself,” he reminds me. I hadn’t realized I was watching him but could you blame me?

  He presses me back against him, his body solid and warm. I wonder if he can feel the increase in my heart rate. “And your skin…always so smooth. Hardly any scars.” He presses down on the base of my neck, encouraging my head to lean back against his chest. My breath hitches.

  “Shows how careful you are, yeah?” I can almost feel his warm breath as clearly as I can feel my heart beating against my ribs. “You a careful girl?” His gaze is burning as it travels down me. “Yeah…” he drawls, eyes traveling back up. “You are.” His thumb taps once against my collarbone, reminding me to keep my eyes on myself which seems like an impossible feat now. “There you go,” he praises, his voice low. 

My skin feels warm. My everything feels warm as if I am a furnace with the sole purpose of burning and he stokes the fire, poking at it, adding wood to keep it going. 

“Those eyes,” he mumbles, and I can feel the rumble in his chest as the words protrude from his lips. “‘Damn pretty eyes. Then you give me that look…fuck.”

  My eyes flick to his, something burning deep within my gut. He doesn’t scorn me for looking away from myself. “Yeah…” he whispers, eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “That look right there. Eyes all big, your lips parted just a little.” His hand drifts up from my neck, gracing my jaw. His thumb presses on my bottom lip. “So pretty…” he mumbles. “‘Don’t know what you aren’t seeing. Can you look at yourself again baby?” 

  I do as told and my knees feel wobbly with the heat that pools within. It’s the sight of him rather than me. The sight of him practically playing with me. “Want you to know how pretty you are,” he mumbles. “How good you are. God, you’re so good.”

  His thumb is a little wet as it slips from my lip onto my chin and my neck. His lidded eyes watch the slight mess he makes, his breath a little shallower. He hums, his chest rumbling with it. “Do you know what I think?” he asks.

  “What?” I answer the single word sounding like a sigh. My eyes drop to my lips in the mirror, my bottom lip coated in a thin layer of my own saliva like a coat of lip gloss. My breasts press against my tank top, seemingly wanting to spill over with each shallow breath. The soft swells of skin peeking from the neckline. His hands drop to my hips, pushing me forward until they’re pressing into the sink with a force that knocks me forward a little, a gasp escaping my lips. I grip the sides of the sink to catch myself. His fingers press into my hips as he holds me firmly. His body looms over me as his eyes take in my bent-over form. Those stunning green eyes that usually resemble the greenery of a forest when the sun is shining through the canopy of leaves just right, now a darkened green like the parts of the forest the sun can’t reach. 

  His hands massage my hips roughly, pushing them forward before drawing them back. His eyes are downturned to the movement, his mouth parted a little in the same manner mine is. My breath is quicker, and my heart is pounding in my chest like it’s trying to escape the space behind my ribs. “What’d I say about keeping your eyes on yourself?” He says roughly despite his own distraction. I swallow roughly, forcing my eyes back on myself for the umpteenth time.   

  He continues his actions, eyes burning into my hips and my ass like nothing else matters. “I think…” he starts, circling back to answer the question he asked me before, one I forgot about. “I think it should be sinful,” the word is like a purr coming from his lips, “to look this good. To be so fucking pretty.” It should be ironic coming from him but why would he go through all this trouble, all this guiding, pushing, pressing to convince me of something he didn’t believe in? And I can see it. I can see it, through the fog of a bad day, exactly what he’s seeing, or at least part of it. 

  “Are you seeing it?” he asks in a low voice as if he saw the change in my eyes. “Yeah,” I breathe, nodding, “Yes, I see it.”

  “Good,” he answers firmly, and yet I can hear the cocky smile that no doubt threatens his lips. Then, his hand circles around the back of my neck, tangling into my hair. He squeezes just once before he’s guiding me up, straightening me out ‘till I’m standing straight again. I spin in his hold, his large hands immediately going to my hips to keep me pressed into the sink. His eyes meet mine, something written in his irises that I can’t decipher. Then, they drop to my lips and then to my chest, that cocky smile finally making its appearance as his eyes drag back up to my lips. “Where’d you learn that?” I ask.

  His smile widens as he answers, “You don’t wanna know.”

[galacticlarry]

🌟2024 FIC RECS🌟

Here's a list of fics I read in loved in 2024. I read 208 fics this year, and, although I really struggle with choosing favourites, these are a few of them. I tried to limit it to one fic (or series) per author to avoid this list being the same people over and over.

🌟 Nest To You by Neondiamond / @neondiamond (T, 14.9k)

Everybody knows it’s in an Omega’s nature to nest, and Harry is no different. From the very first nest he builds to comfort himself when feeling homesick to the nest he one day brings his new pups home to, his Alpha Louis is there to witness it all.

Or: Ten different nests Harry builds throughout his relationship with Louis.

This one was adorable. Truly one of the cutest fics I've read.

🌟 Heels Over Head by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (E, 3.4k)

Louis Tomlinson returns from tour to find that his new next door neighbor doesn't realize his backyard is not completely private.

This one was so funny and I kept giggling the entire time I was reading it.

🌟 Just Another Card Again by tippitytap / @tippitytap (G, 3.7k)

Dear reader,

this is a story of Harry and Louis falling in love through greeting cards and being neighbours.

With love,

Clifford

This one is so so so cute! I love the concept, and the links to all of the cards they used is such a perfect detail. I am absolutely obsessed!

🌟 When the idea of someone is often wrong, write fanfiction to fix-it by INnenaHeart / @thechavier (M, 2.2k)

"Haz? Are you… are you writing porn?"

Harry typed for a while longer, and when he put the last comma, he raised his head and looked Louis in the eyes, as serious as Louis had ever seen him.

"No Lou, I'm writing August Moon fanfiction."

"Which is basically porn."

"No, it's f-a-n-f-i-c-t-i-on."

"You say fanfiction babe, and all I hear is p-o-r-n."

Harry sighed.

"Yeah, ok, it's porn. It got plot though… and feelings!"

or Harry can't do much about movies being made about him or the idea people have of him, so he writes fanfictions in his spare time.

This one is really funny and surprisingly sweet.

🌟 Larry Holiday Series by Specksofgold (E, 13.8k)

A collection of five fics, all taking place during different holidays.

This was such a cool concept and I admire the dedication to the theme. I also loved getting to see their relationship evolve as time passed.

🌟 Hiding Green Smiles by HoldingOnToChaos / @holdingontochaos (E, 45k)

Louis’ heart is racing in his chest. The idea of temporary bonding—letting Harry bite down right on that spot without it being a real bond—makes his mouth go dry. He didn’t even know something like this existed! His mind fills with all the possibilities and questions. What’s it going to feel like? How will it affect his orgasms? How will it affect Harry’s knot? What parts of a bond does it simulate?

When Louis goes with Liam to a hidden sex shop, he discovers a new sex toy, the BiteMat, and he can't believe his luck. He loves being bitten, has a biting kink, even, and now he can be bitten over his bonding spot without the fear of anything permanent.

He hastily buys it to try with Harry, his friend and roommate, and his regular heat/rut partner for the last eighteen months. They've been friends-with-benefits outside heat or rut for eight months now, and Louis' been desperately in love with Harry for at least five of those months.

--

Or the BiteMat fic

Everything Lora has posted this year has been absolutely phenomenal and choosing one was REALLY difficult, but I ended up going with this one, because it was the first one I read and I'm kind of attached to it. I love how cute and caring they are, but MY GOD are they stupid! I could genuinely talk about this fic for hours (I'm sure I have) but I have to keep this somewhat short. And, again, the urge to include all of Lora's fics in this list is strong, but I shall resist it (go read them anyway).

🌟 I’ll tell you something (I hope you’ll understand) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (E, 2.7k)

Louis insists that Harry stay off her phone and in the safety of Louis' room rather than risk moping in her own, texting her ex-boyfriend. When Harry agrees on one condition, Louis' safe night in could become something else entirely.

This one is so good, and cute, and sweet, and I just love it! I'm a sucker for a bit of yearning.

🌟 the "Falling" series by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (T, 4k)

A collection of two fics taking place after Harry and Louis break up.

These are painful and beautiful and everything in between and I love them a lot.

🌟 The Coach Tommo Universe by enchantedlandcoffee / @enchantedlandcoffee (E, 9k)

A collection of seven fics where Harry is a single parent to his twin girls Megsie and Becky, and Louis is the little league coach of the team Becky plays for.

These are so so sweet. I love their dynamic and their cute little family.

🌟 Colorful Hearts by Larrysmomfics / @larrysmomfics (M, 20k)

In a world where orgasmic emissions change color depending on the person’s mood, Louis Tomlinson’s semen has only ever been blue. At the recommendation of his doctor he attends a support group for people with similar conditions. The leader of Colorful Hearts, a therapist named Harry, is positively swoonworthy and sets Louis at ease right away. Needless to say that Louis isn’t aware yet that so much more than the color of his spunk is about to change.

OR

The Rainbow jizz fic, a mood ring orgasms AU

This one is so incredibly silly (which I'm sure anyone could guess from the summary alone), but it's also so soft and sweet and I just love it a lot!

🌟 put a little love on me by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry (E, 29k)

Two people who are always taking care of someone else’s needs while ignoring their own, just happen to cross paths.

Such a sweet fic!

🌟 Not the Desperate Type by lululawrence / @lululawrence (NR, 6.3k)

“First of all, I’d like to tell you how disturbing it is that you’re this familiar with your neighbor’s sex life,” Liam said, amusement lacing his tone.

“Fuck off,” Louis said, laughing.

“Second, that is really very sad. How bad is the stomping? Are you sure your neighbor doesn’t like it fast like that?”

“With the amount of cleaning the guy does, I think he’s taking out his sexual frustration on the cleanliness of his apartment. I can’t imagine the guy makes enough mess to require daily vacuuming.”

It sounded like the guy was actually moving furniture above him as he was sweeping now. Damn. Did Louis miss the seven minutes in heaven or was the guy angry because he didn’t even get that much pleasure today?

“I’m kinda afraid with the amount of noise he produces while cleaning that one day I’m gonna look up through my ceiling and be able to see him.”

“Tell him we wish him a better sex life and that we’re rooting for him if you do.”

Or the one where Louis' neighbor has a series of unfortunately short sexual experiences and Louis can hear every. Single. One.

This one was so silly and funny. I loved it!

🌟 Eyes so blue, Shorts so red by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense (G, 2.6k)

Harry isn't like any roommate Louis has had before. For one, he doesn't know what a poem is (or skee-ball, for that matter), but luckily for him, Louis doesn't mind answering any and all of his questions.

*

Or Alien Harry discovers poetry.

Such a lovely fic! They're just so so so cute!

🌟 speak now or forever hold your peace by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze (E, 23k)

“So, Louis is getting married.”

Zayn just blinked at him and gave a single nod in response to Harry’s sudden topic change.

“That’s all?” Harry asked. “That’s all you’ve got to say about it? Louis is getting married and all you do is nod your head?”

“What do you want me to say?” Zayn burst out laughing. “I didn’t realize that Louis was someone we still talked about.”

“He’s not,” Harry said firmly. “But right now --.” Harry let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Louis is getting married, okay? And he sent everyone an invitation -- he let everyone know -- but me.”

or the one where Harry crashes Louis’ wedding. (A Love, Rosie AU)

This one was frustrating but also very cute and funny. I really enjoyed it!

🌟 The Moon Cradles All by galastyles / @disneydimples (G, 7.1k)

When Louis was a child, his mother told him about Christmas Fairies, magical beings that would assist the Christmas efforts in the North Pole by watching every child and helping to make the final decision to whether they would be on the Nice or Naughty list. When he had a daughter of his own, he told her the same tale. At least, he always thought it was a tale.

This one is so cute and wholesome and I'm absolutely obsessed with it!

🌟 A Frail Farewell by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (M, 44k)

Louis can’t believe his luck when he is offered one of the easiest jobs he has had as a long-term house-sitter for the wealthy. He loves the money, and the peace and quiet of the empty mansions he looks after. Most of all he likes that there are no surprises until he gets the shock of his life from ex-pop star Harry Styles who isn’t supposed to be home.

I read this as a wip and I was always looking forward to those updates. They're just so sweet and gentle with each other and I loved every second of reading this!

🌟 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo (E, 79k)

“Louis, what do you have to say about how last week ended?” the reporter asks.

There’s a moment of silence. Harry is looking at the reporter, but eventually gives in and looks down the table at Louis.

He’s looking straight ahead, as if Harry isn’t even in the room.

“If you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen.”

Harry leans forwards, placing his arms on the table and leaning onto them to get as close to his microphone as he can while looking at Louis.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Louis turns to him, his icy blue eyes meeting Harry's. “Driving is your fuckin’ job, act like it.”

In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.

aka the one where Louis and Harry are childhood friends to enemies to lovers over the course of 15 ish years.

This one was so captivating from beginning to end, I genuinely couldn't put it down. It also managed to make me have any kind of interest in sports, so that has to count for something, right?

🌟 Cabin on the Bluff by juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (E, 6.7k)

A collection of three fics depicting different moments in Harry and Louis' summer romance.

These are so so so good! There's just something about getting tiny glimpses of this universe that makes it so intriguing and I want to know more.

🌟 All You Want's Under Your Nose by Wishingforloushair / @wishingforloushair (E, 3.5k)

Louis decides to treat himself to a new sex toy, but is perplexed when he sees a man in the shop placing each vibrator against the tip of his nose and sneezing. Curiosity gets the better of him, and it turns out the man, Harry, is a sex-god who knows far too much about sex toys and promises Louis that if a vibrator makes him sneeze it will definitely make him come. Of course there's only one way to find out for sure…

“Oh,” the man furrowed his brow. “It’s to test whether or not the vibrations will get me off.”

Louis stared at him. “That’s not a thing, is it?”

“Oh, yeah,” the man nodded, emphatically. “The nerves responsible for making you sneeze are the same ones responsible for making you orgasm. So when you’re buying sex toys it's always a good idea to test it to see if it will make you sneeze. Or your girlfriend. Whoever you’re using the toy on.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Louis found himself saying.

The man’s eyebrows raised for a split second. “Me either. I’m Harry,” he said, holding his hand out for Louis to take.

“Louis,” he said, taking it firmly. “I don’t think that’s real though.”

This one is really funny and the smut is great too. Loved it!

🌟 Someone You Couldn’t Lose by InsightfulInsomniac / @insightfulinsomniac (E, 19.2k)

For the past three years of university, Harry worked hard to push his romantic feelings for his best friend aside. Now that they’re in their final year of uni, his omega has other plans that slip through the hairpin cracks in his restraint.

Thankfully, Louis readily indulges his incessant and rather out of control nesting behavior. While their closeness doesn’t help Harry with his unrequited feelings, he at least knows that he’s not revealing his deepest secret to the alpha unintentionally. Louis’ genetic lack of a sense of smell allows Harry’s feelings to fly under the radar.

For now.

A uni AU where nesting behavior and a little body oil sparks a much-too-affectionate friends with benefits relationship that has some very unexpected outcomes.

This one was truly adorable.

🌟 everything of mine is yours by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (E, 33k)

"Did you two have a good time?”

Harry in his bathroom, brushing his teeth with frizzy hair and tired eyes. Harry on the couch cuddled up with Posy, cradling her in the crook of his elbow, humming a soft song. Harry laughing with his friends in a pub on a Friday night, a flower field in his eyes. Harry in his bed tucked under the covers, naked against fresh sheets like a shock of moonlight cutting through a storm.

“Yeah,” he says. “We did.”

or: With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.

This one was heartbreaking and painful and so so so beautiful! I loved every second of it and never wanted it to end.

🌟 Scarred by allwaswell16 / @allwaswell16 (E, 23k)

As a male omega, Louis has learned to live with disappointment and rejection, but he dreams of the day he finds his soulmate. When Harry inadvertently rejects him as his soulmate, Harry has no idea he's doomed Louis to a slow, painful death.

Pride doesn't keep Louis from telling Harry the truth. But love does.

This one broke my heart and then put it back together. The angst, their relationship, the friendship between all of them, just all of it really. Truly an amazing read!

🌟 we could be enough by HelloLovers13 / @hellolovers13 (M, 5k)

“You know I am flirting with you, right?”

Louis freezes mid-bite. Just manages not to choke on his steak.

Harry laughs a bit too loudly, almost like he’s nervous. “Yeah, should’ve known you weren’t the observant kind. You think I get this dressed up for a random dinner with a mate on a Tuesday night?”

or

Louis never imagined anyone could love him for who he truly is.

Then he meets Harry.

I can't get over how sweet this one is. I love that Harry is so supportive and so willing to make Louis feel comfortable and accepted. Truly, a beautiful story.

🌟 It's Not That I Don't Want You by parmahamlarrie / @parmahamlarrie (E, 12.5k)

It begins with a benign comment during a night in watching a show with his lovely boyfriend, Louis, and leads Harry to a months long journey to understand himself better. Will Harry figure out what makes him feel so different from everyone else? And will he find the courage to tell his boyfriend?

Or a character study into Ace Harry with the most supportive boyfriend, Louis.

This one was so emotional and sweet. I loved Louis' willingness to understand Harry and support him the best he can.

🌟 So perfect for me by reallynotmemoi / @reallynotmemoi (NR, 580)

Louis surprises Harry by giving him flowers.

This one was short and sweet. I loved it!

🌟 Just a taste of your lips by grapejuice_babe (E, 13.3k)

"I'm a firm believer in love at first sight, babe. You didn't have to walk by five times."

"Oh, hush."

"I'm going to politely request for you to make me."

-

Or, the five times Louis knew Harry was his soulmate and the one time it was confirmed.

Such a wonderfully written, sweet and funny fic. I couldn't stop smiling. Rest in peace, Addy.

🌟 Always Come Back To You by whoknows / @crazyupsetter (E, 28k)

“I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”

Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones.

Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.

Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.

Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.

“You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”

This one was very cute and at times quite silly. They're both complete and total idiots, but I love them, even though I want to yell at them just a little bit.

🌟 When I Think About You by phdmama / @phdmama (E, 4.6k)

Harry is beautiful, inexperienced, and curious. Louis is smart, seasoned, and comfortable in her own body. When Harry has questions, just maybe, Louis has the answers she’s looking for.

And… they’re roommates.

This one is so soft and sweet, and the little "twist" towards the end is everything to me.

🌟 Blue Nights by SilverStuff50 / @silverstuff50 (E, 55k)

Louis does what he needs to do to make ends meet, and if that means showing his body to make money, so be it, he'll use the gifts he's been given to keep him and his dad safe.

When a mysterious benefactor starts to make demands on him, Louis has to question whether its the money or the man he's most tempted by.

This one was so so so good! I'm truly obsessed with how perfect they are for each other and how much they care about each other. Such a well written fic!

🌟 Suddenly They're Right by sapphichug (E, 22k)

Helene smiled, the wrinkles by her eyes and mouth flattering her face. “That sounds lovely. And you didn’t even fool around? Isn’t that the whole point of spending the night with a friend with benefits?”

“We’re not that, we’re just…we’re just friends.”

“Who sleep together. Literally and figuratively.”

“Yes.”

“How is that not being friends with benefits?”

Louis huffed. “Keep your voice down, please. I do have a class going on, if you didn’t notice. And I don’t know, but that sounds so…immature and sleazy, and that’s not what we have.”

Helene leaned closer and aggressively whispered at him, “Because you also have romance and meaningful feelings for each other and everything a real relationship has, sans the label.”

✶ ✶

Louis is a painting professor with an art block the size of Texas and a global superstar for a non-boyfriend, who he wants to keep.

a fic about feeling stuck and learning to free oneself

This one was so moving and so emotional. I wish I could come up with something that would be good enough to describe it, but I'm not very good with these things. I'll just say that I almost cried reading the comments on this fic, because all of them were so beautiful and I'm so glad that this beautiful story received so many beautiful comments.

🌟 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf (E, 17.9k)

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

This was painful but so incredibly sweet, my face started to hurt form how much I was smiling.

and a bit of sameless self-promo for good measure

🌟 Enough To Wish For More by galactic_larry (M, 33k)

Louis Tomlinson just wants a few days of peace and quiet while his family are out of state. But when he meets the lead singer of a band he’s never heard of, his life and everything he thought he knew about it changes forever.

Harry Styles just wants to get his new guitar and then he’s leaving Haverhill, Massachusetts as fast as he can. But when he gets lost and asks someone for directions, he finds a lot more than the street he was initially looking for.

A long, complicated, painful, fucked up story about love.

Choosing one of my babies was difficult, but it had to be done since I did it for everyone else. This is genuinely the best thing I have ever written, probably the best thing I'll ever write too, and I'm immensely proud of it.

[writergeekrhw]

There's a Reddit screenshot going around (including here on Tumblr, Wil Wheaton reblogged a post about it) where a Trump supporter got whiny that at the Vegas convention this year, a couple of the Voyager actors were asked about their political beliefs by a fan, and they answered by praising Kamala Harris and condemning Trump and Trump supporters. This person on Reddit (not the same person who asked the politics question at the con) was upset because they felt they and their friends "learned that 7 of 9 hates them" and they were roundly made fun of for expecting that a Star Trek convention wouldn't contain anything that contradicts their MAGA beliefs given that, you know, it's such a progressive show where the future is LITERALLY luxury space communism, and where it has always spoken in favor of diversity.

This led to a bigger discussion about the place of politics in fandom spaces. I personally would understand not talking about electoral politics if we were in a normal election, like Obama vs. Romney, even though the Republicans even then advocated a lot of things that I think is at odds with what Star Trek says. But I don't think people who voted for them were necessarily hateful. I don't think they are people I can't share fandom with, you know? We can be friends. But I think with Trump people are hateful, or at the very least they're okay with hate, given how often he spews it and encourages it in his supporters. I'm a lesbian and I absolutely do feel less safe around people who wear MAGA hats in a way I just didn't around Romney or McCain or Bush supporters. My opinion personally is that it's probably a mistake and what got us to where we are today (sending this in late September 2024, where Harris is slightly up in the polls but it's still very close and Republicans are trying to ratfuck the vote in a bunch of swing states - maybe by the time you answer, the election will be over and we'll know?) that we didn't do enough to recognize that Trump support is either bigotry, or support for bigotry, in a way that should be socially unacceptable and treated as such. That we should have deployed more social shaming over it, especially in places that should be understood to be safe spaces for diverse groups of people, like the fandom of a series like Star Trek.

I was wondering what you thought about this topic. Personally, while I don't think American electoral politics need to be in every aspect of a convention, finding out that actors who played characters I like, writers who wrote shows I love, etc. are supportive of my basic civil rights, not just in broad platitudes but also in how they vote, is really heartening and makes me feel more "welcomed" in fandom. It makes me feel safer there. And the fact that Trump supporters feel excluded also makes it a safer space IMO, because I don't feel safe around those people. I have Republican friends - but none of them who have voted for Trump.

I commented on that while I was still on Xitter. I honestly worry Trump may pose an existential threat to our democracy. I think others feel similarly. I suspect Jeri Ryan, who's seen the rot inside the GOP firsthand, has particularly strong feelings about that as well. So it's no surprise she chose to speak out before the election. And it's certainly her right.

I think it's a bit silly for fans of a franchise that has a strong progressive POV to feel alienated when the artists involved in said franchise embrace its philosophy and choose to take a stand for it.

I worry for us all over the next four years, but the voters have spoken. We'll see how it goes.

[negrowhat]

Favorite QL Characters 2024

tagged by @bengiyo to share my faves for 2024!

Kim from Pit Babe. PB ended in 2024 so it counts! I love him to bits and pieces and it's no secret about it. Kim just wanted to race the best in the game and win fair and square. He didn't ask to get tied up in whatever tf Daddy Tony had going on and he wasn't about to put up with it. I love that he was all cute and smol but what kicking ass left and right. I wanted him to beat Winner's ass everytime he saw him and he practically did. I was so glad to see him being adopted into the X-Hunter family where he belongs. I would do everything for him.

Tharn from The Sign. I adore him. I love how much he loved despite being afraid to love. I loved watching him rescue Phaya countless times. I loved watching him kick ass. I love that he wore his heart on his sleeve and I understand why Phaya and Dr. Cocomelon fought over him for lifetimes. Also was he NOT the most stunning Goddess? And was he NOT the prettiest crier????

Cha Yeowoon and Tae Myungha from Love for Love's Sake. They're 2 sides of the same coin. A package deal. I can't choose one over the other. I love them both and they both need love and hugs. I love that Myungha made it his entire new life's mission to take protect Yeowoon. And I love that Yeowoon wanted to do anything and everything to take care of Myungha. Also Yeowoon was the cutest and sweetest and I do love the way Myungha doted on him.

Yoryak from Wandee Goodday. He was my fave green flag of the year. Such a sweet and understanding guy who wanted to make everyone happy. I felt like he deserved better throughout the series tbh. He was incredibly caring and understood boundaries and wasn't afraid to kick a lil ass to get his results.

Tai from Two Worlds. What a fucking badass. Clearly I just have a thing for the protector type. He was strong, intelligent, and resourceful. He would do anything to protect his people and it was insanely strong of him to go against his abusive sperm donor to save Kram. I love that he was soft for this one single person and to everyone else he was a roughneck. I also think he needed to be showered in love. I think this is my fave Max role, he does action well and I hope he gets a chance to do more.

Lee Jaejun from City Boy_Log. He's such a fucking mess and this year he was at his peak, choosing real hard between his sweet boyfriend Jihan and that homewrecking Yunje. He was doing too much. But what can I say? He's pretty and I love watching him interact with his boyfriend, they're sweet together. I did like Jaejun a lot in the newest installment tho. As long as Jaejun (and Jihan) are there then I'm going to watch this lil web series. Also Jaejun is so, so pretty.

JJ from Love No Long Beans. Oh gawd he owned the only braincell in the series and he used it all the time. Love that he was constantly there for his bestie even when it meant he had to deal with Methas. Speaking of Methas, I love that he humbled that man every chance he got. He made Methas think but he also showed him love and attention he didn't receive. JJ wasn't afraid to tell people off and then bounce. I love that he didn't compromise his morals and he stood up for himself and would throw hands for his foolish best friend.

Vee from Century of Love. He's my most goodest sweetest golden boy. I love him and his vibrant personality. He still managed to keep his smile despite his terrible life experiences: dying family, opportunities being taken away, and homelessness. I love that he wasn't a damsel in distress and I love that he did not bend to anyone's will.

Zongzheng Huai'en from Meet You At the Blossom. My favorite red flag toxic prince. He's my fave unhinged boy. Love that he was such a hypocrite in the beginning and got mad at Xiaobao for doing things he was doing. I love that he was jealous enough to chop off someone's hand. Love that he threatened to lock Xiaobao up if they couldn't be together. I love that he was so desperate to be with the one he loved that he risked his everything to save him. And I love by the end of it he became such a sweet and loving wife to Xiaobao.

Go Young from Love in the Big City. What an amazing character. He was so messy and he dealt with struggles that were important to the community. It was a treat to see him fumbling through life. He was definitely the most relatable character I've seen all year. I felt everything he felt; the joy, the pain, the heartbreak, and everything in between. I wanted him to find his true love, and maybe he did, but that wasn't the point of his story.

Sian from Every You, Every Me. IDK why I loved him. Yes I do, he was very forward with his emotions. He knew that he liked and wanted Blue and wasted no time in letting him know. Love that he was so sex positive and I love that he was quite open with Blue and talked to him about his feelings. Also he was stunning.

Hope from Jack & Joker. I just love that he was unapologetic about enjoying kicking ass. He was very transparent about what he cared about and that was Save and kicking ass. I loved every scene he was in and even when he was getting his ass handed to him he was cool as fuck about it.

[red-doll-face]

Snow Angel 9

Chapter 9: marauding Series Masterlist

low - medium honor Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur has been living by himself, laying low (for real this time) somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. After the whole Pinkerton and Micah debacle, he has been hiding away, waiting for it all to blow over, occasionally getting letters from the people who still know that he’s alive. He’s been alone awhile and at first, he thought he could handle a little loneliness. He has been wrong before. Lucky for him, you look like the perfect thing to break up the monotony.

Warnings: dubious consent, arthur's mental health is kind of not so good...VERY low honor Arthur, darkish fic, a bit of naive reader. Guns and violence. Reader has dated and period typical ideals, not very good ideas about men and marriage… if you want reader to be strong and a fighter… this is not for you sorry. suggestive themes. WC: 5212 CHAPTER 9 !!! Thank you guys so much for all of your comments and replies and feedback, I've been loving it!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖 Thank you for all of the lovely asks as well, @frillydolle @emerald-ranch @teenalien-xx and anyone else who has sent an ask about this series… you guys are the best, I LOVE YOU watch out for meanie arthur AGAIN LMAO😈 Tags: no TB, weird but not that toxic relationship, Arthur being a menace. some scary shit, so watch out 👀Arthur being rude as always just... low honor arthur as a warning lol

You wait for Arthur to decide what happens to your family.

It’s entirely too still in your family home. The air is as stiff and immovable, just like the man, your man as he likes to say, standing behind you. Arthur’s presence is unwavering. As always, he has a natural inclination to hold dominance, to control. He doesn’t seem bothered by this situation, not like you do, not like your parents who watch on, powerless to stop him. In fact, it’s like he’s in his element. He holds himself with that signature cockiness, not misplaced for a second.

You pant in panic, feet shuffling underneath you. You grip onto the rough hide of his coat, scratching your nails into it, as if you can hold onto him for support but you know that whatever happens is ultimately Arthur’s choice.

Both of your parents have withering glances and worried stares. Their mouths are agape in shock, they try to move closer instinctively but Arthur cocks the hammer back on his gun. You can’t move, Arthur holds you much too tight, you almost can’t breathe. Fat tears drip down the roundness of your cheeks and down your jaw.

“You let her go, she didn’t hurt nobody, she never meant anybody any harm-” Your mother is trying to speak past her worry and anger. She devolves into a strangled cry, covering her face. Arthur has a rough chuckle, it grates on you. He thinks this is amusing, an exciting development.

“Yeah, gentle as a lamb, this one. You raised a real sweet girl, really knows how to make a man feel special, don’t she?” he has a light casual tone, as if he isn’t holding a gun up to your mother. His insinuation makes your face warm in shame, casting your gaze to the ground.

“Arthur…” Pleading with him results in nothing, you only want this to be over, you wish you could sink into the floor. At least then, you wouldn’t cause your parents so much grief. You thought he cared for you but that care does not extend past you to your family. This is simply how he gets what he wants and it doesn't matter to him that it’s your parents. That you beg him not to do this. Anyone who stands in his way risks their life.

“Honey, much as I like to hear you beg for me, now ain’t the time,”

Your father’s glare is full of disdain, disgust. Arthur revels in it, you can feel his chest puff up, he stands a little taller. His aim doesn’t dip at all, keeping his gun steady. He’s calculating what to do, where to go from here. All of you wait to see what he decides. It’s terrifying how it feels like he’s done this before, pointed his gun at innocent people to get what he wants. Arthur controls every single aspect of the situation with an untroubled air.

“We haven’t very much but you could have it all if it means you leave ‘er alone,” Your father’s hands are raised in defeat and surrender. Arthur scoffs.

“You ain’t got much, that’s true. Just one thing I want,” You whine, his grip isn’t rough, only firm, reminding you of how he thinks of you. You belong to him and you always will.

“Don’t want a goddamn thing, ‘cept her. What do you think, sweetheart? I take care of you?” You blink, you flush a little, unable to contain the joy his words bring to the sick part of you that likes Arthur. You can’t stand to look up and look at your parents. Their mortified faces, their utter horror. He becomes more vulgar as you fail to answer. Pushing you to say what he wants you to say.

“She might have a big mouth when it comes to this but her mouth weren’t so goddamn big last time I checked. Couldn’t fit all of me in there, now could you, pretty girl…could only stand to take ‘bout half of me,” your father’s disdain turns into disgust, malice. He looks as if he’s about to do something, angry tears well in his eyes. You can’t stand to see your family’s faces as they hear of the depraved things you did for Arthur.

“Yes! Yes, you… you took care of me,” you practically sob, mortified and humiliated, overcome by fear and a violent pang of regret. You focus on the wood grain of the floor, vision blurring with your own tears. Your voice is a shame filled whisper.

“Just stop this Arthur; I’ll go with you, please, let’s just go,” You beg again, hoping he’ll listen, that he’ll take you with him. That you can salvage whatever is left for whatever brief moments of peace you had with Arthur.

Your father says your name between clenched teeth. “You are not going anywhere,” his face twists, he doesn’t want to see you leave with Arthur but you don’t see another choice. Another way out of this situation without Arthur hurting your parents. All you can imagine is a hole in your father’s head, like the hole in the head of the man who tried robbing your campsite. The glazed over look in his eyes. Arthur hasn’t shown you anything that makes you think he would actually pull the trigger on your parents but right now, he’s a cornered rattlesnake. Poised and ready to strike if the moment calls for it.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that just yet,” Arthur huffs. You can almost hear the way one side of his mouth lifting up to show off that prideful smirk.

“What’s that you said? Didn’t matter, as long as I took good care of her. Never even said I loved her and you was ready to send her off. Don’t sound like anybody cares for her ‘round here. You sent her out there; for what? Don't you think ol' granny's lived long enough?” you look away, a subtle pain erupts in your chest. He never did say that he loved you.

There’s a cruel edge to his voice. He talks as if he's telling a joke. He motions vaguely in the direction of your grandmother. His casually callous words do seem to strike a cord with your mother; she closes her eyes, feeling the guilt he wants to inflict.

More tears spill over your lash line. If you had just been modest, if you had fought him, maybe you wouldn’t be so ashamed, you wouldn’t have disgraced yourself like this. But what hope did you have? He overpowered you then like he overpowers you now, his heavy arms slung over your neck, any shift from you and he presses his arm tighter.

“Should’ve known your Pa was spineless. Your woman's more man than you. Had more backbone than you; were you really gonna sign your only kid away like that?”

“You’re no man; no man at all,” Your father’s outcry at Arthur hits him more than he knows. “You’re nothing, just the scum of the earth here to take what isn’t yours,” your fathers tone is panicked still but you can tell he means every word, his face screwed up in anger. He may not know it but you know his comment impacts Arthur; more than Arthur would ever let on so obviously. But his hand squeezes harder at his gun, his posture stiffens behind you as you’re pressed against his body. Arthur doesn't have any room to hear your father’s complaints, does not let them go without consequences.

A bullet shatters something on the mantle and both you and your mother scream. You sob against Arthur, shock forces you still under his arm. The gun firing in the enclosed room has your ears ringing. You think your father is dead, you feel your stomach drop and more tears drip down your face. Everything fades away for a moment. You don’t know what you'd do if your father died today.

Your father clutches his shoulder, his hand comes away with blood. Your mother checks frantically over your father while his legs tremble, groaning in pain. Then he collapses into his knee. The smell of blood and his gunfire consume the space. You sniff, acknowledging that your father isn’t gravely injured but still, you thrash until he has something to say about it.

“Calm down, it ain’t exactly fatal,” he says, as if his bullet simply grazed your father’s arm. “Should teach you to keep your mouth shut. I’m usually less polite,”

“You’re a coward, is what you are,” your father struggles to speak past his pain. Your mother presses some fabric to his injury.

“You are really startin’ to annoy me. I ain’t got a single problem with leaving your neck a bloody stump but I don’t want her to see that. Do you?” His voice drops as low as it can go, a hostility that isn’t just for show. You whine, shaking your head, pressing backwards into Arthur. It doesn’t matter what happens to you, all you want is for him to take you away, to spare your family.

“No! No, Arthur, stop, I wanna go back to your house,” you attempt to pull his attention back to you. “Pa, I-I need to be with Arthur, It’s like you always said, right?” You look at him with as genuine a smile you can pull but the ache of your circumstances pulls you down. Your father shakes his head but you nod.

“Arthur, please…” you turn over your shoulder as much as you can. You plead with him with your eyes too. Imparting your desperation in your gaze. You know that Arthur, although steadfast and stubborn, can be moved by you. Something in you, whatever has captured his attention has him wanting to please you too. You can see how he huffs, looks this way and that. But he’s giving in, letting you have your way. His anger doesn’t dissipate entirely but he drops his shoulders.

“Alright, enough of this. Think we’re done with this little family reunion, ain’t we, sweetheart?” You nod vigorously, sniffing past your tears, trying to blink them away. You’re glad that endearing yourself to Arthur is still a trick you have up your sleeve. He seems to be done with whatever fight your parents put up, there isn’t a lot of it they have to offer. They cower at the end of his revolver. Your father puts himself in front of your mother, despite his injury bleeding onto the cloth your mother gave him. But he has no weapon to defend anyone with.

“No, you don’t have to go, sweetie,” Arthur’s finger twitches at the trigger, making your mother’s desperately hopeful voice fall silent. The teary eyed smile she gives you falls like her voice does.

“I’m not sure you heard what I said. But I’ll make it easier for you to understand. She ain’t your little girl anymore; she’s her own woman,” he mocks your mothers words. “N’ she wants to come with me,” you whimper as his arm gets tighter, unconsciously expressing his possessive attitude towards you. He looks down at you, lightening up a little.

“I’m real sorry it had to be like this, wanted somethin’ different for you. But I ain’t the one who went n’ messed it all up,” the blame he puts on you has your heart sinking. If you were just a better liar, maybe he wouldn’t be here, aiming a gun at your father who is already on the ground, staunching the blood which drips out over the fabric anyway.

“Shouldn’t hafta say this but I feel that maybe I have to. You make this difficult and I leave a bigger mess for your wife to clean up, you understand?” He’s speaking only to your father. His arm eases off of you, slowly. You can feel the underlying threat in his tone.

“Now, go and grab your things, honey.” His finality and the dead silence make you hesitate, like if you move it’s official. If you move, then you can’t go back to this moment again. To this place again. But he nudges you towards your room, motioning his gun, still pointing with that deadly aim you know he has. You go to your bedroom in a trance almost, walking past your parents, you can’t bear to see them. Their terrified faces, the mournful stare they watch you with. As if you walk to your execution.

In your room, the chest is much too heavy for you to take with you. So you leave your clothes and take only things you can’t get back. The most precious things to you. A book of stories from your youth, some toys and your favorite toy, figurines your father gave to you and a shawl knitted by your grandmother. Silent tears drip as you pack them into a much smaller valise, bead of water gathering over the wool of your shawl. Your supplies for knitting and embroidering are stowed away too but you don’t take any of the unnecessary bits you have.

You snap it shut. It feels like this chapter of your life is snapping shut too, you know it, so deep inside of yourself. That you’ll never see your family again. By some miracle perhaps, but never the same way at the very least. You wipe violently at your face, picking up your suitcase, changing quickly into a fresher set of clothes before you step out.

The smile he has for you is tinged with the violence of the gleam of the silver metal in his hand. That wolfish grin, a bear's snarl more than something that reflects any true joy. You walk to him, stand at his side, the way you know he wants you too.

Your father still has that gleam in his eye, like he wants to fight against Arthur. You frown. You don’t want him getting hurt trying in vain to save you. That’s the last thing you want. You know that sacrificing yourself for the safety of your parents isn’t what your father wants but you don’t want anyone hurt here because of you.

“Please, Pa. Just leave us alone. I… I want to be with Arthur,” you murmur. It’s harder to say as you look at your father’s hand clenching over his wound. You’re not even sure if you mean it yourself. But Arthur is your reality now. Whether you like it or not.

Your mother starts to cry louder now. You blink, holding back the loud noise of your emotions. You drop your bag, hugging your family tight in one strong motion, letting them hold you tightly. Your fathers blood stains your cheek but you don’t care. Your mother brushes it off your cheek.

You want to hold them for as long as you can. Your mother shakes against you and your father kisses your hair. You separate yourself slowly. You want to keep this moment forever. Maybe you’d see them again, you’d beg and beg Arthur to take you here again. But you doubt he’d say yes. Or even worse, your family would refuse to see you, the disgrace you’d be after leaving with Arthur.

“You don’t have to go with him…” Your mother pets your hair. You shake your head.

“Yes, I do. Pa’s already hurt, I can’t-” You can’t see anymore of this. You know he’ll survive this, he has survived worse. But you don’t want anyone else getting hurt on your account. Your mother and father tell you they love you. At least someone in this room has the sentiment in them to say it to your face. You tuck strands of your hair behind your ear, sniffing quietly.

“I’ll be ok, I promise,” you bid, trying to soothe their worries but it’s like they don’t hear you at all, as if you said nothing. You back up, one step at a time before you’re taking your things in both hands again, clutching at the wooden handle of your case like it's the only thing keeping you from floating away. Arthur has his revolver in his holster now. You give them a parting look, trying to absorb as many memories of your childhood as you can, before Arthur guides you out of the door.

The cold greets you again, you pull his coat around you tighter, letting him help you up into the wagon after he places your things in the back of the cart. You hardly look at him, instead watching your parents delicately step outside to watch helplessly as you ride away with Arthur. You can hardly stand to watch as your mother falls in a heap on the cold snow. Your father looks on, a devastation is made clear in his defeated posture, his somber gaze. You bring yourself to do it anyway, looking until you can’t see them anymore.

You don’t talk with Arthur. There’s a stiff air between the both of you. Any minute amount of companionship or whatever fake love he made you feel is gone. He has told your parents what happened, and threatened to kill them if they didn’t let you go. You don’t know what you had imagined when you first arrived at your parents house but it wasn’t this. You had prayed things wouldn’t end in blood but perhaps you were too hopeful to expect Arthur to keep his nature in check.

The clouds from earlier seem to have blown away for now. The winter sun is starting to dip lower, an orange hue lights the horizon beyond the dark trunks of the bare trees.

Arthur lets you have your space and some time to stew but he’s had enough. He heaves a sigh, like he knows you’ll be upset with him. But acting as if it’s unfair that you’re not in the best mood has you just about ready to slap him; consequences be damned.

“Listen, I didn’t want things to go that way,” his voice is hardly apologetic, some stuck on emotion that isn’t sorry one bit.

“So you didn’t mean to shoot my father? Arthur, don’t…I think you’ve said and done enough today,” you warn. You don’t want to listen to him talk. It's like he just likes the sound of his own voice right now more than anything.

“What did you say to your mama anyway? You tell her I held you down? That I violated you? Or you tell her how much you like my tongue inside your-“

“Arthur! Stop it. I- I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to,” you pull your collar to the side but only slightly. You show him the mark he left on you. “She certainly understood the message,” you want to cry, to show him the angry tears dripping down your face.

“I’m just lucky you didn’t leave my father’s neck a bloody stump, aren’t I?” You spit at him. You let your tears dry, only anger left inside you. A rage you didn’t know you had. An anger you’ve shown him before in brief glimpses when you give him lip but not like this, not quite pushed to the edge as now.

You ignore how his hands tighten on the reins. How his breathing becomes heavier. His eyes track over the mark. A symbol of his supposed ownership. The iris of his eye is such a pretty blue, hidden by the narrowing of his eyes and then the dip of his head, the brim of his hat lowering over them. His body postures, like he wants to act but he holds it all back. His shoulders tense under the brown fur of his coat.

“Maybe my Pa was right, huh? You; Arthur Morgan, can act all high and mighty, but I’m not sure you’re a man at all either,” you let yourself continue, not minding Arthur’s reaction which is about to boil over on you. “I’m not sure men are supposed to act anything like-”

Your defiant tone is clipped short by his hand on your face, the fingers are tight on your cheeks. It doesn’t hurt you but he holds you in place, pinned down like a lamb to be sheared. His eyes are cold now, his face is frighteningly neutral. He makes you look him in his eyes, meeting his frosted gaze. The anger in your face dissolves like sugar in water. Replaced by the surprise of his sudden action.

“Yeah, you are lucky I didn’t blow his head off, leave his brain on the wall for your Mama to scrape off with a goddamn spoon,” his voice is rough and low, touching something in your head that drains all the anger, some old instinct in you. But not a new one, one you’ve had before. Melting into him, the way you did the first time he grabbed you, he held you against the counter. “As for my manhood; I ain’t got nothin’ to prove. But you’re all too familiar with mine, ain’t you, girl?” You burn red hot at his derisive question.

His eyes are focused in a quiet rage, but he shakes his head, as if thinking of something, of a better way to handle it. Hopefully for your sake; something not too rash. Then he moves his sharp gaze to the lonely woods behind you.

“If you want to try and run now, by all means. Be my guest,” it’s maybe the last thing you would think he’d say. It’s against everything he’s done to you, you give him a look, bewildered. No way Arthur would let you go so fast. You’re almost confused but you wait for his catch. Things with Arthur are never so easy.

“But if I catch you, you’re mine,” A strange smirk and a cruel glare are what he offers. That easy cockiness returns to him, his sure attitude, the certainty in his brow. The leather of his gloves is cold on your face still. It’s a game he wants to play with you, a challenge. As if delighted by his own idea, he grins a bit wider.

“I’ll make it fair and easy, how ‘bout it? I give you a chance to get away. And if you do, I’ll go home empty handed, hell I’ll even leave all your stuff here and send your horse back to ya.”

“But I catch you; you come home with me. And you won’t be leavin’ me,” you stare at him, unsure and afraid. He’s giving you one shot at freedom. To leave him behind and go back to your mother and father.

“Arthur, can’t you see you’ve already gotten what you wanted?” you protest lightly. The imagery of besting him, the strong and capable Arthur Morgan does call to you but something isn’t right.

“You want things to be fair; I’m makin’ them fair. You keep actin’ like you don’t want this, like you don’t want me. Now’s your chance to prove it,” Each word he says is dipped in his frustration. He isn’t quite satisfied with how things went in your family’s cabin as much as you thought he would be.

“C’mon, angel,” he sighs, he looks excited. His breath comes heavier, faster. His eyes are blown wide, eclipsing his summer blue and prairie green eyes with darkness like the coldest winter. He’s grinning, pressing into you, his hand pinches at the softness of your cheeks. Not enough to hurt you. Only to remind you of his strength, his tenacity.

His hand floats down to your neck, yours comes up to hold his wrist. He looks too excited, happy to chase you, work for you. Show you the lengths he’s willing to go to. At first you’re not too sure why. You prickle; you know something isn’t right but you’re too attracted to the thought of winning his little game.

“Cute little things like you are good at runnin’. I’ll give you a head start,” his hand leaves you and he begins counting. You’re stuck, like your back is glued to the seat of the wagon.

“Two…Three…” you turn like a brush animal, jumping from the wagon and stumbling a bit before you’re running into the woods.

The rest of the numbers ring out eerily in the quiet of the woods before they fade into the background. Your heart jumps into your throat. He’s serious about this. You pant, lungs burning with cold air, fear pushes at your heels. His coat is heavy on your shoulders but you don’t want to die of hypothermia should you toss it in your haste. You gather it up, before sprinting as fast as you can. The sun's orange light is fading fast but you pay it no mind, kicking up your legs to carry you as far away as you can.

The light snow crunches under your feet and you run into the depths of the woods, where animals sense your coming and rush off, knowing a predator is stalking. You look behind you, face screwed up in fear, adrenaline almost makes you stand still. You can’t see him and you didn’t bother to ask how much time he would give you. Arthur isn’t always the giving type but you hope he has a shred of mercy for you. You think perhaps this is the exception.

Like a deer looking up at the smallest sound. You rush off, trying to pace your running. Eventually, your legs tire, your side hurts and your nose and lungs start to ache from the cold dry air flowing through them. You lean against a tree a moment, panting, feeling warm, uncomfortable in the fur of the coat. Your thoughts run dry like a dusty river bed, all you can think of is escaping. Getting away from Arthur.

You keep going for as long as you can but fatigue pulls at the muscles of your legs and thighs. You continue, looking for somewhere to hide at least. It’s quiet, no birds, no animals, no wind to even sway the branches of the trees. All you can hear is your own blood, your own breath. The puff of your gasping into the winter air clouds up before your eyes.

You look out at the trees, black slender trunks that reach far too high for you to climb. All of the brush has decayed for the winter. You see a part of the forest that tilts downwards, perhaps a bit too steep but you don’t have another choice.

You slip down the hill, trying to stay upright. You land in somewhat of a heap, on your behind at the bottom of the hill. There’s a cropping of some rocks and you can find something to hide behind, large enough for you to stay hidden. You cover your mouth, your heart beating under your chest. like you’ve trapped a song bird in your rib cage.

You don’t know what you did to be here. Except perhaps needing help in a vulnerable moment. You kick yourself, you should have just ran down the road back home but in all of your fluster, you ran into the woods, like a scared rabbit. Just to get away. You don’t know what Arthur will do should he find you but you know it won’t be a happy reunion, not a playful meeting like two children playing hide and seek. It will be something else, much more like when a wolf corners a lost animal. A domesticated creature meeting a wild beast of prey.

You wait there for what feels like the longest hours of your life. The sunlight almost disappears, it gets much darker than before, the dusk starts to close in. Especially in the valley of this little hill you hide in. It gets colder as the light fades. Through the quiet, you can hear him, his boots crunch heavily through the snow.

“Y’know, you ain’t any good at covering your tracks,” he steps up to the top of the hill you had gone down. His voice makes your blood run cold, you tense up, as if sensing he’s looking in your direction.

“But I played fair, gave you a little while,” he grunts as he makes his way down the hill. Much less sloppier than you. Your eyes squeeze shut, you clench your hands. You had forgotten all of his hunting trophies, all of the guns he had on display. He set out already knowing he would win. You deliberate bursting from your hiding place or waiting to see if he’ll find you.

In a split second, you’re up on your feet, running in another direction. He’s after you, you’re sure of it, you know you can’t stop. You can feel the desperate noises in your throat. You try to make it as far as you can, but Arthur has his arms, corded in muscle, around your waist. You let out a strangled squeak, as he lifts you off the ground briefly with a scary amount of ease.

“There you are, princess,” he has pride, a self assured happiness. But he isn’t surprised at all. He has you on the ground, even as you struggle against him. “Been lookin for you,” you’re held down in no time at all really, even as you struggle against his grip on you. Arthur is entirely too heavy.

“Settle down, girl, it’s alright,” he’s shushing you. You exhaust yourself, feeling yourself heave and sob in his arms. Why couldn’t he be a bit scrawnier? You wish he were the kind of man who could be easily kicked off but he’s anything but. The adrenaline courses through you, making you jitter but all you can feel is the defeat. Quiet resignation calms you down, letting yourself go in his arms. He’s much too strong for you to put up any real challenge. You should have known he had this in mind, an easy win.

“I got what’s mine. My wife…” He mutters, gloved hands petting your hair. The satisfaction in his voice sends shivers down your spine, the dredges of what feeling you had for him stir, even after his treatment of you and your parents. You wiggle, whining, trying to shake his hand off if you. Your heart beats faster at his words. His wife. You don’t want it to have an effect on you but you can’t help it, wincing in embarrassment. You watch helplessly as he bites his gloves off his hands, clearly intent on feeling every bit of you with nothing between your skin and the heat of his fingertips.

“Deals a deal, sweetheart, ain’t much else to it,” he sighs, a sarcastic disappointment in his voice. His face is so close to yours, he puts some of his weight on you to keep your half hearted thrashing to a minimum. You try to give him all you can in the way of defiance. But you know Arthur. He won’t let you go. This is his commitment to you.

His hips jolt, nudge your thigh provocatively. And you just now realize how his breathing hasn’t slowed down like yours. His eyes are wild, still swallowed in the black of his pupils, a crooked smirk pushes at his lips. You should have known better than to think Arthur would lose this hunt. He was destined to win. And you were always going to be the prey he would catch.

I would like to thank Twistidkiwi over on ao3 for the arthur hunting you idea, it was just... too good 🥹🥹🥹🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ thank you queen!! i hope you guys liked it!! i would just let arthur get my ass after like 3 miinutes of chasing me LOL ohhh nooo you caught me 😳thank you so much for reading and lmk what you think !! until ch 10 😏Series Masterlist

[alicenpai]

🌟 ART SUMMARY 2024 🥂

this was a year where i didnt draw a lot, despite that, i tried to make every drawing count. thank you all for the support in 2024, here's to 2025 ! 🫶

⭐ [read more starts here]

i continued my goals from last year with regards to perfectionism. the tldr is that i strongly feel my perfectionism kept me away from completing as many drawings as i could, and i had to make an effort to just finish drawings no matter how lukewarm I felt about them. 2024 was a strange year, it came and went in the blink of an eye, even more than previous years! life has been stressful, so i've been trying to focus more on myself and taking time off drawing. ironic, although i think i succeeded in that above goal, i expected to get more drawings out of it, but ended up taking more time off drawing anyways. towards the end of the year, i started feeling more burnt out, and drawing became a slow and arduous process. i think part of the reason was because 2024 was my first year doing 5 events - 2 full weekend conventions (anime north and otakuthon), and 3 single day events (bamtori fall aapi market, toronto game expo, bamtori jinglebam market), when in the past 2 years i'd just opt to do 1-2 local cons. it was also my first time doing single day events, which were super chill! although you have to both set up and tear down on the same day, i felt more casual at those events, had more time to chat and look around. back to my point - despite being fun, doing so many events took its toll on me - especially during the colder months of the year, where i wasn't so used to going to events haha! usually i take fall as the time to rejuvenate and recover from summer events, but i couldn't really do that this year. i kept questioning myself, "does this drawing have appeal? will people buy this?" "is my art hireable?" and it's just not a healthy mindset to have. next year i'll try to draw more of what i enjoy and what's on my mind, instead of worrying too much if it's sellable! *feeling like the HAHA YES sickos meme* - 2025 art goals outlined below: - oc zine (aiming for a character guide with some test comics) - character interactions & poses! e.g. dancing, hugs - generally stuff that's more difficult to draw. my art is more illustrative, but sometimes i wished it was more engaging emotionally? like i want people to smile and cry with my characters... - illustrations that challenge me. when i say illusts that challenge me it's pretty abstract - do research and gather inspiration for every illust.. compositions that are difficult/complex and take a while to draft.. strong theme.. it's more for me to understand AHAHAHA. as the years go by you can see my art becoming more unified in theme and self indulgent... i want to keep going, i want to make art that is uniquely mine. less priority: - get used to sketching! truly miss how i used to fill up sketchbooks every year - sticker sheets (this is on the less priority list bc i will probably fulfill this goal regardless) - oc merch (happy with the stickers i made in the last 2 yrs, let's keep going!) - silly things! e.g. 4koma, silly doodles. comedy is an art, it IS a skill you can study and chip away at (e.g. comedians and comedy writers). make sure i take notes on really stand-out jokes i find funny & why

other various things to try and draw more of: - group pictures - animals - layouts and props. i find layouts and anything with hard surfaces difficult to draw, which is why i draw a lot of flowers and fabric LMAO. one thing i gotta do is start by either drawing characters holding props more (easy baby steps!) and/ or start drawing props around them and make my way towards harder things (e.g. practice drawing a character sitting, i'll start by drawing a simple chair, then a table, then objects on that table). this is also one of my weaknesses - draw the ground they're standing on if possible, e.g. characters standing on a grid - vehicles, if i can. i mostly draw stuff from fantasy series where cars don't exist LOL but i'll try...

[faithshouseofsmut]

Camboy!Lando Norris ft Max V and Charles L part one

Summary — Lando is a Camboy who makes videos with everyone’s favorite pornstars!

Warnings — (overall for the whole mini series) size kink manhandling degrading/praise kink face fucking, oral male receiving, anal, use of toys, snowballing, cum eating, marking kink, pornstar Max,Charles,Carlos,Oscar,Daniel. (I’ll add to the warnings if I think of something else)

Word count 1722

I reposted this to my old account that got deleted and it’s on my ao3

Scenario one Max and Charles — Lando let out a whine of desperation as Max gripped his hips tightly keeping him still. He was sitting on Max’s much bigger lap Lando’s back was pressed against Max’s chest the sheer size difference was making Lando’s mind feel fuzzy along with Max’s cock deep inside him making Lando’s breath hitch. Lando felt a slight shiver run through his body at the feeling of Max's voice against his ear. The way Max was holding him was already affecting his mind, making him feel a bit dizzy.

"Max, I- I can't-" Lando began to protest, still panting from the feeling of Max inside him. He could feel Max's arms wrapping around him, and he let out a small whine before continuing.

"I can't-" Lando paused as Max tightened his grip, his mind still processing the situation. He was sitting on Max's lap, held tight by those strong arms around him. Max's breath against his ear was making his skin tingle.

"Max, I-" Lando started again, but he was quickly interrupted by a small moan as Max hit a certain spot.

“I think you can,” Max says, placing small kisses on Lando’s before biting his shoulder. Lando couldn't hold back another moan as he felt Max's lips and teeth on his skin. The feeling of Max's arms holding him tight was already affecting him, and now Max's lips and teeth were making his head spin.

“Look into the camera, baby boy. Say hi to all of your followers” Max says shifting causing Lando to squeak.

“H-hi everyone,” he says.

Off to the side, he can see Charles stroking his cock. Lando’s mouth watered at the sight. Wincing as Max yanked on his hair making him look back at the camera.

“Keep going”

Swallowing and letting out a shaky breath Lando continued “We have a surprise guest with us today” he says as comments begin to roll in wondering who it is along with praise and lewd comments.

“That’s it, tell'em who it is,” Max says looking at Charles.

“Today we have fan favorite Charles Leclerc,” Lando says, licking his lips.

With the mention of the popular Monegaque Charles walked into the view of the camera smirking and petting Lando on the head as if he was a puppy.

“Oh bébé, tu es trop gentil,” Charles says looking at Lando. Lando felt a shiver run through his body as Charles entered the camera's view, looking at him with that mischievous smirk. Lando had a weak spot for Charles, and that look in his eyes was making his stomach flutter.

"Oh Charles," Lando breathed, feeling Charles' fingers through his hair. The feeling of Charles caressing his hair was sending tingles down his spine. Lando couldn't keep his eyes off him.

"Bébé?" he repeated, feeling warm at the nickname. He tried to speak but only another small whine came out.

“Why don’t you make me feel good and then maybe Max and I will let cum. How does that sound? Charles says looking at the pair of them.

Lando's mind was spinning as he heard Charles' suggestion. The thought of making Charles feel good was already making him dizzy. It was something he wanted, something he *needed*. He wanted to feel Charles' attention, his touch, his voice in his ear.

Lando looked to Max for confirmation, his eyes wide and pleading, his body trembling slightly. He could feel Max's hands still holding him tightly, his grip keeping Lando in place on his lap.

Max chuckled at Lando's expression. "Look at you, all needy and desperate to please Charles," he teased, his voice coming out in a low, sultry tone.

Lando whined in response, unable to deny the truth in Max's words. He wanted to make Charles feel good, to give him pleasure, to make him happy. Lando looked pleadingly over at Charles, his mouth already watering at the thought.

“Look at him whining for it like a bitch in hate,” Charles said in a mocking tone.

“Can’t blame him,” Max says, squeezing Charles’s bare hip.

Comments continued to pour in like a long with new subscribers and money.

Charles smirked, giving his cock another stroke as he stepped closer to tapping Lando’s lips with the tip of his cock.

Lando's eyes widened as Charles brought the tip of his cock to his lips. He opened his mouth automatically, his tongue flicking out to taste the precum leaking from the tip. The flavor was musky and masculine, and Lando couldn't help but moan around the cock in his mouth.

Charles groaned at the feeling of Lando's warm mouth wrapped around his cock. He gently thrust his hips forward, pushing his cock deeper into Lando's mouth. "Fuck, look at him sucking my dick like a good little bitch," Charles said, his voice dripping with pride as he looked over at Max.

“It’s the one thing he knows how to do right,” Max says. Lando gagged slightly as Charles hit the back of his throat, his eyes watering from the sudden depth. He pulled back slightly, gasping for air before sinking back down, determined to please Charles. He looked up at Charles with pleading eyes, his mouth stuffed full of cock, silently asking for more.

The combination of being stuffed with Max's cock in his ass while trying to properly suck Charles's dick had Lando's head spinning in sheer pleasure and submission. His whimpers vibrated around Charles's cock as Max moved beneath him, thrusting deeper into Lando's tight hole.

Charles wrapped his hands in Lando's hair, forcing his face down onto his lap as Max's powerful arms wrapped around Lando's waist, pulling him down onto his massive lap. "He's taking both of us so well,"

“He’s doing so well I think he deserved a reward. What do you think Charles should I play with his cock”? Max asked.

Lando whimpered around Charles's girth, his eyes fluttering closed at the thought of getting attention on his neglected little member. He was so focused on pleasing the two massive men that he almost forgot about his own needs.

Charles pulled his cock out of Lando's mouth with a pop, a string of saliva connecting his lip to the tip of his dick. He looked down at Lando with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with sadistic intent. "I think Max has the perfect idea,"

Max wrapped his thick fingers around Lando's cock, his large hands engulfing the length. He began to slowly stroke Lando, his powerful grip making Lando whimper and buck his hips against Max's lap, trying to get more friction. "He likes it,"

Charles chuckled, reaching out to join in, his hand wrapping around Max's, effectively doubling the pressure on Lando's cock. They began to stroke him in unison, their hands moving in perfect synchrony as they pumped Lando's cock.

Lando let out a high-pitched whine, his eyes rolling back as pleasure overwhelmed him. His small body shook and trembled, sandwiched between the two massive men as they stroked his sensitive cock. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he got closer and closer to the edge.

Charles took his hand away and grabbed his cock and stuffed Lando’s mouth full of it not caring about Lando cumming or not.

Charles' cock immediately filled his mouth again, Lando gagged slightly but quickly relaxed his throat, eager to please. The dual sensation of being stuffed in his mouth and having Max's thick fingers work his cock had him spiraling closer to the edge.

"That's it, take it like the good little cocksucker you are," Charles grunted as he thrust his hips forward, fucking Lando's face. Meanwhile, Max's hand continued its skilled pace on Lando's cock, bringing him closer to climax. "Look at him,"

Max looked at Lando's face stuffed with Charles's massive member, his hand working Lando's cock. He could see the tears streaming down Lando's face from being choked on Charles's thick length. "He looks so pathetic like this,"

“Well, what did you expect? Lando loves to please, it's the one thing he’s good at” Max says, giving Charles a wink.

"Keep stroking, please don't stop," Lando managed to mumble around Charles's cock, his voice muffled and desperate. His body shook, overwhelmed by the dual sensation. His hips bucked against Max's hand, chasing his release while Charles used his mouth. "I'm close..."

Charles grinned, his hips picking up speed as he fucked Lando's face. He could feel his orgasm approaching, his balls tightening as he thought about unleashing his load down Lando's throat. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he growled, his cock swelling even larger in Lando's mouth.

Lando whimpered around Charles's cock, his body tensing as he struggled to hold back his orgasm. Tears streamed down his face, and saliva dripped from his chin as Charles continued to pound into his mouth. Max's skilled hand on his cock was driving him crazy with need.

Charles was getting close, his breathing heavy as he gripped Lando's hair tighter. "Fuck, open wider, little slut," he grunted, hitting the back of Lando's throat. Max's thumb pressed firmly against Lando's slit, pushing him closer to the edge.

Charles thrust deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he released more of his hot load down Lando's throat. " Swallow every fucking drop," he commanded, his hips still jerking against Lando's face. Max's hand worked faster on Lando's cock,

Lando gagged and choked as Charles's thick cum filled his mouth, but he swallowed it all down like a good little slut. As soon as he finished, Max's hand tightened, bringing Lando right to the edge. "Now, cum for us," Max ordered, his voice low and commanding, feeling his release approaching.

With that final command, Lando let out a muffled scream around Charles's cock, his body convulsing as his orgasm ripped through him. Hot semen shot out of his cock, coating Max's hand.

Max brought his hand to Lando’s face, showing him the massive amount of cum that had come out of him. "Look at all this," He chuckled, smearing the sticky mess on Lando's belly.

Lando whimpered, his face flushed with embarrassment as he looked down at the mess on his stomach. He felt so used and degraded, but at the same time, he loved the attention and the way his owners treated him like their personal cumdumpster.

[onskepa]

Stxeli: Trust

Helloooooooo~!! Here is another part of the ongoing series! Hope you all enjoy~!!

Stxeli series

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Trust is one of the main important elements in a person's life and in the overall society. Trust helps gain and benefit from others by mutual trust. Trust creates long lasting relationships, no matter the type. Trust is as strong as a stone, but fragile as glass. One wrong move and the trust is gone, one right move and its stronger. 

And sometimes, trust takes a long time to develop. Just as it can quickly grow. 

There really is no between. 

It has been some time now since Jake has joined the clan. Learning their ways and even speaking better, heavy on his english accent but better. His hunting skills are improving, but much better than his first day. His relationship wih the villagers has also improved greatly. Many have come to like him, sharing their honest words to their leaders. 

Even neytiri has come to enjoy his presence. Would often look forward to spending the day with jake. 

This leads to mo’at and eytukan having to think very long and hard about what their next move is. 

Is jake trustworthy enough to meet their child? 

Mo’at can come up with millions of excuses to not have the dream walker see her precious child. But at some point, it has to happen, if jake is to become part of the clan, the seeing stxeli is inevitable. 

She just wishes there were other ways. 

“And then you add just a pinch of this aaaaaaaaaaand tada~!!” stxeli proudly shows kame how to make instant healing glue should he need to heal an injury fast enough. 

“This still needs work, I recommend doing this for small cuts, I plan to make this glue be a replacement to stitches” stxeli explains. 

Kame claps his hands in amazement. 

“Incredible, it also shouldnt hurt as much right?” he asks. Stxeli looks at the glue then back at him. 

“No….?” she says in more of a question. 

“No?” he repeats. 

“Well, that is the goal. I have seen so many go to my sa’nu and get help. I know she is tsahik, but when I help, I see many get stitches. And those hurt a lot, but it's to help with their wounds. So, to help them without causing anymore pain, I want to make a special glue that can help! Still needs work though” 

Kame listens to stxeli, his eyes stare with adoration at her goal. What she wants to do to help with their people is very inspiring. In kame’s eyes, stxeli is kind, very creative, maybe a bit too obsessed with the yovo, but stxeli is just simply amazing. 

That is someone kame loves to have around. And being around her lifts his own spirits up. 

“I still need to make lots of adjustments but! I like to think I am on the right path” stxeli says happily. 

“Are you going to show it to the tsahik?” Kame asks. Stxeli slightly frowned. 

“Not so soon. I still need to figure out how I want it to be. I won't show it until it's ready” she answers. 

“But if you tell her, maybe she can help you make it better,” kame suggests. 

True, her mother is an expert and can look at any plant and instantly know what it is and what it does. 

“Yeah, but she has enough to deal with. Im gonna figure this out, so, promise not to tell anyone?” stxeli stares deep into kame’s eyes. 

“Yes, I promise. You can trust me” 

“He has tamed his ikran today” neytiri informs her parents. She looks over at Jake as he retells his recent victory of having an ikran of his own to the other na’vi. All seemed very interested in his overly exaggerated story. 

After a huge success, it called for a huge feast. Everyone gathered to celebrate his accomplishment, now there is only one last step to take. 

Well, more like 2 steps in this case. 

“He has to meet stxeli before he can complete his iknimaya” eytukan says suddenly. 

Mo’at, neytiri, and tsu’tey all turned their heads towards him. Shocked that he said that. “Eytukan, you cannot mean that” mo’at says, fear crawling in. 

Jake isn't ready, he will never be ready. One look at her and its over. 

“If he is to become one of us, then he must meet our daughter” eytukan affirms. 

Neytiri switches places, now sitting to her father’s left side, “sempu, jake sully is growing but this, this is too much to demand. What if he hurts her?” 

The olo’eyktan turns to his daughter, “you spent more time with him than any of us combined. As his teacher, you see how he progresses. You shall give the final judgment”. 

All eyes were on neytiri. 

Mo’at silently pleaded with her daughter to say no, tsu’tey felt the same. But eytukan remained neutral. 

Neytiri looked up to see the soft glow imitating from stxeli’s little nook in the tree. If they could, they would keep her baby sister hidden forever. But this is about mutual trust. Jake has given his all, it's only fair they do the same. 

“Jake shall meet her” 

Kame was making his way back to his home after a playful evening with stxeli in her little nook. Supervised of course. But it was fun nonetheless. She even gifted him some of her better version of the healing glue. 

“To heal long scratches,” she said. 

He will use it wisely. Kame also promised to take note of how long and how well it heals should he get hurt. 

“Little boy” a female voice called to him. 

Kame turns to see an elderly woman. Her body and hair are adorned with various beads, unique clothes and a head piece that oddly resembles something a tsahik would wear. Not that kame takes a closer look, this woman has more items decorating her than tsahik mo’at wears. 

“Hello child” she speaks again, her smile trying to be soft but kame can sense something is not right. 

“Hello…” he responds. The need to leave intensifies. 

“Easy child, I bring you no harm. My son teaches you” the lady tells. 

Kame tilts his head, “your son?” 

“Tsu’tey, he speaks very highly of you” 

The lady is tsu’tey’s mother then, still doesnt help in easing his nerves. 

“The vile you have, is it to heal?” she asks as she gets closer. Kame wants to back away, but this is his teacher’s mother. Would it be rude and disrespectful if he moves away from her? 

Kame gently touched the vial that held stxeli’s healing glue. 

“Why?” he asks, a bit defensively. 

“If it is to heal, may I have it? My poor son comes home nearly every day with bruises, scratches, even deep cuts from all the training and hunting” the woman explains with some sense of true worry. As a mother should for her child. 

“But nearly every day I see him go to the tsahik so she can fix him. Even her youngest daughter helps” he said. 

It was quick, despite how dark it is, kame caught a sneer from the woman. Her face back to being a false happy smile. 

“Hm, yes. A tsahik’s duty is to help those in need. However, my son comes home still in pain, even after visiting the tsahik….” 

Kame was not liking where this was going, he felt a bit of anger rise within. “Are you implying that our tsahik does not do a very good job at healing tsu’tey?” he snaps. 

“Oh I know mo’at is not doing very well at healing, much less being a good tsahik” 

If stxeli was here, no doubt she would bite the face off of this woman. The audacity! The boldness she dares say! 

“If I were the tsahik, I would make sure not only my son, but everyone leaves the tent free of pain. Wouldn't you agree?” she pushed on. 

Kame held the vile tighter, ready to head back to stxeli. To tell her what he is hearing. She would believe him. 

“And I would make sure your father lives to see your iknimaya complete. Unlike mo’at who let your mother perish. Wouldn't you agree, kame?” 

“Are you alright sa’nu? You look like you have a lot on your mind” stxeli observes her mother. Her eyes are heavy with deep thoughts. Usually her parents come with bright smiles and are ready to sleep. Even her father seems hesitant. 

Mo’at shakes her head and easily picks up her daughter. 

“Nothing worth telling you. Besides, you have a full day tomorrow” mo’at says as she boops her daughter. 

Stxeli boops back, but curiosity now takes over. 

“I do? I was gonna play with kame” she says. 

“No, I believe you had enough from today” eytukan mutters as he guides his mate and daughter to their hammock. Mo’at rolls her eyes but gets comfortable. 

“Sempu, kame is my best friend. You have to accept him at some point” stxeli giggles. Seems like eytukan still doesn't like kame no matter how much he proves himself. 

“Bah, when he passes his iknimaya, we shall see” 

Mo’at decides to change the subject. 

“Your big day is coming very soon ma’ite. Are you excited?” she asks. 

Stxeli nods enthusiastically. 

“Mhm! Neytiri is helping me with my new outfit! I wanna look extra pretty!” 

Eytukan and mo’at look at their sweet baby with great love, her big day is coming soon. The day the whole village celebrates Eywa gifting her to them. 

“You will always be pretty, my sweet girl. Eywa bestowed you with potential beauty” eytukan proudly comments. 

“Enough now, best we rest before stxeli here riles up again” mo’at says as she gently tickles her daughters tummy, making stxeli giggles. 

They huddle together, letting sleep take over. 

Jake sits on his wheelchair and he makes his way to his bed. 

“Good news” he says while mid-munching on some food crap. 

“It better be damn good news, fucking lighter won't work” grace grunts impatient as she tries to light up her last cigar for the night. 

Jake boldly took the unlit cigar from her mouth, having her full attention while making sure no one else listens. 

“I gained their trust just enough to meet someone special” he whispers. 

Grace furrows her eyebrow, wondering who. 

“That human kid living among them. Neytiri said it's time I meet her little sister” 

In that moment, Grace's heart sunk deep inside. 

“Here you go sempu” kame gently offers a neon green liquid to his ill father. 

“Thank you my son” his father praises as he drinks the herbal liquid. Kame smiled but his does not meet his beloved fathers. 

Already guilt is eating him alive. 

[forgive me stxeli….I broke my promise to you…] 

his hand reaches for his side, where the vial of stxeli’s healing glue should have been. But it's gone now, he given it to artsute. With the promise from her that she will heal his father way faster than mo’at can ever heal. 

He is doing it for his dad to get better. If that is the case, why does it feel he made things worse…? 

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that is it for this chapter! How do you guys like it? Whatchu guys think of what will happen next? lemme know your thoughts!

Until next time! see ya!

Liking the story? click HERE to join the taglist!

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[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter One

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

We begin chapter one with a blueberry jasmine tea!

I will say that tomorrow I probably wont be posting a chapter. My mom and sister are visiting my partner and I for the holidays tonight and staying until Sunday afternoon, so I likely won't be able to read until Sunday.

Anyways, send good luck my way because we are likely going to play a vicious game of monopoly.

Let's go chapter 1!!

okay, my assumptions going in was that this was a very serious series about tough trials and hardships but here we are starting this chapter with XIe Lian taking "first place on the chart of Heavenly Officials Most Hoped to be Banished Down to the Mortal Realm". This is kind of camp. is this the series energy??? p23

omg they literally made the chart for him p24

RIP that bell. had a good run. pp24-25

I can't lol. this poor guy. If things are there that shouldn't be- Xie Lian's fault. If there are things missing that should be there- also Xie LIan's fault. How does a single guy cause so much damage? p25

Okay this is an open question to anyone. I am confused about this merit system. I totally understand that gods get merits based on worships/offerings/beliefs/temples whatever. What I do not understand is how a god gets points from a martial god kicking his ass? p26

This is so real. Bro forgot the password p27

not them placing bets on how long he'll last this time. This is so funny p27

these deities are so rude to him! He's just trying to apologize and they are so condescending. I love an underdog though so I'm rooting for this man. p29

Oh shit okay. I take back my previous contempt. This was the guy hit by the bell. p29

aaaaand we have the added salt that these two know each other previously. Xuan Zhen/Mu Qing being from Xianle Palace as well. pp30-31

Bless Ling Wen for keeping this man in check. Honestly best Heavenly Handler p32

Jesus. It's as though Xie Lian is in a room talking to all his exes. This is so awkward! Nan Yang/Feng Xin also being from Xianle Palace p33

Why am I so nervous about Xie Lian going on this mission??? Bro has 0 power, 0 respect, and attracts bad luck like nobody's business. p38

omg. even the clouds are against this man; causing a three day delay in his travels for blowing him the wrong way basically. Truly the god of misfortune. p39

Well. At least he has some help now? Nan Feng and Fu Yao. Also I am curious about the butterflies? Do we find out more? Is it a heavenly official thing? because if it is, that's cute. pp41-42

The name change from Lower Court to Middle Court is so funny to me. This is some pure bureaucratic drama, like 10/10 would see this in an office. Honestly this realm would make such a solid office/workplace au. pp42-43

Oop. Nothing like your support being from the palaces that absolutely hate you. p43

Well at least they are both here as "willing" volunteers and their generals don't know they are actually there. I do however sense some shenanigans due to this pp43-45

Oh Wait! This mission sounds so rad! A bride eating monster?!?!?!? I can't wait p45

Strong start!

I already have so many questions that I am going to assume will be answered somewhere between now and the other seven books BUT I am so ready. We already got a workplace drama, an exciting mission, and this adorably useless little man trying his best. I cannot wait for chapter two!

[elainsgirl]

I just had to let this out: I was lurking on Elriel edits on tiktok and saw lot's of comments on why people prefer Elucien or Gwynriel and it's always one of the following reasons: it's too predictable, 3 sisters and 3 brothers, Elain doesn't deserve Az or can't handle his darkness. Always one of these.

Like they don't even bother to list as to why they want their own ship or have solid reasons aside from how they don't like Elriel so they like another.

It almost sounds like: Elriel isn't good so I want ... or ... ship.

It's amazing how most like/want their own ship because of their dislike for Elain/Elriel.

I can't wait for her book to come out so that Sjm can prove how all had been wrongly judging Elain's power and personality ❤️. How she has an amazing strength and is beautiful inside and out. How she is strong enough to handle Azriel's darkness, altough I think the main reason Azriel wants to be around Elain is because he admires and loves her light/her peacefulness.

I also want more to realize that Azriel has this domestic side which longs for the peace and quiet that Elain can offer in relationship. Them sitting in the garden and her baking bread while he taking it from her like the husband of the house. These are already shown to us. I just hate how people ignore that some couple are like this and if that is boring and predictable to you then maybe read some mystery romances that are less predictable as to who will end up with who 😬.

Elriel is so beautiful and underrated within the fandom that it hurts 🤧

They are all thropes together. Opposite attract yet also very similar to each other, forbidden love and pining/yearning, dark and light/ moody and sunshine, friends to lovers and maybe also love at first sight since we don't know much about their POV yet and to when exactly the attraction started. And I can go on and on

Hey anon 🫶

Saying elriel is too predictable is so funny because thats the point. You’ve successfully managed to pick up the foreshadowing Sjm was laying out, Nessian were predictable and obvious yet no one cared as much. 3 sisters x 3 brothers is literally fate and seems predestined which is the whole point of the acotar series. Idk I just think if you really hate the direction the series is going in you can always dnf instead of criticising it. It is a book from the fantasy genre which is often filled with cliches or repetitive plots. Im not even going to argue w Elain not being able to handle Azriels darkness- those antis just coddle elain and treat her as some oblivious child.

Most antis only ship Ga/El bcs they just dont like elriel. With the other ships they’re so undeveloped that you can shape them to be however you want which is 10x more favourable.

YES! I can’t wait for Elains book to change so many peoples minds about her and show how much of a beautiful strong character she is in her own way, a different kind of strength. Im hopinh Elains character makes more people opem to softer coded fmcs. I agree, Elain seems to offer Az peace and quiet. Two people that can just exist together, understanding and truly seeing the other the way no one else has. She isn’t afraid of Azriel, his powers or scars and he didn’t back down and act as though she was crazy during acowar. They’re not afriad of each other. I truly love how Mass wrote them to be & cant wait for her to explore them more. Azriel’s domestic side always comes out with Elain and its just the cutest watching the big, scary shadowsinger blush bcs of Elain, taking her out, flying with her etc.

Elriel truly have the best tropes, and I know more people would like them if Lucien wasn’t Elains mate or Elain was more Nesta/Gwyn coded which sucks but these same people will read the elriel book and maybe change their mind - and see the amazing couple they were missing out on for years 🤭

I think thats one thing im really intrigued to know - Elain and Azriels first impressions. What was going through Azriels mind when he smiled at Elain clutching her fork. What did Elain see in Az that put her at ease and made her ask him questions. There’s so much backstory for elriel that I hope Mass writes and gives to us.

[tuffin-tuffmuffin]

Just some thoughts on this. I agree totally with the positives, and some of the negatives. For positives, her ideals for every student to strive for greatness, her ambition to raise her rank and not letting her crush on Iruma handicap her, and her being an established character in the universe independent of Iruma. You hit the nail on the head and that's what I really love about her. But on the negatives, it's more of a mixed bag, and I think that ties in a lot with my own complaints about the pacing of the story. For the first hundred chapters, the story proceeded at a good pace, where a "long" arc was 15 chapters like the Battra Party or Walter Park. But as the series became more of a breakout and there wasn't the worry of being axed, the pacing slowed with arcs going longer, and if you weren't involved in the arc, those characters went by the wayside and then needed crammed chapters to make up for it. Harvest Festival and Heartbreaker especially took a looong time and introduced a lot of characters for screentime to juggle, so Ameri was pretty sidelined. Still, I think the biggest failure of the story for keeping Ameri larger-plot relevant was the Deviculum II, where the writing quality took a nosedive after the Break-In. Like, you can't give the exact same cop-out with the exact same execution (interrupting phone call) in back to back chapters and still call that quality writing. But Ameri was the reason Iruma was here, she hadn't played a big role in over a hundred chapters, she's a known fighter in a similar league to Asmodeus, *was one room over* but then suddenly disappeared when the action went on. Perhaps it was to focusd on Iruma, Kirio and Asomedeus but the result was that her chance to return to influence the plot was put on hold for another year or so, making the feeling of losing relevance a bit sharper. And that's a genuine failure on the writing side of things, and I hope that Narnia's story being tied in with Henry, Merize and presumably Ameri's will eventually make up for that. But in terms of personal character chemistry with Iruma, I do think the story writes some great characterization with that, and I wouldn't discount early story interactions anymore than I would discount early Love Trio interactions. Like mentioned, they really motivate each other, but it also means the ideals they hold resonate. Ameri wants a safe world so demons can pursue their ambitions, Iruma wants a safe world for his friends to enjoy, the benevolence is synergistic. It shows a personality and philosophical compatibility that's very important in relationships. Additionally, we do see a ton of things they enjoy together, exclusively together. Iruma loves reading First Love Memories just as much as Ameri loves being read to, and it's something they do regularly even offscreen. There's the baking, which has been largely a them thing. And the story doesn't shy from showing when Ameri and Iruma get excited, like at the Deviculum II, they smile and gasp in the exact same way like idiots with the same braincell. I think that shows a level of synergy that means a lot when the story shows it. Again, I do totally think the issue with the story is not giving a lot of the extra fluff. The chapters with Ameri do have Iruma on the mind, but also show off what Ameri does in her spare time like work out and her duties. And even the last two girls talk chapters didn't go into Iruma that much, none in the case of Nafra's reintroduction. I think for all the good writing she genuinely had and how Ameri's not the only one to suffer the effects of lack of screentime (how'd Balam's investigation mission go, hmm?), she gets the benefit of the doubt for her offscreen escapades, though we're eager to see those training arcs as well. Her relationship with Iruma has a few writing niggles, but has an incredibly strong foundation of mutual support, trust, compatibility and enjoyment.

Hello! I really like your character analysis from m!ik. I wanted to ask you what do you think of Amerie? And her influence on Iruma? And their relationship?

Great question! Okay, I’ll go in order of your questions since you have a few for me :)

Okay, so I have issues with how Ameri is written on the character, some of the few issues I have with Nishi’s writing thus far. But before I talk about the negatives I want to focus on the positives of Ameri and her character because I do think she has a lot of potential that I hope we get to see! Ameri is a classic capable but soft character type that we see in both her romance fantasies but also her deep care for her fellow students. She isn’t just a student president because of the prestige or power it could give her, it’s because her ideal is for every demon to be proud of themselves and their authentic selves. And this is a quality in her that I find deeply profound and beautiful. She’s proud of herself and she wants others to be proud of themselves as well. And what I like about Iruma and Ameri is that she encourages him to strive for more, more than he ever could have dreamed of in the beginning. And he makes her enjoy herself more rather than overworking herself. He makes her be still more, stop to appreciate the little things. She also has the power to inspire others, a nature born leader, and one that is willing to do anything for her fellow students. Not to mention she has given her fellow student council members a place to belong and by doing so, they have deep respect and loyalty to her. And for demons who are inherently selfish and idealistic, this says a lot. They aren’t with her because of her strength, they care for her and I think that speaks volumes in itself.

What I have a problem with is how much her growth is tied to iruma. I think in this Nishi failed at making her an independent character. For instance, we don’t get to see her work towards rank 7, which would help her in her main ambition. We know she wants to take over for her dad, but we don’t know why that’s so important to her yet. And we don’t get to see the steps she takes towards that goal. Her growth is her progress in her relationship with Iruma and I think that’s a let down. Like I said, I love how she inspires and pushes iruma to be a better version of herself. I enjoy that a lot about their relationship. But I don’t find myself interested at all in the romance aspect of the two, mostly because of how they met each other. The trope is that in so many animes and mangas (and the romance genre in general) have two characters run into each other and instantly fall for the other. They went for the trope, we had some laughs about it, but then it kind of just… stuck around? It’s making fun of the clique while also adhering to it and to me it just didn’t land. I think for the joke to work and to make the relationship flow better, the immediate attraction should have quelled and from there a more slow burn of feelings for Ameri. I think if she didn’t become so Iruma crazy so soon into the story, it could have made a more compelling relationship compared to the current one we have. Right now, besides motivating each other I don’t see much in the way of their relationship? I think it’s also hard because we see so little of her in the actual plot and story so the relationship feels like it’s going at a snail’s pace while also going too fast when we do get to see them interact again to make up for the lack of Ameri. It’s weird, they’ve gone on three or four dates (or at least, we can categorize them as dates even if both characters haven’t called it that) but at the same time it’s like nothing has happened for them. I guess besides Ameri realizing her feelings, Iruma blushing when hugging Ameri, and the talk with Henri. I wish the relationship was more friendship focused or the feelings took longer to develop. Because she’s a busy woman and she’s a year above Iruma, we don’t see her actively take part of the plot often and it just makes it hard to get to know more personal stuff about Ameri.

This isn’t to say I’m a Ameri x Iruma hater, I just don’t find their relationship a fun part of the story. I do also admit to having a bias for the love trio when it comes to Iruma ships. But I do hope that the relationship develops more in an in-depth way because I could see her and their relationship becoming more interesting if Nishi takes the time to write her (in my opinion) better.

[batcavescolony]

I feel like people aren't getting it. In. The. Books. Perseus. Jackson. Is. An. Unreliable. Narrator. This goes for everything he thinks. Percy loves his mother, so he writes her praises. In the show we get to see what Sally does from an outside POV not filtered through a child that idolizes his mother. It's not ooc for Sally to act like she does in the show. she's a single mother raising a neurodivergent, Demigod, and she's scared that when the Gods get to him they'll corrupt him. She's not suddenly a girl boss we're getting to see her for how she is.

[lexalovesbooks]

Also I love love loooove that the very first scene of book one is relos var and khaemezra in a bidding war for kihrin while he rapidly alternates back and forth between which of them is going to be less terrible for his life if they win because man if that isn’t a fantastic summary of the series as a whole.