#be careful what you wish for but also don’t cause this shit has been so entertaining

[evasive-anon]

Actually consumed by how much of Gotham War is just pure Monkeys Paw content. Fans are always making posts about how they want to see Dick hit enrage again, or how Bruce used to give Jason piggyback rides, how they want Bruce to call the boys his sons and say he loves them, or how they want to see Tim and Damian hug, and they gave us ALL of it. Just not at all how anyone intended.

[theriverdalereviewer]

people of tumblr. i have made my stunning return.

[henry7931]

Babe It’s Okay, I’m Bi

James:

This beautiful man right here is my girlfriend Chloe. It’s a very weird situation so let me explain, a couple weeks ago Chloe was in some strange science experiment accident that caused her to swap bodies with this guy named Derek.

And from what information we’ve collected this may be a permanent situation. As you can imagine she’s been pretty upset the last couple of weeks. And I’ve been trying to be the best to support her while she figures everything out.

It’s been a challenge for the both of us especially since we just moved in together a couple of months ago. We’ve been dating for a while but I think we’re at a point where I’ve been thinking about proposing which this just messed everything up. Well not completely I guess…

I have been holding on to a secret from her for years now and I don’t know how to say it. Not that I ever thought it really mattered until now.

The truth is really don’t care if she swaps back to her old body, I love her. Okay let just say it, I am sexually attracted to girls but I also like dudes. Specifically dudes like the body she’s in.

She or he is so freaking handsome! He’s tall, tan skin, has this really sexy stash, and I can’t get over his tattoos. So hot!

But I’ve been trying to walk a very careful line with him. And we still low key flirt all the time but I can see his hesitation.

Which makes me sad, I just wish I can tell him without hurting his feelings.

On the flip side, it would so help since every time he asks me something about being a guy I get extremely turned on. Like why are his balls itchy from time to time, why is it easier to pee standing up, and the boners!

I don’t know if he even notices but he’ll walk around with a hard on in our apartment and it’s everything in me not to reach out and dig into his briefs.

Which makes me wonder, when the hell does he jerk off? I know he’s been staying busy lately, I’m just curious how he makes the time.

He’s been hitting up the gym a lot and when comes home. He’ll kick off his smelly shoes, workout clothes, and walk around sweaty in nothing but his undies. Which I can’t help but stare.

And the hardest part is at night, we still sleep in the same bed.

It’s my favorite part because he will cuddle with me in his sleep. I don’t think he even notices that I let him. But every night I’ll something poking my back and then his arm will wrap around me. He’ll start humping me in his sleep from time to time.

But I need to get this off of my chest. This is probably going to be permanent and I desperately want my relationship back!

So tonight I’m going for it. I’m going to let him know that I’m into him.

That Night:

I get off of work around 6 and the second I walk through the door I hear a light moaning coming from another room.

I walk to the outside of the door and peak inside.

That’s when I see Chloe stroking it on our bed with his headphones in. I don’t think he can hear me.

I hear his voice, “James..” so softly…

Fuck, he’s jerking to pics of me.

“James… baby I want you so bad…”

I start unbuttoning my shirt and I kick off my shoes ready to jump in any second.

“Holy shit! James!”

All of the sudden Chloe grabs a pillow and covers his massive boner.

I grin at him and say, “You don’t need your cover yourself I was enjoying the show babe.”

“Oh shut up you’re just saying that!”

“No, I mean it,” I say walking over and unbuckling my pants.

“Babe, you don’t have to pretend for me. I know this isn’t ideal but—“

I immediately grab the pillow and pull it away. His dick is fully exposed and he has this shocked look on his face.

Before he can react, I grab his junk and say, “does this look like I’m pretending?”

“But… but… I’m a guy!”

I start fondling his junk just lightly tickling his balls.

“Yeah and I haven’t been honest with you,” I say leaning in to his face.

“Yeah?” he says to me softly.

“I don’t really care what body you’re in, I’m attracted to you. And sides, you wouldn’t be the first guy I’ve been with.”

“What the hell James!”

I start rubbing his cockhead and he lets out a yelp noise.

“Can we talk about this later? I’ve been waiting to do this with you for a minute now,” I say right before kissing his neck.

“Oh my! James that feels so damn good.”

I kiss down his neck until I get to his nipples.

I twist one of them which makes his eyes roll back into his head.

I kiss down his chest to his happy trail until I’m at his thighs.

“God you have the nicest dick,” I say to him.

He grins, “thanks I think I like it too.”

“Well I think you’re going to like it more after this.”

“Huh?”

I wrap my lips around his dick giving it a very sloppy kiss. I begin to take down my throat which causes him to moan even louder.

“Holy shit yeah I love having a dick!!” he lets out.

I stop for a sec to let out a giggle.

“You know this is going to change everything for our sex life right?”

“What do you mean?” He says confused.

“Well, I’m vers but we don’t know if you’re a top or bottom yet,” I say grinning.

His eyes get wide, “I mean I’m open to anything but will it hurt?”

“A little at first but we don’t have to try right now,” I say back.

I look over his fully naked lower half, it’s the first time I’ve gotten to see it this close.

I rub his thighs down to his feet. I look up at him and say, “hey can I do something?”

“Sure babe as long as you go back to sucking this,” he says holding out his hard cock.

I lift up his feet and bring them to my face. I take deep breath before inhaling them.

“Are you kidding me?!? You’re not just bi but have a foot fetish?”

“Well I wouldn’t go that far, you just have some sexy toes,” I say kissing them.

“Yeah they are nice I guess, even for a boy.”

I pull off my pants and boxers, we’re both naked now.

“Oh I’ve missed your dick babe!”

“Aw thanks!”

“Can I touch it?” he says reach out.

“I would love nothing more”

I feel his hands touching all over my junk. It feels so good. Thats when I got another idea.

“Hey since we both have dicks now? What if we 69?”

“I’m not opposed!”

Chlo gets on top of me and starts to lower his crotch towards my face. I can feel his lips touch my dick. That’s when I feel his mustache which makes he squirm at bit.

It takes us a second before we have a full rhythm down. I’m sucking and we start pacing faster before Chlo lifts his head.

“Oh my god! I’m about to cum!!”

And with very little warning, Chlo pushes his 10 inch dick down my throat and shoots so much cum out.

As he pulls out it’s dripping from my mouth. It takes a second to register but his cum tastes pretty good.

“That was amazing,” he says panting.

“Well I’m not done yet,” I say pointing at my eager boner.

“Well how a nice surprise for you.”

That’s when he does something I’d never expect. Chlo wipes a bunch of cum off my mouth and proceeds to rub it on the soles of his feet.

“Since you like them so much,” he says with a silly grin.

He takes both of his feet and wraps his toes around my dick.

He begins to move back and forth with them and it’s so hot that I can’t even take it.

His feet touch my dick for like 1 minute before I burst all over them.

I look at the cum covered toes and I can’t help myself from licking them clean.

I go grab us a couple of towels and walk back in to see my beautiful boyfriend laying in bed grinning.

“You wanna go somewhere for dinner?” I say to him.

“Nah let’s do take out, I’ll be ready for round 2 here soon,” he says patting at the bed for me to come back.

“Fuck, I love you!”

“I love you too, even if you forgot to mention the whole liking guys thing.”

“Well babe, what can I say? I’m bi.”

[bangtanficsforyou]

Hello, Love (JJK)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don't know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister's fiance wasn't it.

Warning: mentions of drug addiction, familial neglect.

A/N: Based on a movie 😏📸. Also, here's a post explaining why I disappeared.

Playlist | Patreon

“So you’re getting married tomorrow, huh?” the rhetorical question slips from your mouth with a smile. A smile that in every way looks, forced. 

You don’t know what you were thiniking. But a part of you, just wanted to have a conversation with your sister. Maybe you had hoped for it to be like one of those conversations. The kind that you’d see in movies, taking place between two sisters, when one is about to hit a big milestone. 

Maybe a little reminscing about the old days. A little recallation of the past times when you both got into trouble. Joking about the embarassing moments. A little laughter, a few tears and hearts filled with warmth. 

“Yes, I am,” your sister replies without bothering to look up.

You linger at the doorway for a moment and then realise how stupid you were. 

You nod, knowing very well that this is pretty much the end of the conversation–if you could even call it that. You let the door shut quietly and slip out of the room.

Tomorrow, your sister is getting married. Your elder sister, to be more specific. 

She is getting married to the man she loves, to the man she has been in a relationship with for seven years.

The man, who unfortunately happens to be the one you have fallen in love with, in the span of these last few weeks. 

Oh how did you get into this mess and expect it to result into anything other than heartbreak?

SEVEN YEARS AGO

The loud music playing through the speakers tempts you to join the ongoing celebrations. You look at the joyful faces of your family members and a smile appears on your face. Lord knows when you will be seeing them next.

“Please take care of yourselves,” you whisper, knowing very well that you should leave as quickly as possible.

However, your gaze lingers on one person in particular. Your father.  Oh, how you wish you could just hug him once before leaving. But that might not be a smart move. Your resolve might weaken on feeling his arms around you. No, you cannot afford that.

You take a deep inhale and turn away from the wedding celebrations. You march towards the exit gate with hurried steps. Your feet however, come to a halt when you spot one of your friends chatting with some guy near the gate. Shit. You turn away immediately and flee the spot before she can spot you.

Once you’re sure that there is no way for her to see you, you release a sigh of relief. You have no idea how you’d have explained the bags and luggage you’re currently carrying, had she seen you.

The thought of that makes you feel more urgency to leave this wedding venue. You look around frantically hoping that there would be some other gate. You do spot one, however, there stands your father’s uncle’s son’s son, who has seemingly found this to be the ideal smoking spot.

A few moments later, you come to the conclusion that there is indeed, only one way to escape this place. You need to climb over the wall.

You find a quiet place, away from the crowd, that has very dim lighting. You throw your bags over the wall and wait for the thud to confirm that your bags have landed on the other side. Then, you roll the sleeves of your shirt up and get ready for the difficult part; the climbing.

Thanks to your experience with tree climbing, you somehow successfully manage to climb the wall at your second attempt. However, it’s that wired fence that causes you more trouble than you would have ever imagined.

Somehow, it gets stuck to the back of your shirt in such an awkward position that you cannot even grab a hold of it properly. The only way for you to get your shirt unstuck would be to pull the piece of cloth hard enough. But then you cannot do that. It will tear your shirt and boy, where will you go and change now?

Slowly, very slowly, you move the shirt, hoping somehow, it would get freed from the wire.

Okay, so maybe a little this side–a little on the other–no, wait this is not–

“Are you leaving or are you arriving?”

A voice speaks, startling you to your very core. You look up and feel extremely relieved upon realising that this man happens to be someone who’s completely unknown to you.

“Well as of now, I’m stuck,” you trail off, hoping that the guy would catch the hint and help you.

Thankfully, he does.

He gathers a couple bricks that were laying around and tip toes on them for his hands to reach the wired fence. Despite not being able to see how the wire has gotten stuck in your shirt, his hand somehow still manages to do the job smoothly.

Once you’re free, you’re quick to get down. Dusting off your clothes, you pick your bags up. “Thank you, for helping me.”

“Considering that you got down on this side of the wall, I’m going to assume that you’re leaving.” He observes.

You look at him for a moment and then nod. “Yes, I am.”

“Do you need help with the bags?”

A smile appears on your lips at his words, as you think this guy is a little too nice for his own good. “Sure, that’d actually be helpful!”

Nodding he bends down to pick up the bags. He’s surprised when he realises how heavy your luggage actually is. “Damn, these are heavy.”

“I know,” you glance at your watch. “Let’s get going.”

It takes him a split second to process as you start walking immediately after the words are out of your mouth, without so much of a second glance at him. Your quick movements make him trail behind you, as you make your way through the playground which connects to the main road.

Having given up on catching up with you, he looks around and sees a bunch of kids playing football on one side of the ground. While the other side remains occupied with kids playing cricket. The scoreboard catches his attention as it reads “6 required from 3 balls”. That’s intense, he thinks.

His eyes remain fixed on the match as his feet continue to move. The bowler bowls and he watches with excitement as the batsman flicks it for a single. As the strike rotates, the scoreboard now changes to “5 required from 2 balls”.

The second last delivery of the match and much to his surprise, it’s a full toss. The ball connects right to the centre of the bat and goes straight in the air. His eyes follow the ball and he watches with a bated breath as he waits for it to be either a six or a four.

His jaw drops open, when the ball is caught–by you. You aim the ball straight at the stumps and before the runner can reach the crease, the ball hits the wickets, dismissing the bails.

“OUT!” 

A unanimous shout breaks out, celebrating the wicket. The tension breaks as the match is now in favour of the defending side.

Suddenly, the bags aren’t as heavy as they were moments ago and he rushes to catch up with you. “That was such a cool throw.”

“Thanks,” you shoot him a smile.

“Do you play cricket?” He queries, his eyes shining bright with excitement.

“I once used to. Nowadays, I don’t really get the time to play.” You shrug. “I love watching cricket though.”

“Did you watch yesterday’s match?” His excitement heightens.

“No I didn’t, but I did watch the highlights.”

“You missed one of the greatest matches of all times,” he shakes his head, emphasising his point with a dreamy smile on his face.

“I just don’t like watching ODIs,” you comment. “I think cricket matches should be of twenty overs. Four hours and the match is done.”

“I mean sure, T20Is are good, they are explosive in nature,” he agrees. “But nothing beats the longer formats of cricket.”

“Well, i am yet to get the hang of them,” you muse. “Maybe someday, I will get the hang of ODIs.”

“Maybe a India VS Australia match would do it for you.”

“Oh! I live for the sledging in India-Australia matches.”

“But then, the real spirit of cricket is in test matches! Five long days for one match and yet the match might be a tie. It really does test a man’s patience,” he speaks, his hands moving animatedly with each word. “Maybe that’s why they are called test matches, you know?”

“Kudos to the players playing these matches, because I do not have the patience to watch a test match. Can’t imagine playing it.”

“You should try watching a good bilateral series sometime, I bet you’ll like it.”

“Oh, I have definitely tried watching test matches before and I remember in half an hour, the scoreboard changed from 243 to 245. That was pretty much it for me.”

Your words cause him to cackle. “Maybe someday, you’ll realise the beauty of test matches, who knows?”

“Maybe. Someday.”

A brief moment of silence falls between the both of you.

“Who’s your favourite player, right now?”

“Has to be Steve Smith!” You claim proudly, without a second thought.

“Dude has got a bright future in cricket, that’s for sure.”

“I love how smoothly he hits those shots. It’s a treat watching him,” you add, your admiration for the young player visible in your eyes.

He hums and lets the conversation die as you both approach the main road, which is from where he assumes you’re about to take some vehicle to continue the rest of your journey. His assumption is proved right when you start waving at a taxi approaching towards the both of you.

“Airport?” You ask and upon receiving a nod from the driver, you start loading your luggage in the car. Once everything is settled, you get in as well. Locking in the door, you wave at him and ask the driver to get going.

He watches as the taxi sets to motion with a small lingering smile on his face. He is about to turn around and leave when the car stops and you poke your head out of the window.

“You want to tag along?” You ask loudly to be heard through the newly made distance between the both of you.

He is bewildered on hearing your words. “But the wedding---,” he points in the direction where the wedding ceremony is being performed, instead of completing his sentence.

“Are you the one who's getting married?” You answer with another question.

“No,” he shakes his head, eyes wide with confusion. How on earth are you saying this so casually?

“Then come along.”

He cannot see the whole of your body as only a portion of it remains poking out of the window and he has only known you for a very brief moment, but for some unknown reason he feels so sure that you must have shrugged as you said those words. And for some odd reason, with how casually you’re treating the situation, he feels the oddness of the situation fade.

“I cannot just leave the wedding like that,” he replies.

“Okay, then. Have fun.”

You do not sound disappointed at all. You sound just as casual, he thinks.

“Have a safe journey,” he yells, as you retreat back inside the car.

A faint, i will, thank you, greet his ears and he shakes his head to himself. You are something, he thinks with that same smile as he heads back to the wedding.

“Dude, I met a 8.5 outside!” He tells his friend the moment he’s within earshot.

His friend doesn’t look at him as his gaze remains fixed somewhere else. “Forget about an 8.5. Look there, there’s a literal 10 right in front of your eyes.”

He follows his friend’s gaze and it leads him to one of the prettiest girls he has ever seen, in his entire life. A ten indeed.

“Wow.” The breathless one word sentence escapes his lips without his permission.

His friend smirks at the reaction. “She’s the bride’s sister. She’s a model but is soon going to feature in some short films.”

The words barely register in his head as the girl locks eyes with him. Maybe he wasn’t discreet with his gawking, after all. What absolutely leaves him speechless, however, is when the girl gives him a shy smile.

The interaction isn’t missed by his friend as he whistles slowly, before murmuring, “Here’s to hoping you’re smart enough to understand what that smile means.”

[iamasimperyk]

Lonely -Rafe Cameron

Summery: Rafe finds you, a Pogue, crying at the beach.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Crying, Not proof-read, English is not my first language

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Part 2

Why was everyone around you in a relationship? It wasn't like you were desperate to get a boyfriend, but somehow it made you feel insecure that you didn't have one. You started to wonder why no one wanted you. Was it because you were ugly? Was it because you weren't someone who liked to go out and party? Or was it because you were too inexperienced?

You didn't want to bother any of your friends with your thoughts, and it wasn't like you had a chance to do so. Since all of them were in a relationship now, no one has time for you anymore. And that's how you found yourself crying on the beach on a Saturday night, alone.

You loved the beach and sometimes you also liked to be alone. From time to time you needed to think things through and just needed some alone time, but right now, you just wished for someone to hug you. You felt lonley and the fact that your friends and every other person on the island would be at a party right now, didn’t make things better.

Pogues and Kooks together at the Bonefire never ended good, so it was the perfect excuse not to go. At least that‘s what you told your friends. They didn‘t even question it, to busy being all lovey dovey in their relationships.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you thought about your friends. You were happy for them, but somehow you longed to feel the rush of a relationship too. You wanted to be kissed, held, and loved.

The fact that you were a little jealous of them made you even more upset. A good friend shouldn’t be jealous, but happy.

You were deep in your thoughts when a voice suddenly pulled you out of them, “Ey!”

You turned around, quickly wiping away your tears.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The one and only Rafe Cameron were walking towards you. The last time you had seen him was on the ship, where he nearly shot you.

“Oh, look who it is.” He gave you one of his famous smirks, now standing in front of you.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” You mumbled, not even looking at him.

Rafe caused nothing but trouble the last few months. He was the reason why the Pogues and you lost the gold. He was the reason why the Pogues and you lost the Cross. He was the reason why John B and Sarah had been missing.

“Could ask you the same question. Never saw you without your little friends.” He chuckled, sitting down next to you.

“Well, I didn’t want to attend the Bonefire, but they did.” You shrugged, looking at the sunset in front of you.

“Didn’t want to go either, too old for the shit I guess,” He sighed to which you let out a humourless laugh, “Rafe Cameron is too old to get wasted? Yeah, great joke.”

“Believe what you want, I don’t care, but at least I am not the one sitting here because my friends don’t have time for me anymore.” He hissed.

It wasn’t wrong what he said, but how did he know?

After he saw the look of confusion in your face he spoke up again, “It’s obvious that they don’t have time for you anymore. They are all dating now and you are the only single one.”

Once again, tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. "Are you observing my friend group, Cameron?"

He answered without any emotion, "Do I look like someone who cares about your friend group? It's obvious you're trying too hard to get their attention."

Why didn't your friends see your efforts when even Rafe Cameron did?

“But lucky for you, out of your little group of Pogues, I tolerate you the most," He said after a few seconds.

“Hard to believe since you wanted to kill me a few months ago.” You muttered, drawing little shapes into the sand.

“Oh, come on. I didn’t want to kill you, I just had to get back what belonged to me. The cross,” He started to explain himself, “But it doesn’t matter since I am a new person now.”

“I see, and why’s that?” You raised your eyebrows.

“My dad isn’t here anymore so I am the boss now.” He told you proudly.

“And you cut your hair.” You mumbled quietly, but he heard you regardless, “Looks more mature.”

You nod, “I like it.”

“Did Y/n Y/l/n just complimented my hair?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Why are you really here, Rafe? You saw that it was me sitting here. Why would you come anyway?”

"I left the Bonfire because it was shit, and as I was walking towards my car, I heard someone sobbing. At the Bonefire I saw your friends with my sister, but I couldn't see you. When I saw you sitting here, I knew that something was wrong," he confessed while scratching his buzzed head.

“I appreciate that you came down to talk to me, Rafe, I really do.” You smile a little at him.

It's hard to believe that someone actually came to look after you. Not just anyone, but someone who was supposed to hate you. This person had made your life a living hell for the past few months. Despite this, the last half hour has been the best you have had in a long time.

“Look I am not good with all this emotional shit, but you wanna tell me why you were crying?” He asked carefully.

“Promise me not use it against me?” You asked in the most innocent voice Rafe has ever heard.

He answered with a short ‘promise’ before you started to explain how left out you have felt the past few weeks.

As you finished explaining, tears streamed down your face while Rafe held you tightly.

“Thanks for listing, Rafe. I am sorry I ruined your night,” You wiped away your tears, your eyes puffy from all the crying.

“You haven’t ruined my night, Y/n, actually you made it a lot better. I would probably have stayed at home all alone, trying to drown my thoughts in whiskey.” He told you honestly.

"Better than listening to me whine about my friend's relationships," you said as you hiccuped.

He shook his head, "At least you feel better after telling someone your problems, and I got to hold you."

You smile up at him, “You are happy to hold me? A Pogue?”

He chucked lightly, “Who would have thought.”

“Well, I also didn’t imagine myself at the beach, lying in the arms of a Kook.” After those words left your mouth there was silence.

The two of you were staring at each other until Rafe leaned down. You closed your eyes, your lips were nearly touching when someone called out your name.

“Y/n, is that you?”

[anyarose011]

Christmas Time is Here {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: Christmas (FINALLY) has arrived! What better way to spend the day full of cheer than with your family (and the boy you previously didn't really care for until just a few days prior). It'd be better if you could spend it in Boston as well...

Part 7 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warnings: Making out, swearing, talk of sex, and jokes about pimping out one's father.

Heyyyyyyy, what's uppppp, it's meeeeee. So...okay, long story short, I got back from strudying abroad and have been using this summer to just readjust to America (it's been rough, low key). So I just want to apologize for the long wait, and I hope this chapter is worth it. Also, because the main characters in this story (reader and Angus) are minors, I WILL NOT be adding smut. Still, thank you guys so much for your patience!

Word Count: 6.4k

You thought you slept in at first, until you glanced at the clock on the nightstand and read ‘7:30am’. Groaning, you sat up, rubbing your face when the realization hit you: It was Christmas!

That’s what caused you to leap out of your bed and immediately look under it, pulling out the three horribly wrapped gifts in newspapers tied with a twine ribbon. Before you could do anything else, a light knock on the doorway made you flinch.

“Yeah?” You whispered.

“Are you decent?”

Giggling at Angus’ use of your words from last night, you said. “Not really, I’m still in my pajamas.”

“Get dressed, I wanna show you something.”

You snorted. “You’re not gonna kill me or something, are you?”

“No, but on an unrelated note, we’re going off campus.”

“Wait,” your face dropped. “seriously?”

He snickered. “No. It’s just in the theater.”

You shook your head. “Okay, I’ll meet you in the hall.”

His footsteps echoed outside, and you decided to give him his gift early. After changing into a long-sleeved shirt and pants, then your socks and boots, you slipped out of the door whilst hiding the present behind your back.

“What’s behind your back?” Angus immediately asked once he saw you.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” You teased. “It’s nothing.”

“Amy…”

Sighing overdramatically, you held out the gift. His eyes grew to the size of the moon (both things that you still think are beautiful) as he took it from you. “I…what is this?”

“Well,” you shrugged. “it’s a present, but you kind of have to open it to-.”

“-No, I mean…I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay, I don’t want anything.”

“Hey-.”

“-Ordinary people say ‘thank you’ and open the damn thing.” You smirked.

He mirrored your expression before tearing the newspapers. It was almost funny to you how Angus Tully looked as if his breath was stolen from his lungs just at the sight of Little Women in his hands.

“This is yours.”

“Well, it’s yours now. That’s kind of how gifts work.”

“It’s your favorite though.”

“Who told you it’s my favorite?” You tilted your head, as if challenging him.

You’d never seen a face whiter than the snow outside. “I-I, um, shit.”

“No,” you shook your head. “you’re telling me you kiss me so hard my lips turned blue in the kitchen-!”

“-Hey, hey! Shut up!” He tried to be serious but only ended up laughing.

“But you can’t remember what my favorite book is?!”

Taking a deep breath, Angus then said. “I’m sorry, okay?”

A smile pulled onto your lips. “Yeah, I’m just messing with you.”

“You’re horrible.”

“Thank you.” A giggle fell from you. “Oh god, I hope my dad didn’t hear that.”

“I checked his bed, he’s out somewhere.”

“Alright,” you shrugged. “escort me to the theater then.”

He grinned from ear to ear as he led you through the halls. Unashamedly, you were a bit disappointed; you wished he’d taken your hand. Still, despite the sun being out, to your knowledge, you were the only two people awake. You wouldn’t blame Mary for sleeping in, and it was Christmas, no way Danny would waste his time with you three; that man had family in Worcester.

When you and Angus made it to the theater, you both walked up the steps to the stage and after he set the book down on the floor, he leaned against the piano.

You crossed your arms, smirking. “Mr. Tully, you better not serenade me.”

“I’m not singing.” He tried not to smile.

“So, there is a God.”

“Quit it.” He snickered. “Sit down, I’m gonna teach you how to play the piano.”

Raising your brow, you said. “You told me you hadn’t played since you were ten.”

“I hadn’t taken lessons since I was ten. We have a piano back at home, so I still play sometimes.”

“Never here?”

“Never here. Come on.” he tilted his head to the bench.

Rolling your eyes, you sat down, placing your hands on the keys. Angus came to stand beside you. “Okay, you know the alphabet?”

“What the hell is that?”

“Perfect.” He scoffed, then pointed to the white keys. “So, you only have to know ‘A’ to ‘G’. If this,” he pressed the white key in the middle of the piano between two black keys. “is ‘D’, then what is this?” He hovered his finger above the white key to the right of it.

“E.” You said simply. “I do know that this ‘B’ key is out of tuned though.”

You reached over his arm and played the ‘C’ an octave above, bringing your face just a little closer to his. He smiled. “Okay smartass, you do know what the alphabet it.”

“Yeah, I just don’t know how to play anything, that’s all.”

Angus took your right hand in his hand (fucking finally), and brought your fingers to play the ‘E’ and ‘D#’ a few times before then ‘B’, ‘D’, ‘C’, and ‘A’.

“Know that one?” He asked.

“‘Fur Elise’.” You grinned at the name. “And you’re sure you wish I was your first kiss?”

He answered plain and simple. “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you decided to keep toying with him. “what comes next? And I’m pretty sure I have to use my other hand at some point.”

You expected a retort from him, but he only went behind you and grabbed your left hand. Gently, he pressed his fingers over yours, and guided you to slowly play the piece by Beethoven. It was peaceful to say the least; well, as peaceful as it could be while your heart was trying to beat itself out of your chest.

As his chest hovered against your back, you decided to soothe your own worries.

“Son of a bitch, you just wanted to hold my hand!” You teased.

The music stopped as he pressed his face against your shoulder while laughing. It should’ve made you uneasy how just at ease he was around you; but perhaps you both had already acted like this before you kissed. Perhaps, with only being around him for a week, you had come to know him as a close friend (even with how much you loathed him at first).

He took his head off your shoulder and looked at you, his nose practically against yours. “And what if I did?”

This was the part where you were supposed to say something smart in return and make him feel just a bit stupid. But…were his eyes always that brown and beautiful?

You were just a girl; no one should blame you for immediately throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

Luckily, unlike the night before, he was less surprised this time. His arms were around your waist, and whether he meant to or not, he pulled you down to the floor with him when his own legs gave out.

Still, even though the sudden shift of your body caused you to squeak out in surprise, your lips didn’t leave his as your hands soon carded through his hair, and his moved further down your hips.

“I don’t want to do anything more,” you said quickly between kisses. “I don’t want to do anything more!”

His lips moved down to your neck, one of his hands came back up to cradle your jaw tenderly. “Me neither.”

“Okay.” You answered, your voice slightly pitched as he kissed your neck. Angus laid you down as softly as he could on the stage and hovered above you; his kisses never leaving your skin. His hand found yours and held it above your head as he brought his lips back up to yours. Even with it being clumsy, nothing in your whole life had felt so…good.

You wondered just how anyone on earth could get anything done after being kissed like this for the first time.

Perhaps it is because they hear their father calling their name.

At the sound of your father’s voice echoing through the halls, you and Angus froze. With one look, you both immediately pulled away, and he got off you, sitting on the piano bench and putting his hands on the keys.

It was quite comedic how that was the first time you heard him play; and he was quite good at it.

Luckily, you managed to get up and lean against the piano the moment the door to the auditorium opened and soon slammed shut. Angus stopped playing, and you both looked up and saw your father, huffing as if to catch his breath from running around everywhere.

“Merry Christmas.” Were his first words, and after both you and Angus repeated his sentiment, he then asked. “Where the hell have you been?”

You shrugged. “Just here.”

His eyes traveled to you and then to Angus, who, like any nervous teen boy who’d nearly been caught after making out with the teacher’s daughter, waved. Your father simply nodded. “Well, come on. I have something to show you two.”

He left through the doors he came in, and after you and Angus glanced at each other, you both followed; Angus picking up the book of course. Your father took you both to the dining hall where Mary had been waiting, and proudly presented a frankly shabby Christmas tree with some wrapped gifts to you.

“No ornaments?” Angus asked.

“Oh,” your father sighed. “I’m sure we can round up some ornaments somewhere. Uh, now.” He picked up one of the gifts, handing it to Angus. “This is for you.”

The boy glanced up at him as if he handed him the best thing he could receive that day (next to your copy of Little Women of course). He tore it open, and it was revealed to be another book.

“‘Meditations.’” Your father read the title. “by Marcus Aurelius. For my money, it’s like the Bible, the Koran and the Bhagavad Gita all rolled up into one. And the best part is not one mention of God.”

Mary huffed, obviously not a fan.

“And this,” he handed her the other package under the tree. “is for you.”

She opened it, revealing another book of ‘Meditations’. “So, you just give this to everyone?”

“And.” He gave her the other gift under the tree; that being a horribly wrapped bottle of whiskey.

That got her to smile wide as she took it. Your father, grabbing the final package under the tree, then handed it to you. “Yes, it’s a book, no, it’s not ‘Meditations’.”

Smiling, you unwrapped it and stood absolutely still in shock before exploding into a cheer. “Where did you get this?! I couldn’t find even in Boston!”

“The day trip we took to New York for Thanksgiving? Found it while you wandered off in the bookstore.” He joked.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried.

“What is it?” Angus asked, looking over your shoulder.

“Maria,” you answered. “by Mary Wollstonecraft. She’s Mary Shelley’s mom.”

“Like, Frankenstein Mary Shelley?”

Oh, how much you wanted to kiss him just because he knew the author of a popular book. Still, you didn’t know how many men even knew a woman wrote one of the most iconic stories of all time. Still, your father and closest woman you had to a mother in years were watching you, so you settled on shoving him.

“That’s right; maybe you’re not that stupid.” Before he could verbally respond, you were almost out the door. “I got something for you guys, be right back!”

You felt like a little girl again as you ran through the halls and up the stairs into the infirmary room before taking the shittly wrapped presents off your bed. You slid down the main staircase railing before barging back into the dining hall where it looked like barely anything had changed.

“What was my time?” You asked your father, a huge smile on your face.

He gave a look. “You didn’t ask us to time you.”

“Happy Christmas.” You handed him his gift, then repeated the same action and sentiment to Mary.

Your father was the first one to open his, and a pleasant smile spread upon his face while holding it up to you; a coloring book of ancient Rome.

“How’d you know I wanted this?” He joked. He had perhaps almost every single book on Roman history, so you had to get creative.

You shrugged. “Oh, you wouldn’t stop talking about it, remember?”

Mary opened hers next, grinning from ear to ear once it was unwrapped. A pink pocket-sized prayer book. “How’d you know I lost mine?”

“Because you told me.”

She hugged you, pinching your cheek when she pulled away. “You’re an angel.”

“Oh, Angus,” Your father took the forgotten envelope out from under the tree, handing it to the boy beside you. “this came in the mail for you.”

He opened it, and glancing over his arm, you saw cash stuffed inside of the card with “Greetings of the Season and Best Wishes for a Happy New Year” printed inside, with the only written words being: “Love, Mom and Stanley.” Not any personalized notes or words of adoration anywhere to be found.

You wanted to squeeze his hand, give him any traditional sense of comfort; yet you weren’t ready to explain to your father and mother figure about the both of you…you weren’t dating, but you were something. So, instead, you merely pushed yourself against his side and acted annoying.

“Fuck, you’re loaded.” Mary scoldingly said your name, but you continued. “Well, he is! Yeesh, you should be paying off my father’s retirement if you hate him that much.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Emma Woodhouse.” You father rolled his eyes.

Angus, fortunately, snorted. “I’ll think about it.”

“Alright,” Mary placed her hands on her hips. “now who’s hungry?”

As usual, the four of you had a lovely breakfast; although, this time, per Christmas tradition, you each had a little piece of chocolate with your pancakes she made. When helping her with the dishes, you saw that only one Christmas cookie you left out the night prior had remained.

When the dishes were done, you and Mary pulled the men into the teacher’s lounge.

“So why are we being held against out will?” Angus joked.

Your father sighed. “It’s almost ten-thirty.”

“And?”

“Charlie Brown!” You cheered, plopping yourself down on the carpet in front of the TV to turn it on.

“It’s the one tradition we have each Christmas,” your father explained and lowered his voice to Angus and Mary. “and one I wouldn’t mind getting rid of.”

“If you want to go drink alone while reading Agatha Christie, go ahead.” You announced, not turning to look at him as you flipped through the channels.

Mary and Angus merely laughed, and you proudly sat down on the couch. Your father mumbled incoherently, but before he could take a seat beside you, Mary grabbed his arm.

“Now, now, come help me make popcorn for the movie.”

Sighing, he let her lead him out of the teacher’s lounge and into the kitchen. Angus soon sat where your father would’ve if not for Mary. You smiled.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” He grinned, and there was silence (as always) between the two of you. One that was broken with. “Thank you.”

You tilted your head. “What for?”

“Just…” He laughed. “for liking me I guess. Also, for what you said about the stupid card and everything.”

Smiling, you glanced up to see if your father and Mary were close by. When you determined they weren’t, you took his face into your hands and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, dumbass.” You pulled away, looking back at the movie as little children start to sing Christmas Time is Here. “Just don’t bitch for the rest of the day.”

He snorted. “I’ll try my best.”

And he did. The four of you watched the movie, and after that, you and Angus went back up to the infirmary and spent the rest of the afternoon reading. Definitely not kissing at all; for sure not.

When you weren’t reading, you were either talking about stupid shit-.

“I thought I heard somewhere that plants can feel pain, do you think that’s true?” You asked, looking up at him while you laid at the end of his bed, your feet by his head.

“…I just want to thank you for letting me peek inside your mind and to see how weird it is.”

Or, surprisingly emotional conversations.

Angus nodded as he laid on the bed, you at his side. “Yeah, I mean…I had a good childhood, it just felt…weird sometimes.”

“I get it.” You rested your head on his shoulder as you both stared at the ceiling.

Still, it was perhaps the longest and most intimate interaction you ever had with a person up until then. How strange it was with a boy you hated only days ago.

Hours later, Mary called you both down for supper (luckily what was reheated from the previous night), and despite there only being four of you, you felt less lonely than when you had at the party. You sat beside Mary, not minding when the smoke of her cigarette tickled your nose.

“Thank you Mary,” your father smiled at her once he was finished. “that was just lovely.”

“Oh, is that an actual compliment?” You never heard Mary sound so surprised. He sighed heavily, and you didn’t bother holding back your laughter.

Angus set down his silverware. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a real family Christmas like this. Christmas dinner, I mean, family style, out of the oven, all the trimmings. My mom always just orders in from Delmonico’s.”

Mary nodded. “She’s got the right idea. Next year, I’m ordering from Delmonico’s.”

“Anyway, thank you, Mary.”

She winked at him, then turned to you. “Well? You got something to say?”

You squinted your eyes mid-chew. After swallowing, you replied with. “The meat’s a bit raw, don’t you think?”

“Oh, none of that today!” She scolded you as everyone else giggled. “Ungrateful child on Christmas.”

“It’s great, Mary.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Your father rose a glass. “I’d like to propose a toast. To my two unlikely companions on this snowy island, to my lovely daughter, and to our absent friends and family.” There was a pause much obviously for your mother and Curtis as if they were at the table with you. “I realize that none of us is here because he or she wants to be, so if there’s anything I can do to make the holidays a little cheerier for any of you, just say the word.”

“Copenhagen.” You didn’t miss a beat.

“Try again next year, Josephine.”

Angus shrugged. “Boston.”

“Boston?” Your father wrinkled his nose. “Why?”

“Why not? I want a real Christmas. I want to go ice skating. I want to see a real Christmas tree with ornaments, not that stupid thing.”

That was what you couldn’t take (as a joke, obviously). “How dare you. You put some respect on that tree my father grew with his blood, sweat, tears, and other fluids.”

Whilst the adults groaned your name in disgust, Angus stared down at his plate, his body trembling with repressed laughter.

“You both said it was nice.” Your father reencountered.

“It is nice.” Mary defended.

Angus, after recovering from his amusement, continued. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Let’s have a real holiday.”

 Your father huffed. “We’re not going to Boston. It’s out of the question.”

“You just told the kids ‘anything’. So, if Copenhagen doesn’t work, then why not Boston?” Mary argued.

“Mary, we’re not allowed to leave campus or the immediate environs.”

Well, it was your moment to shine. Now, here’s the trick: Usually, the ‘puppy dog eyes’ only work on parents from the ages of birth to nine. Sometimes, but not in your case, it can go on longer into the early 30s (that is, if your parents are total pushovers, or you’re a master manipulator). So, what do you do instead? Well, if it’s with your father, you do this:

Glance at him one last time as if to make a final plea, but then act as if you already know the answer and look down as if you’re trying not to show your sadness. You cannot be angry at all, just sad and disappointed so that he can assume you’re judging all of his life choices that he had made previously to lead him to this.

…It’s not easy, but it certainly gets you what you want (…there was like a 76% success rate last time you calculated it).

“But,” your father sighed upon looking at you and Angus. “I suppose we could call it a field trip. A field trip would fall under the ambit of additional academic pursuits. There’s even a fund set aside for additional academic pursuits.”

Despite him looking annoyed, you had a feeling deep down, he wouldn’t mind getting out of Barton. Angus gleefully rose out of his chair.

“I’ll go pack!”

You knew you couldn’t chase after him excitedly, so instead, you focused on your father.

“Now wait a minute,” you scowled. “so you not only listened but also let him persuade you into having us go to Boston, but you didn’t even bother with Copenhagen? That’s really sexist of you.”

He sighed, exhaustedly saying your name. “You’re a smart girl, so you should know that there’s a difference between a ten-hour flight across the world, and a-!” Of course he stopped when he saw your shit eating grin. “…and you’re a smart girl because you played me like a fiddle.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you got up from your seat and wrapped your arms around him, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, papa!”

He waved you off with a smile as you gathered up your dishes and glass, then went into the kitchen and placing them in the sink. You dashed up the stairs to the infirmary, to which you were greeted by Angus’ arms entrapping you.

Laughing, you reciprocated. “Why’re you like this?”

“I’m just happy, is that so shocking?”

“Yes.”

He pulled away only to then cup your cheeks in his hands and bring your lips to his. You sigh into his mouth, kissing him back.

“Does it ever stop?” You asked between kisses.

“What?” He led you to lie on the bed.

“You kissing me all the time."

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare.” You meekly threatened, pulling him back down.

Neither of you started packing for another fifteen minutes; not until you heard your father’s footsteps in the hallway.

You surprised yourself by how well you slept that night. Usually, before an exciting day, you are restless. Yet, you actually jumped out of bed to get ready once your father came in to wake you up.

After a quick breakfast and an hour of waiting, the four of you were in the car on the way to Boston. A curse that you never thought possible is that you could not read in the car without throwing up; so, that forced Angus to read aloud (something that wasn’t a curse).

“‘That boy is a perfect Cyclops, isn’t he?’ said Amy.”

“That’s not what Amy sounds like.” You said matter of factly, laying almost flat in the backseat.

Angus sighed. “Well, she does today.”

“Mr. Tully,” your father looked in the rearview mirror. “is she implying that Amy usually sounds different?”

You grinned. “Yes I am.”

“Oh?” Mary arched her brow in interest.

“I’m not doing a voice.” Angus immediately retaliated.

Sighing dramatically, you stuck your bottom lip out. “Just this one line? Please?”

He stared at you as if you had him under a spell; either that, or your face was a monstrosity so terrible he couldn’t look away. It’s nice to think the first one. So, breathing heavily through his nose, he pitched his voice up.

“‘That boy ith a perfect thyclops, ithn’t he?’ said Amy.”

Needless to say, the car erupted into laughter.

You can’t quite remember what else was discussed between the four of you on that long drive. All you can recall is that you never once felt sorrow or pain from your mother’s absence. It was…lovely actually.

Soon, the car stopped outside Peggy Lamb’s triple decker apartment in Roxbury neighborhood. You hadn’t been there since you were thirteen for Thanksgiving. When, after your mother passed, Mary and Curtis invited both you and your father to dinner for the holiday. Then, just all of a sudden (much like Miss Crane’s Christmas parties), you stopped going.

“Here we are.” Mary announced.

“That’s an awful lot of stairs…” Your father trailed off.

“Probably icy too…”

Nope, not going to give your kissing buddy (what was Angus Tully to you? What were you to him?) a clue.

“Mr. Tully.”

“Right.” He nodded once he finally took the hint from your dad. He smiled. “Mary, can I help you with your bags?”

“Yes, please.” She smiled, and Angus got out of the car.

You leaned against Mary’s seat. “Mary, may I help you with your bags.”

“You may.”

You heard your father prod at just why you would want to go into the cold air and help Angus carry the bags but paid him no mind. You did though when it was Angus who asked.

“What’re you doing out here?” He popped the trunk.

“Mary asked me to help too.” You pulled out the large suitcase with all your strength. “She knew your noodle arms couldn’t handle it all.”

Scoffing, he took the hatbox and closed the trunk. “Seems like you’re handling it perfectly.”

“Of course, I am.” You did your best to hide the ache in your arms already forming as you led the way.

Mary, with her window rolled down, stopped you at the foot of the stairs. “Hey, why’s she carrying the suitcase?”

“She said she could handle it.” Angus replied.

“That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

“Yeah, Angus.” You taunted as if him only carrying the box was his idea.

This was certainly not the first nor the last time you’d make his jaw drop from your wittiness. Sighing, he held out his hand for the suitcase, and you traded it for the hatbox.

“And be careful with the box,” Mary called your name. “Knowing you, you’ll drop it.”

You just stuck your tongue out playfully and continued up the stairs, Angus lugging the suitcase. “What do you think she packed in here, rocks?”

“I’d tell you, but you’d make a joke about how much women need to pack even though ‘We’re only here for a few days’.” You said in an accent that any man with low self-esteem would deem offensive.

He scoffed, stopping on the first floor. “Yeah, maybe.”

You tutted. “Ah, ah, ah, one more floor up.”

“What?”

“Peggy lives on the top floor.”

Angus sighed all the air that was left in his body before taking a deep breath. “I should’ve let you carry the damn bag.”

“But ya didn’t.” You smirked, leading him, once again, up the stairs.

When you both finally got to the top, you didn’t even need to knock on the door before Peggy and her husband came out to greet you.

“Oh, my goodness!” Peggy wrapped her arms around you once you set the box down. “It’s been too long.”

You laughed, hugging her back. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

She pulled away, but still holding your arms. “Never apologize, honey. And who’s this with you?”

Obviously, she was looking at the scraggly, 6’1 white boy behind you. Still, smiling, you introduced him.

“Angus; he goes to school at Barton and has been spending the holidays with us.”

“Aw,” Peggy shook his hand. “it’s nice to meet you.”

He nodded, grinning. “Nice to meet you too.”

“So,” she looked at you. “where’s that sister of mine?”

You tilted your head over ledge, and she and her husband walked over, waving and calling Mary’s name. Peggy turned back to you.

“Well, it’s been great seeing you again. If you ever need anything, you’re always welcome here.”

You nodded, smiling unwavering. “I’ll keep that in mind. Have a Happy New Year.”

She repeated the pleasantries and hugged you one final time before you and Angus started descending the stairs. When you passed by Mary, wishing her goodbye, she stopped you.

“Not yet, now you’ve gotta help me up there.”

“Oh yeah,” Angus offered her his arm. “sure thing.”

You resisted. “I already said hi to Peggy, am I excused?”

“I guess so.” She sighed as if you annoyed her.

Happy with her answer, you hugged her tightly and rushed into the front seat of the car, enjoying the warmth. In the corner of your eye, you saw your father arch his.

“You and Mr. Tully seem to be getting along finally.”

Glancing over, you nodded. “Yeah. He’s still a bit of an ass, but he’s not so bad.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Time.” You shrugged, hoping your years of (somewhat) lying paid off. “I guess forcing us together for a week in the cold really helps.”

He hummed, turning back to look at the front as if there was anything eye-catching about the road. Thankfully, it didn’t take Angus that long to walk Mary up the stairs, and he was soon in the back of the car.

Your father drove into the city centre of Boston, and parked outside of the hotel you three would be staying at. Of course, you had a room all to yourself (although, you only had a single bed and not a twin, but you were happy nonetheless).

After twenty minutes of getting situated, the three of you went out to explore the city (a city the three of you had been to multiple times but was still just as beautiful as the first day you saw it). You went through more parks you could count, streets that almost all looked the same but still something unique about each of them; it was just nice enough to walk and talk with your companions.

“Alright,” your father lit his pipe after the three of you had lunch. “it’s about one-thirty right now, what’s one thing everyone want to do today?”

“I have two things.” You said.

“One for now, Josephine.”

“Brattle’s Books.”

“Very good, even though you already have too many. Mr. Tully, what about you?”

He shrugged. “Just ice skating, honestly.”

“Wow.” your father released his breath. “I must say, I am impressed with how simple both your suggestions are.”

“What do you wanna do?” You asked.

“The Museum of Fine Arts, of course.” He began walking. You and Angus sighed as if it was the worst convenience in the world. Your father defended. “Oh, quit your bellyaching, both of you! This is still technically a field trip. Okay, what’s the second thing you want to do?” He asked you.

“A milkshake and fries.”

“That’s it?” He wrinkled his nose. “That disgusting concoction, is it?”

“Yes, and it’s not disgusting, you’re just a picky eater.”

Angus chimed in. “It doesn’t sound that appealing.”

“Who asked you?” You questioned.

Your argument ended there as the three of you made the journey to Brattle’s Book Store. Just as you did in the car, you talked about nothing and everything at the same time; perhaps that’s why those little moments of transitioning matter the most to you.

When you made it to Brattle’s, you spent a little time inside the actual store, but more of it outside in the large empty space between the two buildings. It was like it was another floor on the old bookstore, several upon several shelves hugging the walls, and smaller ones creating aisles on the floor.

You primarily were by yourself, keeping a mental list of more books to buy for later, and lose yourself quickly in between the pages and old smell of them. You hadn’t even noticed it’d begun to snow until Angus was beside you.

“So, you’re telling me it couldn’t have snowed all the times we were indoors?” He joked.

You looked up. “Of course not, God’s angry at us.”

“Why?”

Smirking, you nudged him. “Kissing outside of wedlock.”

“The worst of all sins.” He played along.

“Above heresy, even.”

“Hi there handsome,” a woman’s voice penetrated the air. “got a cigarette?”

Neither of you wanted to turn around to see who she was talking to (or acknowledge her if she was talking to Angus). So, communicating with just one look, you stayed put.

“No, sorry. I smoke a pipe.”

Well, so much for staying still. At the sound of your father’s answer, both you and Angus turned slowly. A woman with red hair tied up in a messy bun wearing the ugliest shade of yellow and a raggedy fur coat graced your presence.

“How about a date, then?” She tried again. “You want a date?”

“No thank you.” He took the pipe out, smiling nervously.

“Oh, come on, let’s go somewhere warm!”

“Go ahead.” Angus teased. “We can wait here.”

Jaw on the floor, you couldn’t even say anything at first.

“See?” The woman stuck her hands in her pockets. “They can wait here, read some books. They don’t mind if daddy gets a little candy cane.”

“Thank you, but I never really liked candy canes.” Your father picked up a book. “Plus, I’m prediabetic.”

She scowled, and turned over her shoulder, leaving. Angus leaned over the bookshelf in between the two of you and your father.

“You know, if you do want a little candy cane, I won’t tell anyone.”

You swatted him, finally. “Stop trying to pimp out my father, you…you…”

“What?” He grinned from ear to ear. “What am I?”

“Papa, cover your ears.” You looked at him.

“Mister Tully,” he said instead. “for most people, sex is ninety-nine percent friction and one percent good-will. Call me old fashioned, but I place value on physical intimacy, and so should you two.”

“I never-!”

“-You know,” Angus interrupted. “if it wasn’t for your kid in front of me right now, I would’ve thought you never had sex.”

Again, you struck him; this time, enough to leave a bruise.

“Ow!” He cradled his arm.

“You know,” you used his words. “if it wasn’t for your mom sending you to private school, I would’ve thought you were a cheap, common whore.”

Instead of scolding you, your father laughed. It’s not as if he never did, it was always just...a rarity and almost a blessing to hear him be so carefree.

“Mr. Tully, cover my daughter’s ears, would you?”

Angus followed through and you let him.

“Believe it or not,” your father continued. “there was a time when the fire in my loins burned white hot.”

“You’re full of shit.” Angus snickered.

“No, the details would curl your toes.”

“Okay, then let’s hear.”

He shook his head. “Whatever happened between my wife and I is none of your business; especially our daughter’s.”

“She can’t hear anything.”

“Yes, I can.”

His hands left your ears, leading both men to laugh. Nothing more was (thankfully) said about your father and mother’s sex life. It was after another ten minutes outside when your father announced it was time to go; not before having to use the bookstore’s bathroom. So, that left you and Agnus by yourselves for the first time since arriving.

“You’re horrible.” You playfully kicked his feet.

“You hit me!”

“You deserved it. God, you’re such a man.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, with a smile, he reached into his coat pocket and brought something out. In his hands, he held a somewhat worn copy of The Little Prince, and two different colored ribbons.

Freezing where you stood, you could only stare at them. “What’s this?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Looking up at him, your parted lips couldn’t form words to express just the…surprise of it all. So, Angus continued.

“I bought it; the book at least. I found it inside, asked your dad for the money so I could get it for you, and that was it. The-the ribbons, I got one that was your favorite color, but then I remembered my mom would talk about how there’s some colors that look better in a girl’s hair, so I got one I thought-.”

You threw your arms around Angus and held him so close to you people would think you were using him for warmth. He froze at first before immediately melting into your embrace. You brought his face down to yours, kissing the tip of his nose before pulling away and taking the gifts into your hands.

“Holy shit…you’re too sweet.” You giggled, flipping through the book.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, you like it?”

“I love it, you idiot.”

“And if you find the book at your house when you go back-.”

“-I’ll keep this one too.” you cut him off. “You’re thoughtful, you know that?”

Angus stuck his hands in his pockets, kicking the snow at his feet. “It’s nothing.”

“Fuck you, it’s everything.”

“Well,” he shrugged, smiling. “since you said it so eloquently.”

You rolled your eyes with a playful grin, then held up the colored ribbon he deemed (and was correct about) would look good in your hair. “Can you put this one on, please?”

“Uh, yeah,” he cleared his throat. “sure.”

You handed it to him, turning around. It wasn’t the first time he put his hands in your hair, but this time, with your back to him, it felt strange. Strange in a good way, but perhaps there wasn’t anything sensual about it, it felt that way.

And it was nice.

The feeling of it anyway; other than that, he had no idea what he was doing.

“What do you want it as?” He asked.

“Half-up, half-down.” You took a hair tie off your wrist, holding it our for him.

“What?”

“Like, instead of an actual ponytail, just make the top of my hair one, and leave the rest down.”

You didn’t even have to look at this man to know there was nothing going on inside his head trying to figure out what the hell you just said.

Thankfully, your father came out of the store.

“And what’s going on here?”

Angus looked over his shoulder. “I uh…”

“Step aside please, Mr. Tully.”

He did, and your father snatched the hair tie you were holding. “Half-up, half-down?”

“Yes, please.” You nodded.

“Do you know how to braid hair, Angus?” He asked, tying the hair tie around the ponytail he made.

“No.”

He hummed disapprovingly, sliding the ribbon into the hair tie and beginning to make a bow. “You should; it’s quite an important skill for a man.”

[cuppajj]

Thoughts about BY 5 and 6

So I finished the episode at an unhealthy morning hour, and now after getting my full sleep, I can fully share my thoughts!

And of course, spoilers for the newest episode!

First things first, I want to talk about Burning Spice himself. A while back, I made a post about my hopes for him and how I didn’t want him to be a temperamental meathead, but instead a smart and calculating person who took from his extensive knowledge of history to psychologically destroy as much as physically. Did we get that?

Kinda, kinda not. Spice isn’t another Purple Yam like I’d hoped, he has more character than being just angry, but the hotheadedness does remain most of the way through. He reminds me of a strongman anime villain, the kind whose braun speaks more than brain, but still capable of strategy. Most of that strategy comes from Nutmeg Tiger though, as Spice is mostly interested in fighting Cheese from beginning to end. There’s no moment where he messes with her mind directly and picks apart her vulnerabilities beyond surface level “you hold things dear to you that I will destroy”. Which, implication is that he was more focused on just fighting, which in the context of how/why he is the way he is, kinda makes sense.

And about that, I’ll address it briefly: So we learn that Spice’s corruption, at least the straw that broke the camel’s back, was that he got bored watching history unfold. I think it’s very cool! While I was interested in a little more nuance behind his boredom, sometimes villains don’t need a complex reason for why they do what they do. It does make Spice less sympathetic than Mystic Flour though, so it seems like not all Beasts may be equal in cause and backstory. However, stuff about him may be explored later, since he’s going to be back.

So I would say that Spice isn’t as one note as I’d hoped, but he is a simple villain. A simple and very very fun and scary villain, but there could’ve been a lot more to his character in this story that made it lacking for me. I know BY chapters are usually short, but there could’ve possibly been more time showing the parallels between him and Cheese beyond a dialogue or so. It would’ve been really cool if Spice addressed those directly, using it against Cheese. Making her rethink/relive the trauma of losing everyone and mentally destroying her… like what if there was an exchange in the prison cell when she was at her lowest? What if Smoked Cheese had either been incapacitated and unable to speak, or in a separate cell so Cheese could be entirely at the Beast’s mercy? (We DID get a bit of that when Cheese realized how apathetic he was and what he saw in her soul jam, but that was more of a disgusted shock than a mental breakdown.) Smoked could help her out of her turmoil later (an exchange between him and Spice could’ve also been awesome), but Spice leaving mental damage on Cheese would’ve further spread the idea that he also values breaking things internally.

But, I guess Spice is just destroy destroy destroy to the point where he doesn’t really care about anything else, which is… fine. Admittedly not my cup of tea because it’s so basic, but it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy his motivation. I hope we get a little more nuance next time we see him.

Anyway love these sprites!! I wished we got more related to the first two, it shows a mellower and/or ironically colder side of him that I think would’ve really helped amplify his fear factor. Spice is all fun and destruction but the oh shit comes from him showing more of the calculated side he used to have.

But speaking of Golden Cheese, I’ll talk about her next.

Overall I really liked her story here! I love seeing her in action and on her own, and her interactions with Smoked Cheese were fun to see! Smoked Cheese was extra fun, I loved how he had sass while still caring for people beyond his kingdom’s entourage (his voice and mannerisms remind me of tfp knockout it’s crazy). I was also happy to learn how the soul cheese worked, since that was a question I had from last episode. It appears Smoked isn’t in his body, but his soul is projecting a physical form given mass that relies on Golden Cheese’s power. Very interesting, and I wonder if he’s just going to stay out now, or if he’ll return? And what of the others too…

Now, something I will say about Cheese is that while her character arc made sense for her in a bubble, I feel a similar thing like I did with Spice that it could’ve been much better. Personally, while Cheese staying true to her greediness and immense care for her treasures is a good thing to power her up, I don’t think it made her as bigger a person than Spice than she could’ve. What would’ve been cooler and more thematic for her character would’ve actually been accepting that destruction and the loss of things she cares about is a natural part of life.

What I mean by this is that while Spice embodies destruction, Cheese essentially embodies creation, which are two polar opposites that have their place in the universe. Antagonizing one or the other should come with a deeper approach to the message, and frankly, antagonizing destruction in its entirety is a very black and white angle. Destruction can be inherently bad and tragic, yes, but it can also pave the way for new life and new things to be created. Plantlife grows back after a forest fire. You can build something better upon the ruins of what was before. For Cheese, her kingdom could’ve been lost/destroyed, but she could’ve accepted it and strove for a newer and better kingdom. Which, in some parts she did, but my philosophy also applies to people lost too.

Death and destruction was a prominent theme in Cheese’s backstory, and much of her Golden City arc was confronting that. I suppose this is a separate talk for another time, but to put it simply, she didn’t have an arc about accepting those who were lost, moreso about striving to bring those who were lost back. The story ended with her promising to bring her friends back, instead of accepting that she lost them and focusing her strength on protecting those she still has with her. That last part could’ve actually been what the Spice story led to, with her first wanting to find a way to bring everyone back, but deciding by the end of it that she can protect the memory of her kingdom along with the living friends she still has. Smoked Cheese could’ve even helped her with that, showing that he cares for her over himself, leading to a heartfelt goodbye between the two. This is just a wishful image, but it would’ve been a really good way for CRK to tackle a deep theme and touch a lot of people’s feelings. But what we got was a lot simpler, with both Spice and Cheese’s characters and themes, which I guess makes sense. Some stories (or the game itself) don’t really want to be anything super deep in narrative, and that’s fine as long as they’re still fun, which this was.

Lastly I will say, I fear the awakening thing will get a little predictable and repetitive from here on out. Beast is a threat for the first chapter, continues to be a threat up until Ancient does a power of love and friendship introspection and transforms into a stronger version of themself. I hope one of them will be a little subversive in this—I don’t know how, I just hope these great stories aren’t bogged down by predictability!

But anyway, those are my thoughts about BY 5 and 6. Overall a great story, I’m so happy to get Spice and Cheese action because they’re two of my favorites, Smoked Cheese was fun, and I’m looking forward to the new Shmilk stuff we will be getting around the anniversary. After that I really hope Eternal Sugar is next, I have a bunch of thoughts/hopes for them too!!

Anyway thanks for reading!

[rintoorou]

ALOHA, HAWAII — i. family ties

(wc: 1,055)

more than fifteen minutes had passed since you and the forty-something-year-old you bumped into had been arguing back and forth about how to settle things. while you sincerely apologized and expressed your willingness to pay for compensation earlier on, you certainly weren’t going to let some old man in a cheap suit take more than what was needed from you.

“does that look like a simple scratch to you, officer? i need—”

“it does, sir.”

“—around a hundred thousand yen to have this fixed!”

an annoyed scoff slips past your lips, and the older man turns redder at your outburst. frankly, you don’t care. “that’s almost three times more than what’s enough,” you glare at him, “half of that is a completely new paint job. i’m not stupid.” 

he raises a brow, “no, you’re just a kid.”

“this kid knows her shit. i’m not paying you that much.”

the man standing a few feet away dissolves into another fit (tantrum), causing you to roll your eyes. i’m seriously going to spear this umbrella at him if he doesn’t stop. 

just as your grip on the umbrella tightens, a sleek black vehicle stops beside your car. you tilt your head in confusion as one of the tinted windows rolls down, revealing a mop of bright orange hair you were quite familiar with, "hinata?"

he says your name back with a huge grin, and another man, whom you recognize to be another one of msby's star players from pictures, pops out from behind him. you and hinata became acquainted a while back after kenma invited the both of you to play a game with him on stream, but you don't recall ever meeting the second one once. he waves at you with excitement, but you remain standing, clueless. 

"oh? is that your car?" hinata’s eyes widen in shock as he points to the scene in front of him. you nod, nervously tugging your bottom lip in between your teeth. you feel a little bit embarrassed that kenma's-friend-slash-pro-volleyball-player had caught you in such a state. he asks you something but the sound of the rain drowns it out, "i can't understand what you're saying!"

their car then carefully maneuvers behind yours, just beside the sidewalk. you head over to their side almost immediately, ignoring the protests of the old man behind you. "are you also going to the fundraiser? i heard kenma's there," hinata quips, leaning forward, and you step closer so the umbrella covers the both of you. "yes, i am. i’m just dealing with,” you gesture to the mess in front of them, “this." 

"what? but then you’d be more late than we already are. how about you ride with us?" he gives you another toothy grin and you almost feel bad for wanting to refuse. before you could politely turn the offer down, hinata is pulled back by his teammate, "we have room for one more!"

“oh, um…” you glance back and forth between them and the now-angrier man next to the traffic officer, “thanks for the offer, guys, but i drove alone. i have to get this settled. you can go ahead.” you give them a tight-lipped smile before walking back, starting to wish you had brought a driver instead. 

“(—).”

the call of your name makes you halt in your footsteps. slowly, you turn around and almost flinch at the set of dark deadpanned eyes staring at you.  

“kiyoomi.” 

"who bumped into who? you or the geezer?"

his straightforwardness has you slightly taken aback, "i did. i didn’t press on the breaks hard enough and bumped into him, but it’s just a little scratch…” you trail off near the end of your sentence, watching as he wordlessly exits the vehicle. he takes your umbrella from you, but not before telling you to get inside the car. 

hinata and his grey-haired friend scootch over to accommodate you, but the three of your gazes trail after kiyoomi until he reaches the traffic enforcer and the stranger you bumped into.

"how do you know omi, (—)?” hinata asks, leaning back in his seat. you keep your eyes trained on his teammate, “we’re cousins, but we’re not that close.”

“oh, that’s why you have the same family name! i get it now,” you finally tear away from the scene in front of you and watch as hinata taps his chin, thinking. you know you’ve got another question coming, “so you’re attending the wedding then?”

shit, what are you supposed to say? you haven’t come up with an excuse yet and you’re here with the friends of the groom himself. you wince on the inside; you’re starting to think continuing your argument with the old man was the better option.

thankfully, the male beside him doesn’t give you a chance to reply, “of course, hinata! they said all family and friends are invited.” never mind.

you don’t bother to think of correcting him as the door to the passenger’s seat opens, kiyoomi settling in immediately afterwards. the grey-haired one, bokuto (you remember now), eagerly questions him about what he did after he left the car not more than five minutes ago.

“just settled an agreement. a driver will come to pick your car up, (—),” you don’t know what to say yet, but he was as curt as you remember. the last time you saw him was at a family dinner, celebrating his high school graduation, but all you really told him was “congratulations” and “where are you going for college?” you think this is the first time he initiated an interaction with you. 

a beat of silence had passed, and instead of protesting, you say, “thanks, kiyoomi.” 

you hear him hum in acknowledgment before giving a 'go' sign to the driver. the car starts moving forward and the pair beside you quickly engages in another topic, entering their own little world.

a phone rings from the front and you realize it’s your cousin’s. his greeting tells you it’s a call from his sister, followed by the words: plan and wedding. you still in your seat, opting to stare outside the window and busy yourself with the rain droplets racing towards the bottom. you feel thankful that kiyoomi saved you, but you’re praying he doesn’t bring up the wedding.

intro — masterlist — next

notes wasn’t initially planning to start with a written chapter, but i wanted to show this side of sakusa and reader! i love writing family tropes so i’m gonna touch a bit on how their relationship progresses too throughout the au

tags @ilyless @strxwberri-s @bbybibi @milesmoralesluvs @hanniemylovelyquokka @nbcvs @crispchocolates @atlasnessie @cnnmairoll @trash-master-3000 @tojirin @ryuverse @megumiif @chemiru @theycallmenanamisgirl @neoclb @krissiekris @nyxlai @tsukiran @frvppe @kr1nqu @kunihaver @toges-cough-syrup @myromanempiree @baskin-robinhoods @jeongintwt

[tinyarsonist]

Hi

Can u make a Chan fic based on these lyrics?

“We don’t gotta be in love, no,

I don’t gotta be the one, no

I just wanna be one of your girls tonight”

It’s The Weeknd, Lily-Rose Depp and Jennie’s song and it’s stuck in my head. All I can imagine is Bang Chan and a female idol having a one night stand

This has been sitting in my ask for some time. Mainly because I was working on Volume: Down, but also because I lost some interest in writing all together. But seeing this in my box again made my mind go 'brrrrr', so I thank you for getting me back on the horse (so to speak). Channie photo for tax.

TW under cut

TW: Fem!reader, PIV, Condom use (wrap it up), Blow job, fingering, let me know if I missed anything!

A whirlwind.

That was the only way to describe your encounter with Chan. One minute, you're in your dressing room--Chan leaning one arm on the doorway frame with that shit eating grin of his to wish you luck on your upcoming time slot--the next, you're pulling him in by the collar of his shirt and slamming the door shut. In a flash, you were pressed against the door, his mouth on yours. Hungrily, taking what he could without ruining your makeup.

Much.

"Eager?" You teased as his hand went to unbutton your top. Pausing briefly to take in the lacey bralette you had underneath, that supple skin bunched up together by the fabric that he desperately wanted to rip off with his teeth. You took note with the way he licked his bottom lilp before pulling the fabric down. Your breasts now exposed for him to take in his mouth. His tongue licking in an upward motion on your nipple, causing your head to roll back on the door. One of his hands massaging the other as he free hand traveled down to clip past the hem of your underwear, underneath that skimpy skirt that caught his eye in the first place, to cup you. Smirking against your breast as your, very apparent, arousal coated his palm.

"You're one to talk," he smiled back as his lips left you for a brief moment to watch your eyes close as he inserted a finger in your core. Taking in the way you gasped slightly as he started up a gentle rhythm to warm you up. His palm applying the right amount of pleasure on your clit as he worked his way up to a second finger to stretch you out. Your giggles filling the dressing room as Chan buried his face in your neck to plant small kisses to help ground you.

Even as a quick fuck--Chan was ever the gentleman.

"So wet from just a little kissing," he nipped your pulse poiont as he kept up the pace. When he spotted you during your rehearsal time--he knew you would be responsive. And it filled him with great pleasure that you were so much more than what he initially thought. That pleasure going straight to his hardening erection that he kept pressed to your thigh. Not even having to rub against you--your little gasps, the way you clenched around him, the way you wrapped your arms around his neck to tug at his roots--was doing more than enough for him. "Your fault," you panted as you ground your pelvis around his. Earning a hiss from Chan.

As he kept up his rhythmic motion, your hands found the silver button of his pants. Freed from his confines, Chan helped shimmy the fabric just below his cheeks, his member settling snug between the two of you. His pre-cum smearing against your skin.

"You ready?" He asked as he withdrew his fingerse to pull a condom from his back pocket. You almost argued--wanting to use your lips to return the favor. But Chan had another idea. Placing the small plastic between your mouth, he gave a simple command; "Bite."

You gingerly took the plastic end between your teeth and tilted your chin to tear it open. Careful to not rip the latex inside. Chan's eyes never left yours as you did so. Licking his lip once again to take in the seductive sight, and the anticipation of what was to come.

"Tell me if it's too much," he panted as he rolled the condom onto himself. Chan's free hand gripping the meat of your thigh to wrap around his hip. "A bit cocky much?" You teased as he experimentally rubbed against your entrance. Chan smiled like an absolute mad man as that sassy grin fell from your face as he pushed his tip in without warning. The stretch stung, but boy did it hurt so good.

He started off gently, allowing you some time to get used to the fell of him. To warm you up until he was able to bury his hilt in your warmth. Chan reveled in your small 'ahs' that started to built with every thrust. "Cocky enough for you?" He grinned, hoisting your other thigh up to lift you fully off the floor and firmly agains the door. Enjoying your little hiss as he was, somehow, able to find an even deeper part of you. However, that was short lived as your hand found its way back to the nape of his neck, tugging at his roots harshly, and tiliting his head back. Chan's hips slightly stuttering as his eyes locked with your predatory gaze.

"You talk too much."

By all that is Mighty, Chan was glad tha tyour crashed your lips against his to shut him up. His moans mixing with yours as the force of his thrusts were rattling not only your soul but the poor door that had the duty of sustaining the force of this impromptu quickie. The noises escaping growing louder, and with every sharp breath you took in, Chan could feel you clenching around him. The wave about to consume you.

"Faster," you broke away from the liplock to please. "Chan, please--I'm--"

"I know," Chan panted next to your ear. His hips sped up at y our request. Desperate as he was to come, he could only imagine no greater pleasure than to feel you unravel around him. "I know, baby, I know."

Chan kept his relentless pace. Planting small kisses here and there, telling you how much of a good girl you were being. How nice and wet you were just for him. How no one else would be able to fuck you that way that he does.

Your forehead pressed against his as the waved crashed through you. Chan had to do his very best to not come right after as he felt your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" your chanting graced his ears like a prayer. Part of him wishing that he was somehow recording it. Not that he would need it per se, Chan knew that this moment would be forever engraved into his memory. There would be no way of forgetting the vice grip your cunt had around him--nearly pushing him out entirely.

Once your spasms subsidded, Chan placed your feet back on the ground. Pulling out of you and taking off the condom, pumping his shaft at a quick pace, fully set on the idea of completing in his own hand, until you slinked to the fllor. Knees making contact with the wood paneling as you blinked your eyes up at him and opened your mouth--tongue lolling out.

Chan realized right then and there that this had to be a one time thing only. If not; you'll be the death of him.

You didn't fight back as Chan guided the back of your head to take him all in one go. Tears pooled at your eyes, but you pushed through it as he used you, willing your throat and jaw to go slack as much as they could. Eyes locked on his the entire time, only allowing yourself to close them briefly as that tangy load hit your tongue. Moaning as the warmth you were craving finally graced your tastebuds. The door behind you rattling one last time as Chan's closed fist made contact with it to steady himself as his hips spasmed while the intense wave rose its course.

He watched with that signature grin of his as you rose back up to your feet. Some of his cum on your lower lip, which you happily licked off with your tongue. If Chan hadn't already tucked himself back into his confine, he would've asked for another round.

The two of you took some time to gather yourselves. Hair a mess,, lips swollen, you even had to help apply some concealer on the back of his neck and shoulders to hide your claw marks. Even though Chan didn't mind; a proud war wound that he was willing to wear on display.

But as the two of you worked in silence, it was clear; time was coming to a close.

Chan grabbed you by your waist and pulled you in for a quick kiss. Mindful to not ruin the gloss you just reapplied. "Knock 'em dead," he whispered against your lips before bringing his palm down your ass as you made your way out of the dressing room.

He was smart to wait a moment or two before slinking his way backstage with the rest of the performers. Everyone was crowding around the viewing screen as the stage hands helped you get set up. To the rest of the world, it seemed as if nothing happened in your dressing room. But, as you got on your mark and licked your bottom lip, trying to calm your nerves and lick up any remaining residue of Chan's release, that devious smile of yours grew.

And so did Chan's dick.

AN: again sorry it took so long! Hope you enjoyed it 😊

Tags: @evasmlp @nurihihi @darthmads25 @acker-night @ayyonoona @donut-crazs

Please see my tag post to be added or DM if you'd like to be removed

[edenfenixblogs]

Shut up you genocide supporter

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA PALESTINE WILL BE FREE

So, just to be clear, I made a post specifically explaining that I hear this phrase as a call for my death personally. I hear this phrase as a call for the death of all Jews to be murdered and denied burial and to be shoved into the sea and provided examples as of why. And I received this in my inbox less than a minute later.

I also explained explicitly that I believe Palestinian people have a right to use this phrase and reclaim it from terrorists who took it from them. I explained that my ultimate goal is peace for Palestinians and for Jews. I explained that I wish for Palestinians to live as full and equal citizens in their homeland. I explained that anything that does not contribute to this goal of peace is causing active harm to Jews as well as deepening the conflict going on right now.

Given that information, you chose to send me this.

So you want me to die? You want to kill me, a Jewish person who does not live in and has never been to Israel? You want to kill all Jews?

Hmmm…it sounds like only one of us actually supports genocide, and it sure isn’t me.

Next time you want to tell me that you want me dead and want to kill all Jewish people, you can just say that. There’s no need to pretend you’re helping Palestinians at the same time.

PS: to all the goyim who replied to my recent posts that they support Jews and abhor antisemitism—now would be a good time to show support.

Jews cannot continue to receive this kind of targeted harassment in the name of people who claim to support peace. Standing up to antisemitism means loudly and clearly denouncing this. And if you don’t do so, I’m just gonna assume you stand with @pata-hikari, who wants me dead.

I have made it abundantly clear that I don’t support the violent response to the 10/7 attacks. I have made it abundantly clear I want freedom and equality for Palestinians. It’s time for y’all to make it abundantly clear that you understand that this message was a death threat. That people are using a phrase coined to promote hope and peace and liberation to threaten (another) mass Jewish slaughter. Do you care about me or not? Stop fence sitting or choosing sides. Fight for peace or stop pretending to be my friend and ally. An ally doesn’t stand idly by while someone they claim to support gets death threats.

Again, I don’t want ANY violence. I don’t want anyone to attack this person. What I want is to stop having to deal with this shit every day. What I want is for people to be as loud in their opposition to antisemitism as they are for Palestinian self determination. What I want is to stop having to be regarded as a good guy or a bad guy. I just want to be a fucking person and I want PEACE ONLY.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part Three

Part One, Part Two

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After an unexpected visit to Tannyhill, you stalker comes up with a plan to make you his. But, will you be able to execute it just as he planned?

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 4.5k

Author Note: Part Three has arrived! I still am unsure if I like where the story is going, but we'll see. Also I'm getting so IMPATIENT and horny while writing this and it's literally killing me. Please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on this story. I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!! Stay freaky y'all.

CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!

“Okay, you remember the plan, yeah? You know what you’re supposed to do?” Rafe speaks as you look out of the passenger window of his truck. 

You turn back to face him before speaking. “Y-yeah I know.” You nod, turning back to look out of the window and at your house across the street from the parked truck. “I have to tell them…” You pause, getting choked up. “I have to tell them that I’m moving out.” You turn back to look at him, your eyes watery. “I can’t…they’re gonna know–”

Rafe clenches his fists around the steering wheel and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “No, baby they’re not gonna know. Because you’re not gonna let them know, alright? And you sure as shit aren’t gonna try anything are you?”

You frantically shake your head, “No…no I’m not gonna try anything…’promise.” You pause. “It…it’s just…what if they don’t believe me? I can’t–I can’t tell them I’m moving out with someone I’ve never even mentioned to them.”

“Hey…hey, you’re an adult yeah? They can’t do shit baby. They don’t have a choice, you’re mine.” His words cause an icy shiver to roll down your spine. Though even you know that your parents aren’t going to protest you living with the richest, most successful man in the Outer Banks, besides from his father…which everyone has heard about. The saint turned murderer who died last year. Like father, like son, you think to yourself. The incident was all over the news, you’re surprised you didn’t recognize the Cameron son sooner, his face had to be everywhere when all that went down. 

But why would your parents care, all you do is cost them more money. They’ve been trying to get you out of the house for months. 

“Y-yeah…” You respond, looking back out the dark, tinted window towards your house. “I-I’m ready.” You put your hand on the door handle, waiting for him to unlock it so you can exit his truck.  

“You have an hour. Don’t make me come inside.” Rafe’s hand moves over the driver door and he presses a button, causing your door to unlock with a click. You nod and exit the vehicle, cautiously walking across the street and towards your front door. Upon entering your home, you take a deep breath to try and keep your emotions in check. No matter how much you wish your parents would notice something is very wrong, you know that would only bite you in the ass. The best thing you can do is make sure this all goes according to plan. 

“Mom?” You call out, slowly walking down the entry hallway. “Mom? Dad?” You try again, speaking more confidently this time.

“Yeah, in here!” You hear your mom call out from the living room. As you enter the room, you see your parents watching TV. Your mother with a drink in her hand, laid back on the couch with her legs crossed and your father reclined in the chair, a beer in his hand. You glance down at the floor beside the recliner and spot several empty beer cans. Great, just great.

“Hey…” You say sheepishly. “How’s the bar?”, you ask, more casually. 

Your mom glances over at your father, assuming that since he hasn’t even turned his head away from the TV, she’s going to have to answer you. As she turns her head back to look at you, she sips on her drink. She licks her lips and clears her throat before drawing her attention to you. “It was fine”, she mutters your name before taking another sip of her drink. “Same as always. What’ve you been up to?” She asks, not even trying to pretend like she actually cares about what you have to say next. 

As you open your mouth to speak, your father cuts you off; still not looking away from the TV. “Get a damn job yet? Or were you just out fucking off again, hm? You’re too goddamn old to be living under my roof for free. You don’t do shit. You’re gonna start paying your fucking dues.” He snaps, finishing off his beer before tossing it to the ground aside, clattering into the others. “I need a beer.” He mutters. Without hesitation you walk over to the kitchen. You open the fridge door, staring into it as you get lost in your thoughts for a moment, eyes immediately watering. You shouldn’t even be upset, it’s not like you expected anything more. But you did have the slightest hope that maybe they didn’t drink so much today and they’d actually be able to tell that something is terribly wrong. 

Quickly you snap yourself out of your thoughts, grabbing a beer from the fridge and heading back into the living room, handing it to your dad. You take a few steps back, taking a breath to calm yourself. “I told you I–”, you start before your father interrupts you. 

“You’re gonna ‘go back to school to get a good job’. Bull. Shit. y/n. Bullshit.”

You fight back the tears in your eyes. Even though you’re used to the drunken crap your father is constantly spewing, his words still always manage to get to you; especially now when you actually need your parents. After a moment, you move to face both parents, looking more at your mother; she’s easier to speak to. 

“A-actually…” You start, looking down at your feet and fiddling with your fingers. “I wanted to tell you t-that I-I’m moving out…” You wait a few seconds to steady your breathing and let your words sink in before looking back up. Your father has turned in his chair to face you and your mother looked up at you from her spot on the couch. 

“About damn time.” Your father speaks.

Your mother replies next, “Where?” 

You look back at your feet, watching how they kick at the ground as you speak, “In…into Tannyhill. The Cameron's place.” You mumble, not wanting to look up, fearing that they’ll see right through you. Even though you know you’re just paranoid, there’s no way they’ll pay enough attention to you to notice something is wrong.

“Didn’t they move after what happened to Ward?” Your mother asks.

Your dad adds, “After Ward killed a shit ton of folks and then himself.” 

You ignore your fathers words, looking up at your mother, only taking brief glances over at your father while you speak. “Uhh no, no…not all of them.” Your hand lightly scratches at the back of your head. “Rafe, the son,” you clarify, trying to seem as though you are telling a casual story; like you’re telling the truth. “Yeah, uh…he actually took over Cameron Development and he still lives in the house.”

“What the hell you doin’ with a Cameron?” Your mother questions sternly. Her attention is taken away from you as your father barks her name.

“Fucks’ it matter?” He speaks to her before looking over at you again. “He’s letting you move in? He’ll pay for your lazy ass, yeah?”

You look at your dad and give him a nod, watching as he takes another swig of his beer can as you mutter, “Y-yes.”

 He swallows hard, pursing his lips. “Then go on, get outta here.” He exclaims before looking back to the TV as though nothing happened. 

You answer your moms question from earlier, “Rafe…h-he’s a friend of mine. He said he’s got so much extra space and he can help me find a good job out on figure eight; y’know, hook me up with some people, I guess he put a word in for me or somethin’.” You lie, pleased with yourself as you manage to get out the last word without breaking character. 

“S’long as you’re not costin’ us no more money.” She replies, getting up from the couch and heading into the kitchen to refill her glass of wine. 

You stand there for a moment, before your dad speaks again, “And when you come crawling back, you ain’t stayin’ for free.” 

You let out a small, broken sigh, “yeah”. You exit the living room, heading to your bedroom. As you pass by the kitchen you momentarily stop and speak to your mother who’s currently trying to open up a new bottle of wine. “I’m gonna pack a bag…I’m leaving tonight.”

You know the time is ticking, that you probably don’t have much of your hour left. You grab your biggest duffel bag from underneath your bed and start frantically filling it. It’s hard to pack though because, what are you supposed to bring to move in with your psycho stalker? You pack some hoodies and sweats, some of your baggiest jeans, oversized t-shirts, large pj pants, really just making sure all the clothes you packed were the least revealing things you could find. After all, you weren’t sure what was in store for you. And you sure as hell weren’t gonna make it that easy for him to get what he wants. You packed some personal hygiene products and toiletries, an extra pair of shoes, and whatever else you think you may need. Before walking out of your bedroom, you glance around and scan for anything you might’ve missed. You end up grabbing your favorite blanket and shoving it into your bag; something that might help give you comfort at your new home, something to keep the monsters out at night. And finally, you tuck your ‘sleeping’ pills into your bag. They’re the only thing that’s been able to help you sleep these past few weeks. And slowly your dosage continues to increase.

Stepping out of your bedroom, you shut your door behind you. You stand in the hallway, taking a deep breath which causes a tear to fall down your cheek. You wipe the tear and head back into your living room. You set down your bag and walk over to the couch, sitting beside your mom. 

Turning to face her, you whisper, “I’m leaving now, mom.”

“Okay sweetie.” She nods, this really isn’t a big deal for her. She thinks you’re just moving out like a typical young adult. But you know the truth. You know, or rather you don’t know what the future has in store for you or when the next time you’ll be able to see your family again is; if he lets you see them again. 

You lean in and give your mom a hug, she immediately hugs back seeing as you two never hug. You pray that this doesn’t raise any suspicion in her. When you stand up from the couch, you walk over to stand by your fathers chair. “Bye Dad, I’m leaving now.” You say, trying to keep your normal emotionless, cold tone with him. 

“Yeah, okay, bye.” He waves you off, wanting you to move out of his view of the television. 

You go and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder again. Before exiting the room and leaving, you turn back to your parents, “Bye, see you later.” You lie. Well, technically it’s not a lie because you aren’t even sure of the answer yourself.

As you walk out of the front door, you hear each of them mutter some form of a goodbye just before the door shuts behind you. You look up and glance across the street, seeing Rafe’s truck still sitting there parked; still running. As you slowly walk towards it, he rolls his darkly tinted window down just enough that you can see his eyes as they watch you intently. You’re hit with shivers that roll from the top of your spine to the tip of your toes as you walk around to the passenger side of his truck and open the back door, tossing your bag on the seats before climbing into the front passenger seat. 

You can feel his searing vision on you as you buckle your seatbelt and proceed to stare silently out in front of yourself. He mutters your name, causing you to hesitantly turn to look at him. 

“How’d it go?” He asks.

“Well clearly I’m here so…” You say, unsure of where your sarcastic attitude came from. You hope this isn’t enough to set him off. Judging by his ragged breath, the chances aren’t great. 

Rafe just shakes his head, a small smirk forming on his face as he lets out a huff, “yeah…you’re here baby.” It’s hard to tell whether or not he’s pissed off or not. You curse his quickly transforming moods. He doesn’t say anything else before putting the truck into drive and spinning out of your neighborhood. The drive from the cut back to figure eight is dreadful and silent. 

When you do finally reach Tannyhill and Rafe parks in the driveway, he’s the first to exit the vehicle as he grabs your duffle bag from the backseat, rounding the truck to open your door. You instinctively mumble a small ‘thank you’ to him, immediately feeling embarrassed before realizing that maybe being extra kind will make him go easier on you. All he does is chuckle in response as he walks behind you to his front door. When Rafe gets the door unlocked, he lets you walk inside first as he follows closely behind. He locks the door and leads you upstairs and down the hall. Reaching inside his pocket, Rafe pulls out another key which he uses to unlock a random hallway door. Once he gets it open, he enters the room and sets your bag down on the bed.

 He turns back to look at you as you stand in the doorway. “This uh…” he scratches at the back of his buzzed head, appearing to be almost…nervous? “This is your room for the time being.” Rafe grins as he looks up at you. “Thought you’d be more comfortable in your own room for now.”

‘For now’, what the hell is that supposed to mean? You wonder, taking a step further inside the bedroom. You look around, but you don’t speak; you don’t know what you’d even say. You sit on the foot of the neatly made bed. He only stands in front of you, staring down, just watching you silently. Rafe is always doing that, watching. 

“Rafe…?” You murmur, turning your head slightly in his direction but keeping your eyes rooted on the floor. 

“Hm? What is it, baby?” Rafe’s brows further, his forehead slightly creasing. 

“I…w-what happens now?” You ask as you use your right hand to scratch at your left forearm, trying to keep yourself mentally present. 

Rafe steps closer to the bed, if you were to look up, you’d practically be face-to-face with his clothed cock. So you decide to spare the awkwardness of that and continue to stare at the ground below you.  

“Well,” he speaks. Before continuing, Rafe brings his hand up and uses his thumb and pointer finger to grip into your chin. He slightly tugs upward, forcing you to look up into his eyes. “You’re gonna stay here with me. I know baby, I know it’s hard. But, you’ll have some time to adjust, alright?” You nod and he lets go of your chin, but immediately moves to take the empty space on the bed. He sits next to you and he places his hand on your knee. “Hey,” he speaks softly and you turn to look at him. “This is our future and I know it’s scary, but it’s gonna be okay. Yeah?”

Future, you think. ‘This is our future’, you try to allow his words to break through to you, but your mind won’t let this sink in. This, whatever this is, was not supposed to be your future. Though you’re not totally sure what was meant to be your future, you just know it isn’t him. You’re supposed to meet someone who you know now, is not a psycho stalker and actually have a choice in what happens to you.

God, maybe your parents were right. Which you never thought would happen. But, if you had listened to them and had done more with your life, who knows, maybe you wouldn’t have ended up in this situation. But instead you pushed all responsibilities away, saving them for the ‘future’. You’ve spent your entire life waiting for something in your brain to switch and somehow make you capable of carrying responsibilities and do something with your life. And now, this is your punishment, it has to be. If you ever get out of this nightmare of a situation, you aren’t gonna sit around on your ass and wait for a handout anymore, you’re gonna change. But, that is only if you manage to escape from this hell. 

“Okay, baby?” The man next to you speaks, his thumb lightly running over the fabric of your jeans. His voice pulls you out from your endless void of thoughts, bringing you right back into the present. 

You respond, your voice shaky, “What do you want from me?” A salty, warm tear rolls out from the corner of your eye and down your cheek. “Baby, baby shhh, it’s okay. It’s alright. All I want is for us to be together, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.” He says in a tone that seems to indicate that he might just actually be sincere. The more you try to figure this man out, the more confused you get. But, if he really does care about you, that’s something you might just be able to work with.

“B-but…you are hurting me.” You say hesitantly, worried to see how this will play out. Immediately, his already light touch on your knee lightens even more to the point he’s barely making contact. 

“What? What do you mean? You’re okay.” 

“No…I just wanna go home, please.” The last word comes out in more of a whisper than anything else. Rafe’s eyes squeeze shut and he shakes his head, standing up. 

He begins to pace the room, you just follow him with his eyes. As Rafe paces, his fists repeatedly clench and unclench at his sides. Suddenly, he comes to a halt, turning to face you again. “You know I can’t let you do that.”

“Please…” You whimper in a pleading tone. Your voice full of emotion. He cocks his head to the side, amused as he watches you. Rafe takes a few steps closer, so he’s standing to the side of the bed once more. 

“Baby, there’s nothing to be so scared of. We’re gonna be so good. Just…just trust me.” He says, getting impatient with having to repeat this to you constantly.

“But…I don’t want this, please just take me back home.” Rafe’s expression goes dark, his shoulders relax like he’s just let something go.

“Go home? To do what? Huh?! You don’t do shit. I’m saving you baby. I’m saving you from your sad, pathetic life. I’m giving you everything you’ll ever need, baby. So no, you cannot go ‘home’. This is your home.” The man’s voice is stronger, meaner than before. At this point you don’t have enough courage left in you to fight this. You just sniffle and nod, wiping your tears. “This is our home.” 

As you sit there silently watching him but being careful not to make eye contact, he starts to unzip your duffel bag. You huff, “what, you gonna take the only things I have left now too?” 

He sighs, looking at you. “No.” Rafe begins to sort through your things, taking it all out of the bag one by one. “Just makin’ sure you didn’t get any stupid ideas.” He mumbles, not looking up from what he’s doing.

After he empties the contents of your bag out onto ‘your’ bed, he starts to go through it more carefully. You watch as he picks up a pair of your underwear, holding it up and looking at you. “What’s all this shit? You on your period or some shit? Thought that was earlier this month.” He huffs, tossing the item back down on the bed. He’s clearly frustrated by the fact that you purposely packed your ugliest and least revealing panties; which happen to be the ones you typically wear on your period. Which makes you think back to what he said, you realize he’s had to see you in your underwear often to know what kind you wear during a specific time of the month. You shiver.

Once he deems everything as safe, he puts it all back into the bag. Just as he picks up one of your hoodies, the bottle of your sleeping pills fall onto the bed. Rafe’s brows furrow and he picks up the bottle, reading the label. Once he identifies the content and the doseage, he makes a  tsk sound. He slips the bottle into his pocket and looks back up at you. “Can’t leave you with those now can I?” Rafe finishes re-packing your bag.

“I-I need those…to sleep.” Your words cause him to chuckle, confusing you. You don’t understand what he could possibly find funny in this situation, but then again you aren’t a sociopathic stalker. 

“Right.” He mumbles. “Nobody takes that much just to sleep.”

“Please, they…they help.” You aren’t lying. Your doctor put you onto some medication which you cannot pronounce, that almost immediately puts out your anxiety and helps you relax. The only thing is, you keep upping the dose, when really they worked just fine the first time. But, you like how they make you feel. And yeah, sometimes you might take them without reason, but only sometimes.

“I’m gonna hold onto them for a while baby. You’ll be fine.” He pauses before speaking again, this time with a slight smirk evident on his face, “I’m here if you need help sleeping.” He says cockily. “Yeah?” You don’t respond. You just stare at the floor. 

After a few moments of silence, his stares were getting uncomfortable. “Can I just be alone, please? I just…I wanna try and get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” You sigh. 

“You haven’t eaten today.” He states.

“Yeah…I-I’m not hungry.” Being kidnapped and forced to completely unroot your life to live with an unknown man definitely takes some effect on you, such as erasing your appetite. 

Rafe sighs and steps closer, sitting down next to you once more. “How do I know you aren’t gonna try anything?”  

“I haven’t tried anything yet have I? I haven’t told anyone about you, a-and I’ve done everything you’ve asked.” You plead.

Rafe makes another tsk sound as he shakes his head. “What were you doing at the sheriff's office today, hm? What was that?”

“I…I-” You aren’t sure what to say. If you lie, he’ll know. But you’re too afraid to tell him what you had planned on doing down at the station. 

“Don’t you ever try that again. Don’t even fucking think about trying it.” He pauses for a moment. Chuckling before he speaks again, “god, so stupid. You really thought they’d believe you? Over…over me?” He laughs.

“I…I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit,” he grabs your thigh firmly, making you gasp. “You know I hate when you lie to me…so why do you keep doing it?” He asks, searching in your eyes for the answer. “You’re only sorry you got caught.” He squeezes tighter.

You groan at his grip on your leg and the ache it’s causing. “R-Rafe…that hurts. Please…y-you’re hurting me.” Your words are followed by a quick gasp and a tear running down your face. 

Once Rafe’s eyes land on your tear, he lets go of your leg. “Shit, baby. I’m—I didn’t mean to.” Rafe moves his hand to rest comfortingly on your shoulder. Well, his idea of what a comforting hand is isn’t exactly comforting. But he doesn’t have much of an example to go off of. 

Before you can speak, he stands up and exits the room. You hear the door lock, and your eyes squeeze shut. You let your head fall into your hands and you just start to let it all out. For hours you sit there, crying until there’s no tears left. You just keep waiting and waiting for him to come back; you figure he wouldn’t leave you completely alone without supervision on your first night here. Except he never does. 

Eventually, you really do start to feel a bit tired. You lay down on the bed, on top of the covers. You use your pillow and your blanket from home. The smell of home still lingering on the items. Pulling the blanket over your head to feel safe, you eventually begin to fall asleep. 

When you wake, you’re still tucked away into your safe place. After recollecting your thoughts that had become jumbled from sleep, you pull the blanket off of your head. You squint from the bright light that shines through the window. Once your eyes have adjusted, you take a moment to scan over your surroundings. The bedroom looks like that of a hotel room. Well, not like any hotel you’ve ever been to. The mansion is slightly more vintage and elegant than those of the typical kooks; it’s not as simple and modern. If you weren’t being held captive in it, you may even admire it. 

As much as you’d love to stay curled up under your blanket. Nature calls and you can’t ignore it. You sit up from the bed and quietly step over to the door. Shit. The doors locked, you forgot.

“Hey!” You call out. “Rafe? Let me out!” Faintly, you can hear commotion from the floor below you. While you wait, you look around the room a bit more. There’s another door, you open it expecting it to be a closet, but it’s a bathroom. Wow, you definitely feel dumb now.

After taking care of things, you exit the bathroom. You jump back when you finally look up from your feet to see Rafe standing in the room. 

“Goodmorning, baby.” He smiles. “How’d you sleep?”

You start walking towards the bed, sitting back down and covering your body with your blanket. All you do in response is shake your head.

“Hungry yet?” He asks, sitting at the foot of the bed and resting his hand on your calf, rubbing over it through your blanket. 

You shake your head again.

Rafe sighs, “y’know I’d really appreciate some words?” He says softly.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

“Okay.” He tucks his lips in and nods a bit. “Suit yourself then. I’ll be back later, I guess. …Unless you don’t want me to go?” He asks hopefully.

“Am I supposed to just stay locked up in here all day?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Well,” Rafe pauses to lick his lips before continuing. “You’re the one who I can’t trust.” He takes his hand off of your leg and stands up. “Just…just give it time baby, you’ll come around. I know you will.” It’s obvious that he’s not even sure about whether or not he’s trying to convince you or himself with his words. 

Without another word, Rafe exits the room, locking the door. Again, you cover yourself with the blanket and let it engulf you. You close your eyes and imagine that you’re in your own bed at home. 

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas, I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!

[arcaneauthor]

Can you please do Stray kids Lee know cute things he does as a boyfriend and him as a boyfriend headcons please 🥺

Cute things Lee Know does as your bf

Pairing: Leeknow x reader

Also requested by: @phumzo5

Warnings: none, just fluff basically

Tags: are you actually supposed to put tags for headcannons? I have no clue, Lee (the butthunter) Minho, protective bf Leeknow, fluff, more fluff, oh did I mention the fluff?

A/n: So um I know I said I had all these stories ideas and was gonna start back posting more *awkard laughter* funny how life can derail plans huh?😅 But um I brought you Leeknow as an apology gift??🥹🤲 (to anybody that saw the post about my Chan story idea I swear I am still going to write it I’m just very slow so pls be patient😖)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He is literally constantly flirting with you

Doesn’t matter if you’ve been dating 10 days or ten years, he will always flirt with you like you are in a new relationship.

The “honey moon faze” never ends with him

Literally makes it his life goal to get you as flustered as possible. He finds you blushing to be extremely adorable.

Always tries to catch your eyes across a room to give you a teasing wink and smirk. Mostly done in very serious situations where you getting so red and flustered is definitely not appropriate. The little shit

Face squishies constantly, especially when you blush and he thinks you’re cute. (If you don’t know what I mean just look at what he’s doing to the cat in the above picture and just imagine it’s your face instead of the cats lol)

Slaps the booty anytime it’s in range

Even in very publicly inappropriate places. He has no shame

I mean we are talking about the “butt hunter” here. What did you expect?

Takes a ton of pictures of you sleeping

I swear it’s not as weird as it sounds. He just thinks you are so adorable all curled up and innocent like that.

Bonus points if you fell asleep curled up with one of his cats

Loves when you sit on his lap. Sometimes he’ll just pull you down to sit with him when you walk by, insisting whatever you were walking around doing could wait till later. He’s actually secretly just craving your attention and closeness but won’t admit it.

Buys two of the same hoodie when he’s shopping cause he knows you love wearing his but he also doesn’t want to give up his fav hoodies lol

You would totally just steal his anyways because the other one doesn’t smell like him

Secretly loves to do the typical cheesy “coupley” things with you but would never admit it lol. “Omg we have got to do this couples costume it’s so cute!” *pulls face of disgust* “I’d rather die”

he’s literally buying it online as he speaks

Will sometimes buy you random gifts when he’s feeling sentimental

But he’ll just come home,drop it in front of you, and leave without acknowledging that he did something sweet lol

Gets very protective

Not in like a overly possessive way but he definitely does not have a tolerance for people messing with you

He senses you are even a little bit uncomfortable?? Yeah he’s not having it.

Same for just walking in public anywhere with him. If there’s any paparazzi or fan getting a little too close and pushy with you? He will dish out the most intimidating drop dead glare you’ve ever seen while pulling you in closer to him. All while wishing he wasn’t an idol so he could properly put them in their place

To an outsider he may come off as very straightforward and emotionless, but he can turn into the softest boi in an instant. Especially with you

I mean have you seen that scary skz code episode where he’s comforting Felix because he’s scared??🥺

If he senses something the least bit off with you?? Caring soft boyfriend mode activated!

Absolutely hates seeing you upset or crying

“Honey what’s wrong?” “What’s bothering you?” “Are you okay babe?” “What can I do?“ “Who do I have to murder?”

[sluttysanemi]

✧˚ · . – HIS WOUNDS.

a/n: i was walking up the stairs and then my arsehole got probed by my friends fingers

i also need to interact w more ppl so jst a little reminder my dms r open! nsfw version.

c/w: brief descriptions of wounds, suicidal mentality?, slight angst, then fluff.

He's too rough with himself.

In the early midst of dawn, he shuffles his feet into the estate. Heavy trembles of breath exhale from his lips, as his chest and forearms are daubed in fresh scars. Droplets of sweat streak across his skin as he struggles to breathe smoothly. 

He is uncaring on how he inflicts himself harm. Even if the scars appear to grow heavier, and scathe his body further, he merely accepts them as a Hashira. 

He proceeds to the bathroom, with heavy feet, attempting to wash the ooze of crimson trickling from his skin. He carries a bucket, crafted of timber, beneath the tap, filling it with warm water. He has hazy eyes- worn and burnt out, rendering it difficult for him to see clearly. 

After filling the surface, he closes the faucet and picks a towel. He dips the material beneath the surface of water and squeezes the excess. Repeating the motions he is so accustomed to each night, he begins to apply the towel to his open wounds, extracting the blood.

Yet it hurts, no matter the number of times he does it. 

He sucks in air harshly between his teeth, his fingers clenching slightly. He relieves the pressure, allowing a moment to compose himself before attempting to wash it, yet again. He's whispering harsh phrases under his breath as he struggles through the agony. His brow furrows, and his breath continues to waver. 

You gradually stir from your shared futon, jarred awake by the subtle noise caused. You carefully sit up from the cushioning, following the trail of softly echoing groans and the melody of trickling water. 

You slide the door of the bathroom, coming witness of the scene. The silky fabric of the washcloth had darkened with blood, the material now a remembrance of misery. You gaze to the numerous slashes over his body. You can only feel sympathy.

It hurts to see your husband in such a position. 

Sanemi studies your worried expression before scoffing. He redirects his gaze to the wall. “You should be asleep.”, he spoke dismissively. 

You swallow nervously. “Sanemi…”

“I’m fine. Don’t bother with me. Just get some rest.”

You, however, remained by the door. There was a temporary tense sense in the air, as you both remained silent. 

You sighed quietly as you sealed the door, sitting alongside him. He glances at you, bewildered. 

“What the fuck are you–”

“Let me clean them.”, you said sternly, your tone offering no room of argument. 

He stares at you, his expression softening. He hands you the towel and sits up slightly. Draping the towel to the water again, you attempt to delicately clear around the newly formed injuries.

Sanemi's body loosened, observing how his severe pain had eased. His breathing grows softer as he settles. You have always been so tender.

A comfortable silence persists as you continued your work. 

Something was troubling you, however. You swallowed, eventually speaking up. 

“I'm worried for you, Shinazugawa.”, your words a kind whisper. 

He observes your expression before turning his attention to his own body. 

“Don’t be. I’m used to it. You shouldn’t get your head so wrapped around stupid shit.”

You swallow again. 

“But- You’re my husband. I- I can’t help but to worry.”

Your anxious remarks tore him inside. However, he chose to put other people before himself. Even at the cost of hurting himself. 

“I can take care of myself.”

You observe his face. His apathetic expression. You couldn't let him act so irresponsibly. You had to express your worries. 

You take his hand, trying to collect your words. 

“I just- I wish you wouldn’t be so unthoughtful. I know how important your swordsmanship is- and- and it’s admirable. You put yourself in front of others. But… If you’re prioritizing your life over others.. Who will take care of you?”

Sanemi listens to your heartfelt words, absorbing every detail. Every emotion. He swallows. 

“I know we’ve lost so many to these wretched demons. They only feed on the pain of our children, their mothers- and brothers. I- I just.”, you continue. 

“I just can’t bare to see the way you’re coming home. I hate seeing you so torn. And tired. I hate seeing my husband pain himself further each and every day.”

You felt a swell in your throat. It was going to spill. It was clawing from your throat. 

“I don’t want my husband to kill himself trying to protect everyone but himself. I don’t want him to die on a hill of misery, just like everyone we’ve lost. I- I couldn’t let that happen to you.”, you shook your head, trying to not picture his corpse. 

“I just couldn’t.”

Sanemi observes your expression. He felt his heart throb. He'd never been moved so strongly by an emotional display. 

Had he truly been so irresponsible with himself? Had he disregarded his wife's feelings?

He takes your hand, maneuvering it closely to his lips. He smiles tenderly. 

“You shouldn’t worry about it anymore.”, he said, pressing soft pecks against your fingers. “And I shouldn’t have been so dismissive of you.”

You watch, your gaze easing slightly. He continued to brush his lips against your fingers, eventually to your knuckle. 

“My sweet wife. Such a kind woman. Always lookin’ out for her husband, hm?”, he whispers softly. “Don’t get so conscious. I won’t be worrying you like this again.”, he admitted.

Your eyes widen slightly as you hear his words. “You won’t?” you whisper, your tone expressing disbelief. 

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have been so reckless. I won’t allow those putrid things to scathe me so badly again.”, he passes you a sincere smile. “And I won’t scare you so badly, my sweet. I’ll be more gentle to myself.”

You experienced a sense of relief as his smile filled you with warmth. All your concerns and anxieties faded away at that instant replaced by a feeling of tranquility and happiness. 

In a moment filled with love and dedication, you gently press your lips to his, expressing your sense of fulfillment. During your embrace, you embody a bond through unspoken connection. The outside world fades, as you revel in the shared intimacy of spirits. The comforting warmth of the embrace surrounds you completely.

A serene atmosphere of love, and tranquility, as you enfold the thought of your husband's safety.

[3minsover]

AUgust Day 30:

steve tries to employ his ‘act like you don’t care’ method when he realizes he has a crush on eddie.

it’s about a month or so after vecna, and the party are more inseparable than they’ve ever been, older teens included, and eddie’s settled in like he’s been one of the gang since day one.

the moment steve realizes that old familiar fluttering in his stomach, the telltale thrum of blood rushing to his cheeks as eddie plucks out nameless tunes on his acoustic or asks steve if he wants to come over to get high or watch a movie, steve knows exactly what’s happening. it doesn’t scare him as much as he thought it would, falling for one of his best friends, especially not one who’s a guy. he doesn’t really know the protocol for a situation such as this, but some habits die hard, and something in steve’s brain is still hardwired to receive that hit of endorphins and return to the routines of old.

thing is, steve’s never put on this show when there’s another guy involved. with girls, he can be cool and suave and just the right side of dismissive until he has them begging to be even offered a palm to eat out of.

but eddie’s different. both in that he’s a guy, and steve’s pretty sure this same move isn’t going to work on him, but also, eddie’s different. eddie’s something special. something that feels like the first splash of rainfall after a drought. eddie has him yearning in a way he’d never thought himself even capable. and as fiercely as he longs to just grab eddie by the face and kiss the mischievous grin from his lips in the hopes it makes his insides smile too, steve brushes eddie off just as much. he waves quick, flippant ‘hey’s (but he longs to furl eddie up in a hug, bury his face in the collar of his leather jacket), he blinks away eddie’s jokes with just the practiced hint of a smirk (though he wishes he’d just let himself laugh), he offers backhanded compliments (when he’s desperate to tell eddie he has the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, and that he wants them to be the first thing he sees in the morning until the day he dies).

eddie shrugs it all off for a couple weeks with only a twitching narrow of his eyes, a deliberate, searching stare.

steve thinks maybe, just maybe, this has worked.

until eddie confronts him about it.

“hey, did i do something?”

“what?”

“did i- you’ve been- you got a problem with me?”

“why would you- what? no!” steve tries to protest, but eddie barrels on, sounds just so demoralised it’s hard to listen to.

“look, if you don’t like me being around or whatever, just say it, man. i can’t take all this cold shoulder shit anymore.”

steve blinks hard, dumbfounded, with the sinking realization that his trademark move hadn’t worked - if anything, it’d done the exact opposite of what he hoped. steve had felt that electricity with every glance at eddie, but he now fears he’s crossed some wires somewhere, and it was the spark of faulty cables, rather than the fizz of something mutual. and if steve’s plan has backfired, the only thing left for him to do is come clean.

“i don’t have a problem with you. i mean, i guess i kinda do have a problem with you, but- but!” steve preempts eddie’s inevitable crestfallen sigh with the raise of his pointer fingers, both staying and apologetic all at once. “but it’s not a problem you caused. it kinda is but it’s also not. shit i used to be so good at this. i have a problem with you because i don’t know what to do with you. i don’t know how to be around you without- without- you’re always so- so alive and fun and sweet and just looking at you makes me want to scream into my pillow, but in like, a good way? and my heart gets all- and your eyes are just- so. i guess i got a problem with you, because i… want you to be my problem. i want you- uh. yeah.”

eddie is silent for a long moment, and steve can almost see each of his words slotting into place behind eddie’s eyes. “steve. i… i’m not gonna do us both the disservice of pretending i understood all of what you just said, but i think i got the highlights?”

steve rakes a minutely trembling hand through his hair, finding anything to break up the sudden stillness.

“you did? cause even i feel like I’ve talked myself round in circles here.”

“i think so. let me get this straight. you… think i’m fun?”

“yup.”

“looking at me makes you want to-”

“scream into my pillow, yeah.”

“oh- oh okay. noted. and um, you,” eddie starts slowly, seems to be feeding the words out carefully like it’ll spook steve to hear them from another mouth but his own. “you want me to be your problem.” steve swallows, inhales deep, and nods.

“yeah. cause, i guess to me it wouldn’t really be a problem. it would- that would be something i wanted. you’re- something i wanted- want. god, this is harder than i thought.” steve chuckles nervously and eddie just stares, mouth hanging just a little open.

“but you…” eddie starts, brows knitting in confusion, “you don’t like me. you barely talk to me even though i wanna talk to you whenever you’re around, even when i’m trying to make you laugh you hardly even smile, and i try to make you laugh like, all the time- oh.” something flashes in eddie’s eyes as he stops himself dead in the middle of his sentence. “oh my god. you- you were- shit, dustin talked my ear off about this; act like, uh, like you don’t care, huh?”

steve’s already burning cheeks threaten to start giving off smoke, and he’s about ready to hotfoot it out the door and disappear forever, but then eddie smiles, and it’s one of those devilish, smirky, sparkling smiles that steve loves.

“you got me, harrington,” eddie admits on an exhale. “you got me good with that. got me hooked.”

steve winces a little, tries to smile back.

“i did?”

“shit, yeah. you’re better than i thought.” eddie chuckles giddily; it makes steve smile for real.

“so, i can admit that i actually do like you now? that i’ve been crushing on you for like, months?”

taking a step closer and placing his palms flat against steve’s chest, eddie drops his voice low, “yeah, yeah you can. because then i can say i like you back.”

turns out steve’s plan had worked, just not in the way he expected. but nothing with eddie ends up how steve expected, and that’s just one addition to the list of things he loves about him. that list will grow longer as the years pass, a never-ending record of things to love.

steve’ll apologize for the whole mind game thing later, but for now, he simply rests his hands over eddie’s, and tips his head forward until their foreheads touch. he whispers, “hey, eddie. i really like you. let me take you on a date sometime?”

and eddie whispers back, “hey, stevie. i like you a hell of a lot too. and yeah, obviously - thanks for finally asking.”

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Nimona headcanons plus a little bonus at the end

Whenever the trio gets home it's like a switch is flipped off inside their brains and all they want to do is be lazy and relax 

They’ve got very busy and stressful lives and a pretty small home so it’s not uncommon for them to yell when they’re asking a question instead of just getting up

And if they can’t hear each other they’ll just call the other person

One time Ambrosius was yelling asking them what wanted for dinner and was interrupted by Nimona calling him 

He answered the phone and all they said was “What’d you say I couldn't hear you” he didn’t even question it he just kept talking 

Nimona brings dead animals home 

I have this small headcanon that the first time she shifted into her human form was when she met Gloreth 

So before that she was living mostly as different animals and she kind of learned their ways and those ways stuck with her 

So there is a small part of her that sees Bal and Ambrosius as incompetent hunters (can you blame her)

The boys always thank her for her doing a good job and then they wait for her to leave the room before they freak out because MY GOD SHE BROUGHT A FUCKING DEAD RAT IN THE DAMN HOUSE 

There have also been times when she’s brought live animals inside the house the trio spent half an hour trying to get a traumatized bird out of their living room 

I just know for a fact that Bal has a crazy amount of brain damage 

This man has used his head as a weapon and has been hit on the head more times than I can count 

So I feel like he has a really hard time remembering the little details he gets really bad migraines and headaches pretty frequently his eyesight is absolute shit and he has to wear contacts or glasses and he gets really bad vertigo if he doesn’t take care of himself 

This worries the shit out of Ambrosius and Nimona but there isn't much they can do except deal with the symptoms when they show up

So I was thinking about the fact that as far as we know Nimona never told Bal about what went down with Gloreth

But I know that the boys would try and heal the damage that Gloreths legacy left behind  

And in the middle of everything Bal turned to Ambrosius and said “I just wish that fucking eyesore was gone” 

He didn’t have to ask what he meant he knew it was the statue 

So Ambrosius got to work trying to get it torn down 

A lot of people including some distant relatives that he hasn’t heard from in years tried to argue that it was an important monument and that her story touched a lot of people 

To which Ambrosius responded with “I’m her direct descendant if anyone gets to choose what happens to that statue it should be me” 

It was a couple of months into Nimona’s return when the demolition was approved 

The boys had asked him a while after he came back if it was something he wanted 

And all he said was “As long as I get to help” 

It was super therapeutic for both Nimona and Ambrosius 

Like don’t get me wrong the damage she did to Nimona is still there 

And Ambrosius will always have a complicated relationship with his lineage 

But tearing down the “fucking eyesore” heals something inside them

It was supposed to be a month-long process but Nimona and Ambrosius kept going and it was completely gone after two weeks

When all was said and done they collapsed on the couch and went through just about every single emotion you can go through

A little bonus I made my mama watch Nimona with me and here are some of my favorite comments: Mind you when I first put the movie on this woman was acting like I was pulling teeth

“I like the queen she seems nice” (and then she freaked out when she died)

“So they’re nice to him 'cause he’s gold I would just steal the armor what does he have without that?” “Money Mama” “Ah”

“Why are they so mean to him he’s just a baby?” (talking about Bal)

“She’s just like you especially with those freaky eyes” (when Nimona met Bal)

“Oh, so she’s the rhino…. Makes sense”

“Awe she’s cute I can't hate her” (about Nimona again)

“Oh wait she isn’t cute that’s freaky” (when Nimona was the demon baby)

“That’s like you and your sister” (Bal and Nimona interrogating the squire)

“Hey, mama is arm chopping a love language?” “I’m worried that you would even ask me that”

“Oh he’s got issues huh?” (after Ambrosius’ internal freak out)

“Can he die a little quieter… and faster” (after the Director stabbed “Ambrosius”)

“Oh fuck that little blond girl”

We had to pause the movie right before Nimona started her rampage because we were getting tired and I woke up to her in front of the tv with it pulled up on Netflix and she turned to me and said “Can we finish it already?”

“If she sacrificed herself I will never forgive you”

“Do you watch anything with straight people?” “Mama you literally ship them” “That's not an answer” (this is right after Bal and Ambrosius kissed)

“Is there a next part?..... so when’s the next one coming out?” 

Once the movie was over I told her some people thought Ambrosius and Bal were related and she looked me dead in the eyes and said

“You’re joking. No you have no be kidding… He literally said it in the movie!” “Said what Mama?” “oh I love him so much and I lost him whatever will I do” 

And then she kept making fun of Ambrosius for the next three minutes

I asked her who her favorite was and she said Nimona I go “aweee you love me” she looks me dead in my eyes and says “don’t make it awkward”

[fumifooms]

Thistle & Falin

Just my narrative of Thistle & Falin, collection of shippy thoughts and dynamic analysis. Creating some imagery and threads, etc. What if we both made devotion to our loved ones our purpose, what if we both hadn’t lived for ourselves in a long, long time. Who are we? Beyond who we love and our powers, what are we?

Background info: a short Falin analysis touching on Faligon and Thistle + an old thistlin post, compiling most of their moments. Here I delve into further thoughts but for base analysis of what they have in canon and in potential those are good starts. If you want I also have a full Falin analysis.

Disclaimer: Beyond the nebulous 1000 years I place Thistle as a young adult, and though I agree Falin mothers him to some degree I don’t think it’s unsimilar to the way that Marcille is a mom friend that sometimes mothers Falin and Izutsumi especially. Their relationship has layers like every other one in Dunmeshi, reducing it to being incestuously motherly or age discoursy to justify it being problematic is so funny to me, hello did you miss the mind control. Ah yes I love the 1090 yo with godlike powers being groomed by his chicken slave. You can have your own interpretation but canon is ambiguous enough, and dare I say intentionally ambiguous, that I have no qualms with not infantilizing Thistle, same with Yaad at the end of canon. I do ship Thistle and Falin, and although it’s in a nebulous qpr-or-other third secret thing situationship instead of conventionally romantic way, like, I puke on anything giving them a parental framing so don’t come shitting on my doorstep, kid-Thistle truthers be warned. Only nuance enjoyers allowed on this post. It’s valid if you’re uncomfortable with the ship!! Don’t make your issue others’ problem.

I thankfully finished my Falin analysis before posting this, but besides that I also have an analysis coming on the whole Thistle age thing which I think is interesting, beyond the well being poisoned there are things to explore there, idk in how long that’ll be done though. That’s all for plans that are relevant to this, now let’s get into it.

Part 1

So my favorite Falin things are Faligon + her sense of being like a pawn/misplaced, going on autopilot to follow the wishes of others, a feeling of identity being a burden and sort of fleeing from that, and her not really caring in the way/with the intensity that she’s "supposed" to (as per the points I go over in my Falin analysis). Meanwhile, Thistle has a lot of shit going on already but then there’s also how being a dungeon lord is highly wearing on his mind. As Faligon and as dungeon lord Thistle, the way they’re both so out of touch with reality in different ways holy shit?? They have power imbalance between them and it very much comes from mind control lol, but it’s also not something Thistle is fully aware of himself, because the powers are driving him unstable and he’s not even aware there’s someone in front of him really. He’s so out of it that he can’t even recognize that the dragon has been fused with a human and she’s so out of it we can’t even tell how conscious of her actions she is.

And then the interesting thing is that they’re kind of in it together… Mostly from Falin’s standpoint. We see that he does rely on the dragon increasingly so, hanging out with it, being saved by it and embraced by her etc. When he lets them both fall after breaking the web they were hanging from, he automatically, fully and wordlessly trusts her to catch him, instead of relying on magic or anything, and she does. Falin devotes herself to him but he’s devoted to The Cause which is just chasing ghosts at this point. But despite it all there’s a weird comfort here too… From the guy who in his last moment of lucidity reached out for someone, anyone’s hand, from the guy who hasn’t felt companionship in hundreds of years probably, hasn’t taken it slow and slept and eaten in who knows how long, from the girl who feels compelled to care after him like she’s always done with others… And the beast-ness allows her to have some freedom to figure herself out in a weird way, to simply enjoy being beside someone and doing anything her own whims tell her to.

It’s very destructive and weird and layered but like…. I can see the sliver where it works out. Where her kindness reaches him and he has a moment of lucidity where he sees her and it’s like, wait, who are you, you’re not the dragon?? Where finding someone else who feels just as messed up and devoted as them, like they’re just trudging along life like it’s a dream following their loved one, heals them a bit. Where caring for the other becomes a way to care for themselves too, a dark mirror of each other that shows you, oh, this is how bad it can get and I want to choose something else for myself actually. To grow to see the person standing in front of you, instead of only searching with your eyes in what way they’ll reflect on you. In helping each other, finding some companionship that’s weirdly vulnerable and self-healing. He gets her in touch with herself and her own needs again through the arc and conflict they have, and she gets him in touch with the world and his surroundings again. They have clashing ways to be selfless, very self-sacrificial from Falin meanwhike self-centered with Thistle (he ‘knows best’, ‘everything needs to be left to him’, etc etc, he needs the control, but he does it all for others, meanwhile Falin leaves that control to others and only grabs it for herself in exceptional cases like sacrificing herself to the dragon for Laios).

Like just let yourself be, damn!!! So then them being like, zombie mentally stunted babies kind of enhances that theme in a way too lol. The way they communicate together is very… Instinctive and basic, and I’d love to see how it could develop into a functional dynamic. They’re in ‘learning to be your own person’ kindergarten together to me. Thistle looking at her coloring wildly outside the lines and being like "you’re doing it wrong" and then you look at his and he colored everything a weird color. The precision is scary but then his crayon goes 1 mm out of the lines and he blows up into tears. Ok the metaphor has run its course

So yeah like the ship/brotp is very, them being isolated and against the world together and like… Slowly regaining their minds together. Getting their sense of identity grounded into them again. In my mind they have a 50k words adventure where they hang out and he slowly realizes there’s more to her than just dragon and she encourages him to dawdle around and eventually just play in water and shit and it’s like, starting to see life again beyond the laser focus you limited yourself to… And she’s allowed to just chill out and do whatever she wants besides the whole searching for Delgal thing. You can’t tie down a dragon! They are a duo they are an unit‼️ He’d have been fucked without her and at this point in time he sort of made her and he’s her world. Traumabonded kittens do not separate but it’s onesided in different ways haha. Honestly it’s sort of reflavored mickuro wait fuck…

If nothing else, they’re a very interesting dynamic to ponder. The depths of it all… I want to use them as a social experiment. I want them to stop to smell at the flowers and learn to work together… They’re master and servant they’re owner and pet they’re mothering and mothered (in a guardian hound way, in a mom friend way) they’re both incredibly (emotionally and physically) vulnerable in different ways…… Master and monster if you will. Mostly I see them as guardian & leader. Like I said I ship them but it’s not really romantic atp I think but it’s not quite qpr either it’s truly a weird secret third thing… What if we were sort of coworkers but also ?!!!>??????! You should hate me but you fiercely protect me I should appreciate you but I only see you as a tool WHAT IS GOING ONNN IN THERE

He wants to be protected even if he can’t really admit it. Here the catalyst was emotional distress moreso than physical threat. Notice how he lays there under her wing for a bit as he (refuses to) processes what Mithrun told him about Delgal dying and betraying him. She’s becoming his safety net, his comfort hound. Somehow, the both of them find they’re soothed in each other’s presence.

It kills me. Them being so toxic at the start of it, then somehow ambiguously just hinting towards how things could have went on to be better, could have been headed somewhere nice and healing and healthier, she dies and he dies everyone fucking dies and they forget each other and it ends there they never speak of each other again. Canon wanted me dead specifically. Like remember too that I was there when the last chapters where being released, my ass really was like "Oh I wonder how Falin will react seeing Thistle after being revived!" 🤡 But yess at least that means there’s a lot of Unsaid, a lot of space for speculation, and I want to see what could have been. I want to see it so so bad. It’s so interesting

Post-canon is also so interesting, where they’re sort of recovered but not fully not really, them actually getting to know each other… And she doesn’t remember him but he doesn’t remember her either, in a way they’ve never met even though they have, even though she was the first one on his side since so long, the first hint of companionship he’s had, companionship that he’s so unused to getting that he can’t even recognize it for what it is. He couldn’t even recognize a human standing in front of him!! He is so disconnected from others and the world!! He spoke to ghosts like they had no worries in the world and everyone was ok!! He’s out of touch, tone-deaf af!! Has always been tone-deaf!! Being tone-deaf when he was younger, a stick in the mud, caused him to be more isolated than he already was… Autism4autism, anyways—

It’s them not knowing why or how to express it but being drawn together, a bond forged together by the fire of circumstances and coincidences— or is it only that? No one can know for certain but there’s a grip they have on each other there somehow. Weird distant caring thing. I dont know who you are but I feel like I should know you

It’s like my headcanon that she doesn’t know why, but on her travels she feels something when she comes across wild thistle flowers… There are just faint remnants, whispers of feelings like ghosts.

They should be remnants in each other’s lives. A deja vu of a person in the way Falin hugs small dolls to her chest, or how Thistle reminisces of something when he sees bird feathers discarded on the ground. < This paragraph courtesy of @cabinette’s huge brain

He canonically writes poems btw… Poems would be such a good way for him to get in touch with himself again post-canon, find desires in again and get creative fulfillment. He should make poems about her. To explore and vent and express all the vague feelings and memories he has, both those of during canon and after canon. He doesn’t remember her but he remembers her, slivers of kind eyes and warm gentle hands and healing magic like a blanket…

Yaad, an unlicensed therapist but the best you're gonna get in fantasy land: Maybe you should try journaling.

And too the thing is their relationship with each other in a way is ONLY about themselves, even when Falin is being self-sacrifical it’s less about him and more about how she generally is, that sort of instinct to latch onto someone and just follow along with whatever they do and ask, meanwhile to Thistle she’s only ever been a factor in his plans. Idk idk them getting to that point where they see and know each other, stumbling into that through canon or actively working towards it post-canon, there’s weird beauty in that Like. Thistle cares about her because he’ll take anyone as long as they fit the job description well enough, he’s desperate to find Delgal and will grasp at straws to find him. In a similar way that he’ll reach for someone, anyone’s hand on the verge of death, she seeks to protect someone, anyone. That’s how she centers herself, makes someone her compass and her world. Falin wants to protect someone and Thistle would use anyone, pushed to the states they were in they would latch onto anyone for comfort (caring for him, grabbing Marcille’s hand).

Mirrors truly truly. And Thistle likes to shatter those, and silence anyone who tries to talk to him about reality, so then the option left is to be by him quietly and subtly gradually, gently (her specialty) nudge him in the right direction … Nooo but actually why did he shatter those mirrors. Very interesting to think about. Would seeing himself in others anger him?

I like to call him a ghost of who he was sometimes, a ghost of the past, he’s so haunted, and I think there’s fun imagery there too. The care she offers Thistle somewhat reminds me of the one she offers ghosts. I wonder if part of it is that she sees herself in ghosts, that she wants to offer them freedom and peace of mind she can’t get for herself.

And of course meanwhile on her end, the thistlin arc is also about growing self-respect. I don’t want to see Thistle as a lost cause in saying that her efforts are wasted on him, but being so permissive and invested in him is obviously not healthy for her. She needs to learn when to put her foot down

Oooh, just realized that choosing to eat in this scene was a big character moment all things considered. By eating she faltered in her task, stood up for herself and her needs, was selfish for once (/positive go get your damn food girl). She chose to eat. Anyways

I bet he’s the one who healed her wounds after the Shuro party fight. And on that note— it’s interesting he could change her form from Falin to Faligon without touching her isn’t it? Healing by everyone else like Marcille and Falin always required touch, physical contact between the healer and healee, which some like Chilchuck say is a negative, but… The dungeon lord not needing to touch to heal makes a nice metaphor for how isolating the powers are I think. Truly clinical instead of warm. Theme of community and freely offering affection in Dungeon Meshi etc etc. Like I said, Thistle is out of touch.

The way that he has the powers to change her form and heal and like soo much magic power but he can’t even realize when he’s hurting himself and she’s the one who has to heal him. He’s so fully devoted to the cause even when he acts selfishly that he neglects himself too, and she has to remind him to take care of himself, to eat, etc. That she feeds him. Eating is an act of love to yourself and to life. The berries, the curry, the soup that Thistle refuses to eat—

Do you see the vision. Do you see all the narrative relevance and themes and parallels of their dynamic. To chase ghosts, to cling onto them so they stay with you no matter how warped and ugly they get, and to soothe souls, purifying them and helping them depart for the afterlife… Both magic prodigies whose lives revolve around protecting and caring after their loved ones more than anything else. A family member who looks elsewhere while they are their whole world. They can flee their emotional issues together 🤝 Who are we? Beyond who we love and our power, what are we? I think about the way she cradled him in her arms just before they fell down into the dungeon all the time idk idk

^ End notes from the one fic I wrote about them so far: Slivers, on AO3. For a moment, they were both slivers of themselves, bound together.

Thistle feverishly holding onto ghosts of the past and his source of power, meanwhile Falin cradles the people she can protect in the now with the powers that reside in her… Him cradling his book, her cradling her master……… Parallels

Interlude

And yess it’s important to remember too, Thistle became a mage only after delgal asked… He had innate talent, but moreso than Falin it’s through studies that he learned to actually harness his magic etc. Idk I think it’s an interesting parallel that could have interesting stuff be done on it. People often characterize him as predominantly bratty but. He’s smart and composed he’s mainly smart and composed… He’s unstable and everything during canon was happening all at once with the winged lion being freed and Laios’ party and the canaries and agh </3 He can have a meltdown as a treat he’s smart and cool-headed if it wasn’t for the dungeon wearing on his mind ok… Obvi I love my chars with anger issues but saying he’s overly childish is having tunnel vision I think

Ok so the elephant in the room… First of all how present is Falin in Falugon exactly…… We have no clue. The end sequence does show her in purgatory with a dragon foot holding her down, which can easily be read as it suppressing her personality- with how it’s shown though it feels like she’d be fully suppressed by that? And we know that’s not the case, since not only does she recognize Laios and calls out to him, she hesitates to hurt Kuro because of the dog association, she’s excessively kind towards Thistle, the latter which her Adventurer’s Bible profile confirm to be "her kind nature remaining as the chimera". Maybe it’s a dream-like state? Maybe the dragon is the driving force with the instincts, and it’s only bits of Falin and her personality that show through? A state of mind very primal and not very think-y, even if Falin has enough brains to think of sharing the berries, gesturing and oh- of course, casting magic. No issues with controlling the human half of her body as well. To some degree, her and the dragon are working in tandem. My own preferred interpretation is the driven by instincts one, a state of mind like an actual dragon’s, which in my Falin analysis I delve into the significance of it for other parts of Dunmeshi too. So yeah, dreamlike mindless autopilot… I think exploring her pov as Faligon would go super hard. Aware of her surroundings but sort of disconnected with it, and disconnected from herself too, entirely living in the present… And like with her talking to Laios— the only time she speaks in her chimera form, a simple observation, "Laios, brother", sometimes her human thoughts peek through more sharply, short moments of lucidity… I think it’d be interesting to see an arc where as the chimera, she learns to share the "brainspace" more with the dragon.

It’s also unclear if Thistle had a say in how much of ‘Falin the human’ is in control? He very well might have suppressed her somehow when he changed her form to be more dragonlike. That might also be due to just getting back the dragon meat though— and the dragon meat itself might be why/how the brainspace is shared. There is a lot less of Falin’s body in the chimera than there is of the dragon, body mass wise. Dungeon Meshi is a lot about physicality so I wouldn’t be surprised with this reasoning. But there’s the whole mind control soul bond situation too…

The mind bond is another thing that’s left mostly to interpretation when it comes to the details. She feels compelled to listen to the dungeon lord’s orders as a monster created and owned by it, like the dragons Thistle summoned during the fight at his house, but again like we see with the dragons, if the monster has a "strong will" it can disobey to some level without being punished by the bind or anything. The eyes of the magician, the small wyverns, level-of-control wise can’t be accurate examples because they’re sort of like familiars, Thistle can see through their eyes in real time no matter where they are but it’s only this species as far as we know. So otherwise the mind bond is more subtle… There’s also the question of how much the control is shared between the dungeon lord and the demon, which again Thistle’s situation is exceptional because he managed to seal his demon in a book, presumably all the power goes through Thistle without the intermediate of the winged lion, though we do see he has some reach since he reaches Laios through his dreams. ANYWAYS all that to say. I do really ponder about how a dungeon lord's monsters get their orders, like... For the fight on the first floor, did Falin just feel Thistle's agony in her bones and came clawing and barging her way in desperately and angrily to protect him because of his distress, or did he more directly demand she come, consciously or not?! Idk, since Falin is actively protective of him unlike the dragons who reluctantly listen to him, her being very fast and intense about it doesn’t have to be forced… It’d be interesting if she can sense his feelings, wants or thoughts, bc I don’t think it’s as conscious as like, telepathically communicating "hey you, do this"…? Pondering, pondering. Mind bond <3 Soulbound <3

They’re both very trapped in the past… I wonder if as Faligon a lot of her mind goes back to memories of Laios and such, if she’s in a dreamlike state and not just sort of absent, where would her mind retreat... I don’t think so like I said I think she’s mostly driven by dragonlike mindlessness, but still… Thistle stuck in the search of Delgal, thinking back to everything they’ve shared and where it all went wrong obsessively, and Falin, sort of larping that she’s still beside Laios, not unlike how Thistle treats having the corpses of the royal family at his house like them being safe. Delusions. Idk I just want more character studies.

The metaphors in this truly… It’s not literal, like def not something that happens during canon at no point are they or could be ever atop a mountain of frames and paintings of the Golden Kingdom’s royal family and fine art lmaoo, so then like the meaning behind it all… She offers him reprieve, an outsider from all the Golden Kingdom expectations and drama, just someone warm to lean on, someone who’ll stay…….. I love Faligon pushing him to rest and nap so much. Man has first nap in a thousand years. Feather duvet like a nice warm pillow. The peace she offers him man……. Live in the present bbygirl Unfortunately it doesn't help. Look at them eyebags… Man needs to sleep!!

Part 2

^ This panels drives me crazy It’s the possessivity. It’s the "my". It’s the "stealing".

What if you have fear of abandonment and think you have to prove your worth for people to stay by your side. What if belonging to someone makes you feel like you belong and you feel loved and soothed by it lowkey, feel like it makes things easy. What if I was bought as a slave and servant but I was adopted into a pretty loving family. What if ownership is what love looks like to me. What if that’s why I have no problem rationalizing keeping people against their will in a glorified kingdom-prison, because that’s just what someone with the power who Knows Better does, and… Did he always call her his dragon hello? Feelings

He is not letting it go damn He hates when people mess with what's his. Or Delgal’s.

But imagine. The dragon is like, the last thing he has. The Golden Kingdom has moved on from him, everything is shit, but his dragon is the last thing he still has some realm of like. Ownership over. But that ownership is kinda just his sense of belonging. His role, his duty.  So it’s like "Don’t steal the last thing I have" especially if post-canon… It’s thinking from his time as a jester bought into a loving family that ownership is natural in love and care. It’s thinking that’s the way you get to belong beside someone, beside earning that through achievements and being useful and capable. Everything is being stolen away from him. Control and things and people and even the importance he has to the Golden Kingdom as he becomes part of the background & past history and the kingdom switches into new hands aka Laios’…

My dragon, not the dragon. I do like to imagine especially after the berries he’s starting to feel differently about her. He keeps being like "you’re acting odd, dragon". His dragon is special. She’s not just another regular monster npc to easily replace, there’s human contact in there. His dragon just for him. <3

I do think Falin has some issues with like, asking to be with the people she loves, feeling safe in asking for that, that she’s worth that. She follows them and is quiet and just takes the crumbs of love that they offer, she doesn’t ask Marcille at the academy to spend lunches with her, doesn’t ask anything of her distant busy father and ill anxious mother… The person she did ask things of, Laios, who she always asked to go travel the world with him and whatnot, left her behind. Like how Delgal left Thistle. Theme of leaving </3 theme of family and abandonment issues </3 So she just follows and cares after them and makes herself useful and is grateful she gets to be beside them at all. So yeah what I’m saying is being owned/belonging to someone might feel yeah like, belonging. Being One Person's. He’s seen her at her worst and most bloody and raw, and still wants her? Very comforting And especially post-canon he doesn’t need her to be witty or useful or such, he just needs her love and that’s what she has lots to give.

Do you think Falin wants to be needed… Do you think she’s a little restless if she doesn’t feel like she is, like she thinks just like Laios people might leave you behind and you never see them again.  It’s also because of what she said, that she put others before herself, that she just followed/imprinted on her parents/Laios/Marcille. She avoided conflict, she wanted to be liked and live in peace. The only times she was selfish, she hurt people (left school for Laios, sacrificed herself for them, teleported them out despite possibly hurting people on the surface), so she chooses to be selfless instead. "One of the most selfish things i've ever done was barely even for the sake of myself" - Falin and Toshiro both hah Falin is often told she doesn’t care the right way or not enough, you’re cutting classes Falin, I’m upset you left me and you don’t even seem to think it’s a big deal Falin, you shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself to save me (her not noticing her ostracization in her village wasn’t told to her but I’m including it also). And with Toshiro when considering her proposal, she was worried to accept because yeah it’s have been convenient but she wouldn’t be reciprocating his feelings in the way he wants and expected her to with what he asked of her… And she’s worried it wouldn’t be right… Bc she doesn’t care about the proposal on the same level he does….. I just think that’s neat I think that Falin caring both too little and too much, with laser focus on Laios & Marcille neglecting even herself, is a big part of her. She focuses on others and their emotional needs so so much always, babygirl be selfish for a while…

Thistle’s interaction with Laios is interesting too, especiaoly when Kaios heals him. How he looks at his shoulder, surprised and confused… Guy who's used to not having his personal needs met because he's so busy doing everything for the people he cares about receives care??? Woah that’s crazy Something something being so unused to human contact and affection that you don’t know how to process it and don’t recognize it when it happens/stares you right in the face. Thistle the Toudens are gonna make you open up ur heart to humans again on god…

What if… He doesn’t want to admit she’s not the dragon. If he admits it’s not the dragon that means giving up some control… This was not in his plan, he doesn’t know how well he can control a chimera rather than a dragon, it’s weakness it’s vulnerability it’s feeling like he’s losing his grip on everything again and thus losing his place and purpose. Hmm…

Finding yourself through someone else… Because defining yourself through others is what you’ve always done… Yeah. Yeah.

I do love it tying into Falin’s arc of finding herself. Like, she doesn’t remember her time as a chimera, she just remembers this guy she has conflicted but fond feelings of for some reason, so say if they travel post-canon, traveling with him would also be a way to figure out more how she’s feeling, and then there’s how when looking at him she gets the feeling that it’s been a long time he hasn’t lived for himself either… And like for him traveling is about seeing the world a bit too. Seeing it not as something to control or always dangerous but something to explore, and just enjoy the little things instead of worrying about the court. And just. Aghhhh. He hasn’t had someone on his side for centuries. Sighs. Of course Yaad also becomes that largely but traveling post-canon with Falin… Would love to see that in fancontent

Them growing to SEE each other, with the film in front of their eyes slowly fading away. Both of them coming out of it more genuine than they’d been even before meeting, before becoming warped, growing more comfortable in their skin and with the thought of connecting with others. It’s the mutual care <33 it’s having been on each other’s side at both your ugliest <3 Unconventional caring...

Toshiro saying "you can’t tie down a dragon" is always so good… Someone should so do stuff with that. "But you can tame it" / "I tried to once" / "but she chose to stay with me anyways"… Musical theme of How to Train your Dragon starts playing in the distance

When/after they get together, I feel like their relationship isn’t something they like to label… If anything it’s like. Partner. Or calling each other by name… Him calling her my dragon, except now it’s warm and personal would be so. Aughh <3 But then that just also makes the first time he calls her by name so huge.

Conclusion

They and their relationship is weird and unusual but that’s just how they are, and how they need to accept themselves (again: as they are) and roll with it! And make a place in the world for them anyways!

Magic forced them to be vulnerable in front of each other but it’s them who have to like… Be pushed out of their passivity and do something with that vulnerability.

BROTHERSSS THEY’RE BOTH ALL ABOUT BROTHERS. LEAVING. OUT OF TOUCH WITH REALITY. OUT OF TOUCH WITH THEMSELVES AND THEIR OWN IDENTITY. In a twisted way only the other would understand what it’s like.

Thistlin is so crazy, in humanizing you it humanizes me, in recognizing you for what you are I get more back in touch with the world again.

Flighted birds have hollow bones. With freedom there are risks and drawbacks. Thistle was Falin’s.

It’s not everyday you can have a ship where both characters are out of touch with reality and others and themselves and have this weird almost innate bond of her being compelled to protect him and care for him and him holding onto that unknowingly… Even if he didn’t need to, keeping her by himself and sitting on her while he plans and has a panic attack….. And also he owns her and robbed her of her freedom & body & full mind but she still wuvs him. Weird intimacy with the guy who horrifically changed you into something else, and yet is not even aware he has done it.

Falin loves nature and Thistle is named after a flower… Her post-canon coming across wild thistles and feeling a rush of fondness and she doesn’t know why… Thistles have thorns, but they taste sweet. Just gotta peel them off and enjoys the sweet taste of it once it’s open <3 Eat it like them honeysuckles

Slice of life 40k words thistlin sitcom I need you. Don’t make me write it myself. Sob

You are so so close sweetie…

wutiwant

I don't know what I want But I know it's not this These words don't mean nothing Once they left my lips More awake inside of my dreams Was that really you, next to me? Give me what I want, who am I supposed to please? Who am I supposed to please? Who am I? Who am I? I? Give me what I want Give me what I want

Some links, since the pair is small enough that finding stuff for them can be hard: Falin & Thistle search on pixiv Falin & Thistle search on danbooru Ao3: Thistle x Falin, Thistle & Falin Ship names: ファリシス / シスファリ. Thistlin

My own spotify playlists: Thistle & Falin, Thistle, Falin

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