#but i think it does kinda set the tone for the series with how slow and unchanging life in a small town can be

[disarminglybright]

Funny thing about letterkenny is like- you don't really know anything about the characters. It really does feel like you're just catching glimpses of their lives during their off hours

[solxamber]

Hi! Just wanted to say I’m in love with your TWST writing. Was just reading the white rabbit series and I’m hooked. In part 3 we see that White Rabbit! Reader is 100% not ok, mostly because nothing has changed. They still have all their work to do, all their school work, all the “requests” from the NRC boys and staff, and they are STILL being teased. Sure the teasing may have changed a little but it’s still there. Reader is still being brushed aside, not listened to. Characters like Crewel and Leona may say they like the change, and that kinda hurts? They like reader being burnt out and just so worn down? Everyone seems to have comments on what they think, but have they asked what our little rabbit thinks? What reader feels? Do any of them realize just how much our White Rabbit actually does for everyone?

I kinda want to see White Rabbit! Reader snap again and just get teary eyed and say how the other overblots got support and can change, but reader still has a role. Reader can’t stop doing their work. They just can’t care anymore because it’s clear others don’t care about them. If others think it’s so good for them to be like this then what does that mean? Reader doesn’t want to be stressed out. They don’t want to lash out and hurt others, they never did. But they just feel so worn and done with it all.

IDK I just see it being such good hurt/comfort fic material. Rabbits may be prey but they aren’t just weak and defenseless. Our little rabbit thought has just had enough. I’d love to see your take on this.

Hope you’re doing well!

White Rabbit! Reader Aftermath

Original Ask ; Rabbit Overblots ; Overblot Aftermath

Characters: All NRC + Staff, Rollo, Neige, Che'nya

hi! I'm sorry it took so long, it went way too long and got out of hand. i hope you like it <3

Riddle Rosehearts:

Riddle noticed something was wrong. It was in the way your shoulders sagged under the weight of another endless list of tasks. It was in the way your normally brisk pace had slowed, as if each step you took was through quicksand. But he didn't say anything—not at first.

You were always like this, weren’t you? Always running late, always fretting about something. He just assumed it was your usual nervous nature.

Except, it wasn't.

The change was subtle, but there was something different in your eyes now. Something darker. You still did the work, you still completed each task with quiet efficiency, but the politeness had taken on an edge of detachment. You weren’t anxious anymore—you were done.

"Here's the report you wanted," you said one evening, handing him a set of documents. Your voice was flat, no longer laced with the apprehension he’d grown used to. There was no fidgeting, no desperate need for approval in your tone.

Riddle paused, looking up from his desk. "Is everything alright?" The question was curt, almost accusatory, as if he was more irritated by your change in demeanor than concerned.

You gave him a tired smile. "Does it matter?"

His brows furrowed. "Of course it matters! You’ve been acting strange."

You laughed—a bitter, hollow sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “Strange? No, Riddle, I’ve been tired. You’ve never noticed that before, have you?”

The air between you stilled, a suffocating weight pressing down as he processed your words. You were always so compliant, so willing to go along with everything. He’d assumed you preferred it that way. After all, hadn’t you always done your work without complaint?

But now, seeing the exhaustion etched into your face, the lifelessness behind your eyes, he realized he’d been wrong. He’d taken your compliance as a given, never once considering the toll it had been taking on you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked, but the question felt hollow even as it left his lips.

“Would you have listened?” you shot back, your voice soft but cutting. “When have any of you ever really listened to what I have to say?”

Riddle swallowed hard, the sting of your words settling deep in his chest. He prided himself on fairness, on order, but he hadn’t been fair to you. He hadn’t been listening.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with something that felt dangerously close to vulnerability. “I should have seen it. I didn’t realize how much I was asking of you."

You shook your head, not in anger, but in resignation. “I’m not asking for much, Riddle. I just need someone to care. Really care.”

For the first time, Riddle felt helpless, unsure of how to fix what had been broken between you. But he stepped forward, awkwardly placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to offer some comfort—an unspoken promise to do better.

“I’ll be better,” he murmured, “for you.”

Trey Clover:

Trey always noticed things. The way you bit your lip when you were nervous, the way your eyes darted around as if you were constantly expecting something to go wrong. But now, things were different.

It wasn’t the nervous energy that worried him. It was the stillness.

You sat at the table in the Heartslabyul kitchen, staring blankly at the open textbook in front of you. You had come to help him prepare for the next Unbirthday Party, like you always did, but tonight you barely spoke.

Trey placed a cup of tea in front of you, watching as you absently reached for it. “You okay?” he asked gently.

You blinked, as if snapping out of a daze, and gave him a tired smile. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t. You hadn’t been for a while now.

Trey sat down across from you, resting his elbows on the table as he studied your face. “You don’t look fine. You’ve been quiet lately. More than usual.”

You shrugged, staring down into your cup. “Just tired, I guess.”

Trey wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t good with words, not in the way Cater or Riddle were. But he didn’t need words to see that something was wrong. The way your hands trembled slightly as you held the cup, the way your shoulders seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“You’ve been overworking yourself, haven’t you?” he asked, voice soft but firm.

You let out a dry laugh. “When am I not overworked?”

Trey frowned. “That’s not fair to you.”

“No, it’s not,” you agreed quietly, setting the cup down. “But it’s what’s expected, isn’t it? Someone has to keep things running smoothly.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. His fingers were warm, steady—a stark contrast to the coldness you felt creeping into your bones.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know,” he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You can ask for help.”

You shook your head, the weight of his kindness almost unbearable. “And burden everyone else? I don’t want to be a problem.”

Trey’s grip on your hand tightened slightly. “You’re not a problem. You’re important. To all of us.”

You looked up, meeting his gaze for the first time that night, and the sincerity in his eyes nearly broke you. He meant it. He really meant it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ve just been so tired, Trey. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

He stood then, moving around the table to pull you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you with a quiet strength that made you feel safe—really safe—for the first time in weeks.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head. “I’ve got you.”

Cater Diamond:

Cater was all smiles and sunshine. That’s what people saw. But he noticed things—small things, cracks in people’s facades. He was an expert at it because he had so many cracks of his own.

So, when he saw you dragging yourself through the day, your usual nervous energy replaced by something much darker, much heavier, he didn’t ignore it.

“Hey! Let’s take a selfie!” he chirped, pulling out his phone as he bounced over to you.

You blinked, staring at him like you hadn’t heard a word. “I’m not in the mood, Cater.”

Cater paused, lowering his phone. That was definitely not like you. Normally, even if you were frazzled, you’d humor him. You always did.

“You sure?” he asked, tilting his head as he scrutinized your face. “You’re looking kinda down, you know.”

You sighed, rubbing at your eyes. “I’m just… tired, Cater. I’m really tired."

Cater dropped the playful act immediately, his smile fading as he tucked his phone away. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. “No one wants to hear me complain.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he said, sitting down next to you, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “I’m here for you, okay? What’s up?”

You hesitated, biting your lip as the weight of everything threatened to crash down on you. “It’s just… everything. No one listens. No one notices. I do all this work, and no one cares. It’s like I’m invisible.”

Cater frowned, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, that’s not true. We care. I care.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “Do you? Do any of you? Or am I just the White Rabbit, always running around, doing everyone’s bidding, never being heard?”

Cater’s heart ached at the pain in your voice. He’d been so wrapped up in his own facade, his own distractions, that he hadn’t realized just how much you were hurting.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his usual playful tone replaced with sincerity. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve asked sooner.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes as you tried to hold yourself together. “It’s not your fault. I just… I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Cater pulled you into a tight hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as he whispered, “You’re not alone, okay? You’ve got me. You’ve got all of us."

Ace Trappola:

Ace wasn’t exactly the most sensitive person in the world, but even he wasn’t oblivious to the way you had been acting lately. You were quieter than usual, more withdrawn. It wasn’t like you at all.

“Yo, what’s up with you?” Ace asked as he plopped down next to you in the courtyard, his usual smirk in place. “You’ve been acting super weird lately.”

You didn’t even look up from your book. “I’m fine.”

Ace narrowed his eyes. “Nah, you’re not. You

Ace narrowed his eyes. “Nah, you’re not. You’re like, super off. What’s going on? You never act like this.”

You finally looked up from your book, your expression weary and drained, like someone who had been running for far too long. “I’m just… tired, Ace.”

“Tired?” He scoffed, nudging your shoulder. “We all get tired, but you look like you’re about to keel over.”

You sighed, closing the book and turning to face him. “It’s not that kind of tired. It’s the kind of tired where you’ve been working non-stop, doing everything everyone asks of you, and no one ever bothers to ask if you need help.”

Ace blinked, clearly taken aback by your bluntness. He opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning as if he didn’t quite know how to respond. “Wait, is this about all the stuff we’ve been asking you to do? ‘Cause I didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem, Ace,” you interrupted, voice tight with frustration. “No one ever thinks. You all just assume I’ll do it, and I do, because I don’t want to let anyone down. But I’m tired. I’m so tired.”

He shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I… I didn’t realize it was that bad. I just figured you liked doing stuff like that—keeping busy, you know?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Liked it? I do it because I don’t have a choice. You all ask, and I say yes because that’s what’s expected of me. But no one ever asks if I’m okay, or if I need a break.”

Ace’s smirk was gone now, replaced with an uncharacteristic seriousness. He didn’t like feeling guilty—he hated it, in fact—but there was no denying the weight of your words.

“...Damn,” he muttered, looking away. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to… you know, pile all that stuff on you.”

You slumped back against the bench, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “It’s not just you. It’s everyone. But I appreciate the apology.”

Ace was quiet for a moment before he nudged you again, a little gentler this time. “Hey, listen. I’m not exactly good at this whole feelings thing, but… you don’t have to do all this alone, okay? Next time you’re feeling burnt out, just say something. I’m not completely heartless, you know.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

��Good,” Ace said with a grin, his usual cocky tone returning. “And don’t worry, I’ll be the first to jump in and tell everyone to back off. I got your back.”

For the first time in a while, you felt a little lighter. “Thanks, Ace.”

Deuce Spade:

Deuce always noticed when something was off, especially when it came to people he cared about. So when you started acting distant, quieter than usual, it didn’t take long for him to pick up on it.

He found you one afternoon sitting by the fountain, staring blankly at the water. You didn’t even notice when he approached, lost in your own thoughts.

“Hey,” Deuce said softly, sitting down beside you. “You okay?”

You blinked, looking over at him like you hadn’t even realized he was there. “Oh. Deuce. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He frowned, not buying it for a second. “You don’t look fine. You’ve been really quiet lately.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I’m just… tired. It’s been a lot.”

Deuce tilted his head, his concern growing. “A lot of what?”

You hesitated, unsure if you should even bother explaining. But then again, Deuce wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t someone who would brush you off or tease you for feeling overwhelmed.

“It’s just… everything,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “All the tasks, the work, the pressure. It’s like no one ever stops to think about how much I have on my plate. I keep doing everything they ask because I don’t want to let anyone down, but I’m at my limit.”

Deuce’s frown deepened. He had always admired your work ethic, your ability to handle so much without complaint. But now, seeing you like this—so drained, so worn out—it hurt him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I didn’t know it was that bad,” he said quietly, his voice laced with guilt. “Why didn’t you say something?”

You shook your head, your eyes cast down. “Would anyone have listened?”

Deuce was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched as he processed your words. He hated that you had been carrying this burden alone, that you felt like no one cared enough to notice. He wasn’t good with words, but he wasn’t going to let you suffer in silence anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve done something sooner.”

You glanced up at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Deuce. I just… I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” Deuce said, his tone resolute. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But even strong people need help sometimes.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and for the first time in weeks, you felt the weight on your shoulders lighten just a little.

Deuce reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll help you, okay? Whatever you need, just say the word.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you, Deuce.”

He smiled, a soft, reassuring smile that made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you thought.

And in that moment, sitting by the fountain with Deuce by your side, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona was lounging in his usual spot in the botanical garden, eyes half-lidded as he observed you marching around like some overworked servant. It had been days since your overblot, but not much had changed for you. The requests from students, the impossible deadlines from professors, the teasing from those who had the nerve to think your meekness made you an easy target—it was all still there. But now, there was something else in you too: a biting cynicism that wasn’t there before.

And Leona noticed.

“You’re looking different these days, Herbivore,” Leona drawled from his spot, smirking when you paused to look at him. “I like it. That whole ‘cynical, done-with-everyone’s-bullshit’ vibe suits you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head and trying to ignore him. “Yeah, well. I guess you could say I’ve had a change in perspective.”

Leona raised a brow, sitting up slightly. “About time. You were way too nice, always letting people walk all over you. This version of you? It’s more interesting.”

You should’ve been fine with his words. Normally, you would’ve brushed it off, even if the new cynicism was a product of your exhaustion and burnout. But hearing Leona praise you for being this way, like the months of silent suffering were a badge of honor—it was too much.

You dropped your books and spun around, the words spilling out before you could stop yourself. “Interesting?! You think this is interesting? I’ve been running myself into the ground, doing everything everyone asks of me because I’m too tired to say no. I’m burned out, Leona. I’m not ‘more interesting,’ I’m barely holding it together!”

Your voice broke at the end, and before you knew it, you were trembling. All the stress, all the exhaustion, it came pouring out in one unguarded moment.

Leona blinked, taken aback by your outburst. He hadn’t expected you to break down like this. Slowly, he stood up from his spot and approached you, his usual lazy expression replaced by something more serious.

“Hey,” he said, his voice lower now, gentler. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You tried to hold back the tears, but it was too late. Your whole body was shaking with the weight of everything you’d been carrying, and the stress of it all finally crashed over you like a wave. You covered your face with your hands, overwhelmed and embarrassed.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Leona sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stood there awkwardly for a moment. Comforting people wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but seeing you like this—it stirred something in him.

“Alright, alright, come here,” he muttered, pulling you into a loose hug, his arms warm and strong around you. “You don’t gotta keep doing everything, you know? I know I give you a hard time, but even I don’t think you should burn out like this.”

You hesitated, but then let yourself lean into him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you tried to calm down.

“I just… I don’t know how to stop,” you whispered.

Leona sighed again, holding you a little tighter. “Then maybe it’s time to start saying no. And if people give you grief, send ‘em my way. I’ll take care of it.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the absurdity of Leona offering to help in his own gruff way almost making you feel a little better. Almost.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your voice still small but a little more steady. “I… I needed that.”

He didn’t respond, just held you a little longer until your breathing finally evened out. And though he didn’t say it, you could tell—despite his teasing, despite his indifference—Leona wasn’t about to let you crumble under the pressure. Not on his watch.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie had always been good at picking up on little details. As someone who thrived on reading people, it wasn’t hard for him to notice that something was up with you. The way you dragged your feet through the halls, the forced smile you’d plaster on whenever someone asked you for a favor—it wasn’t hard to tell you were burning out.

“Oi, you look like you’ve been run over by a stampede,” Ruggie commented, popping up beside you in the cafeteria one afternoon. He snatched a bite of your sandwich before you could react, grinning when you barely even protested. “What’s up with you? You’re usually a little more, I dunno, lively.”

You glanced at him, too tired to even scold him for stealing your food. “I’m just tired, Ruggie. Really tired.”

Ruggie raised a brow, his grin faltering a little. “Tired? Like, you haven’t slept? Or tired like ‘I’m about to drop dead from all the stuff I’ve been doing for other people’ tired?”

You gave him a look, and he immediately understood. “Ahh, the second one, huh? That’s rough, man.”

You sighed, pushing your tray away. “It’s just… it’s a lot. I keep doing everything everyone asks, and no one ever stops to think that maybe I need a break. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

Ruggie frowned, his usual mischievous expression softening. He wasn’t one for heartfelt speeches, but he knew what it was like to be overworked and overlooked. He had spent most of his life like that, after all.

“Hey, look, you don’t gotta do everything, y’know?” he said, leaning back in his chair. “People here? They’ll keep asking as long as you keep saying yes. But if you’re feeling wiped, maybe it’s time to start saying no. You’re not a machine.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Easier said than done.”

Ruggie shrugged, snatching another bite of your food before giving you a playful grin. “Well, if it helps, I’ll start saying no for you. Anyone bothers you, just send ‘em my way. I can be real convincing when I wanna be.”

You smiled, a small, genuine one this time. “Thanks, Ruggie.”

“No problem,” he said, his grin widening. “And hey, don’t stress. I’ve got your back.”

Jack Howl:

Jack had always been observant, especially when it came to his friends. So when you started acting different—quieter, more withdrawn—it didn’t take long for him to notice. He wasn’t the type to pry, but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

One afternoon, he found you sitting outside the gym, your head in your hands. He approached cautiously, not wanting to startle you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You okay?”

You looked up, surprised to see him. “Oh, Jack. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He frowned, his golden eyes narrowing. “You don’t look fine.”

You sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I’m just… tired. It’s been a lot.”

Jack sat down beside you, his posture straight and steady. “A lot of what?”

You hesitated, but something about Jack’s calm presence made it easier to open up. “Everything. School, work, everyone asking me for favors. It’s like no one ever thinks I might need a break. I just… I don’t know how to keep up.”

Jack was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. He had always admired your work ethic, but seeing you so worn out—it didn’t sit right with him.

“You don’t have to do it all alone, you know,” Jack said, his voice steady. “You’ve always been there for everyone else. Let me be there for you this time.”

You blinked, surprised by his words. Jack wasn’t usually one for grand gestures, but his sincerity was unmistakable.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you murmured.

“You’re not a burden,” Jack said firmly, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But even the strongest need help sometimes.”

The weight of his words hit you, and for the first time in days, you felt like you didn’t have to carry everything alone.

“Thanks, Jack,” you said softly, your heart feeling a little lighter.

He nodded, his usual serious expression softening into a small, reassuring smile. “Anytime.”

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul was a businessman at heart, sharp-eyed and always aware of people’s shifts in demeanor. He had noticed, of course, that your usually skittish nature had dulled over the past few weeks. At first, he’d dismissed it as another bout of anxiety, something he could handle with a few soft words or requests framed as favors. But now, after your overblot, he couldn’t ignore the change.

The sharp edge of your exhaustion was a palpable thing.

He found you in the library, surrounded by textbooks, scribbling notes with a frenetic energy that felt more like desperation than focus. He watched you for a moment, eyes narrowing behind his glasses as he adjusted them.

“Ah, there you are,” he said smoothly, striding over to you. “I’ve been meaning to discuss our little arrangement. It seems you haven’t fulfilled your duties as of late.”

You didn’t even look up. “Not now, Azul.”

Azul blinked. That was… new. Usually, your nervousness kicked in the moment you even thought you’d disappointed him. Now? Nothing. Just tired resignation.

He sat down across from you, leaning forward. “You seem… different, lately.”

You sighed, setting your pen down with a shaky hand. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Azul’s confidence faltered. “You’re… not going to elaborate?”

Finally, you met his eyes. “What do you want me to say, Azul? That I’m fine? That everything is just peachy? Because it’s not. I’m tired. And not in the ‘oh, I need a nap’ way. In the ‘I don’t know how to keep going’ way.”

His brows furrowed. That wasn’t what he expected. Azul wasn’t always the best at handling raw emotion, especially when it wasn’t something he could exploit or fix with a contract. But for some reason, hearing you say that struck a chord in him he didn’t often feel.

“Have you… considered taking a break?” he offered, almost hesitant.

You laughed, a bitter sound that made his stomach twist uncomfortably. “A break? When? Between the assignments, the favors, the expectations? When would I possibly have time for that?”

Azul was silent, watching the weight of your words settle in the air between you. For once, he didn’t have a calculated response. He didn’t know what to say to someone who was clearly at the end of their rope.

After a moment, he placed his hands on the table, fingers lacing together. “Perhaps I’ve asked too much of you. I… didn’t realize the extent.”

You shook your head, eyes distant. “It’s not just you, Azul. It’s everything.”

And for the first time, Azul didn’t know how to respond with anything but quiet understanding.

Jade Leech:

Jade had always been observant. His eyes tracked your movements from the moment you entered the lounge, slower, more deliberate than usual. Your once-anxious energy had dulled into something colder, more cynical. There was no hesitation in your step now, but there was no spark either.

He approached you, ever the gentleman, with a soft smile. “Ah, Prefect, it’s good to see you. I hope you’re not overworking yourself.”

You gave him a look, flat and unimpressed. “Funny.”

Jade raised an eyebrow at your tone. “I was being sincere.”

“Yeah, sure.” You walked past him, barely acknowledging his presence. Jade felt something akin to amusement, though there was an edge of concern to it. He followed after you, steps as smooth as ever.

“I must say, your demeanor has changed since the… incident.”

You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “You mean the overblot? Yeah, I guess that’ll change a person.”

Jade’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “You seem less… timid.”

“Maybe I’m just tired of being scared,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “It’s exhausting.”

Jade tilted his head, studying you with a quiet intensity. “I see. And this exhaustion—how do you plan to handle it?”

You let out a sharp laugh, devoid of humor. “Handle it? I don’t know, Jade. How do you handle it when you’re expected to do everything and still be okay?”

He paused, not expecting such bluntness from you. His smile softened just a fraction. “Perhaps you should give yourself permission to fail once in a while.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. Jade rarely dropped his formal, polite mask, but there was something almost… genuine in his suggestion. For once, he wasn’t teasing or testing you. He was offering something that felt like understanding.

“I’ll try,” you said softly, feeling a lump in your throat. “I’ll try.”

Floyd Leech:

Floyd had always loved messing with you. You were jumpy, reactive, and so easy to fluster. It was fun, in the way that poking at a small, defenseless animal was fun to a predator. But now? Now you didn’t react at all.

He leaned over your shoulder one day in the cafeteria, poking your cheek. “Heyyyy, Rabbity, whatcha doin’? You’re not runnin’ away from me today?”

You barely spared him a glance. “Not today, Floyd.”

Floyd blinked, frowning at your monotone response. Usually, you’d stammer, scurry away, or at least give him something fun to work with. Now? Nothing.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re no fun anymore.” He flopped down beside you, pouting dramatically. “You’re always so serious now.”

You sighed, not even looking up from your food. “Maybe I’m tired of being the punchline, Floyd.”

That made him pause. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Huh?”

“I said,” you turned to face him, eyes weary and tired, “I’m tired, Floyd. I’m tired of always being the one everyone messes with. I’m tired of being everyone’s joke.”

Floyd’s pout deepened, but now there was confusion in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that… It’s just fun, y’know?”

“Well, it’s not fun for me anymore,” you said quietly, turning back to your food.

Floyd didn’t say anything for a long moment, his usual mischievous energy fizzling out. He wasn’t good at dealing with… feelings. But something about the way you looked—so small, so tired—made his chest feel tight in a way he didn’t like.

He leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re no fun when you’re all sad like this.”

You snorted softly. “Yeah, well. Life isn’t always fun.”

Floyd stayed silent for a while, the frown still on his face. Then, suddenly, he draped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Don’t get all boring on me, okay? I like it when Shrimpy’s feisty.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, just a little. It was a weak sound, but it was something. Floyd grinned at that, squeezing you tighter.

“See? There’s the Rabbity I like.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim had always been sunshine, too bright for his own good. He’d been one of the few who never seemed to notice how much the constant pressure was getting to you. His joy and excitement for life often overshadowed the quieter struggles of those around him, including you.

After your overblot, Kalim’s usual exuberance had dimmed. He’d been visibly shaken, his bright smile faltering when he saw you again. He greeted you with his usual enthusiasm, but there was a tremor of uncertainty in his voice.

“Hey! How are you feeling? Do you want to have a party? To celebrate you feeling better?”

You glanced up at him, eyes hollow. “I’m fine, Kalim.”

He tilted his head, concerned. “Are you sure? You don’t sound fine. Maybe some music and dancing will cheer you up!”

Normally, his carefree energy might’ve been endearing, but today it grated on your nerves. You shook your head, feeling the weight of your exhaustion press down harder. “I’m tired, Kalim.”

His smile wavered. “Oh… well, we can have a quiet party then! Just you, me, and Jamil. We don’t even have to dance if you don’t want to.”

You sighed, finally looking at him, and the moment he saw the weariness in your eyes, his face fell. The ever-bubbly Kalim looked… lost.

“Kalim,” you said, rubbing your temples, “I’m tired. Really tired. And it’s not the kind of tired that a party can fix.”

Kalim’s eyes widened. “Oh… I didn’t realize you were that tired.” He shifted, fidgeting with his bracelets. “I don’t like seeing you like this. You’re always working so hard, and I thought maybe I could make you smile...”

Your heart clenched at the sincerity in his voice. Kalim, for all his obliviousness, genuinely cared. His way of expressing it might have been overwhelming, but there was no doubt that his concern was real.

“I appreciate it,” you said softly, giving him a small, tired smile. “But right now, I just need to rest.”

Kalim’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “Okay, no party then. Just… let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, alright?”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Kalim.”

He smiled again, softer this time, but still as warm as ever. “Anything for you.”

Jamil Viper:

Jamil was observant—painfully so. Unlike Kalim, he’d seen the signs of your burnout long before you reached the point of overblotting. But Jamil, being Jamil, hadn’t stepped in. Not because he didn’t care, but because he knew what it was like to carry the weight of responsibilities without complaint. In his eyes, everyone had their burdens to bear.

Still, seeing you now, after everything, was unsettling.

You were in Scarabia, helping Kalim with some menial task that Jamil knew could’ve been handled by literally anyone else. Your once jittery energy had dulled to something almost robotic, and Jamil couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong.

He approached you cautiously, arms crossed. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

You didn’t look up from your work. “Just tired.”

Jamil’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been ‘just tired’ for a while now.”

You sighed, finally pausing and turning to face him. “I overblotted, Jamil. What do you expect?”

He didn’t flinch at your words, but the tension in the air thickened. Jamil had always been blunt, but seeing you like this stirred something in him that he didn’t quite like.

“Overblot or not, you’re still here, doing things that aren’t your responsibility,” he said, voice flat. “Why?”

“Because if I don’t, who will?” you snapped, the bitterness in your voice surprising even yourself. You were sick of it. Sick of doing everything and being noticed for nothing. “Everyone expects me to keep going, so I keep going.”

Jamil’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, perhaps. He had been part of that cycle, hadn’t he? Always asking, always expecting, never really considering how much you were carrying on your own.

After a moment, he sighed, his voice softer than usual. “You don’t have to keep going like this, you know.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden gentleness in his tone. “What?”

“You don’t have to be everything to everyone,” Jamil continued, glancing away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re trapped in expectations, but… burning yourself out won’t fix anything.”

For a moment, you were silent, the weight of his words settling over you. It wasn’t like Jamil to be so direct about emotions—at least, not with you. He always kept a safe distance, but now, he was offering something more genuine.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “I don’t know how to stop.”

Jamil’s gaze softened, just slightly. “You’re not alone in this. You have people who care. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to crack the walls you’d built around yourself. The exhaustion, the stress, it all felt a little lighter in that moment.

“Thanks, Jamil,” you said quietly, giving him a tired smile.

Jamil gave a small nod, his usual stoicism returning. “Just… try not to overwork yourself again. I have enough on my plate with Kalim.”

You chuckled, the sound weak but genuine. “I’ll try.”

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil had always been a stickler for perfection. His eyes caught every flaw, every imperfection, even the ones that others didn’t notice—or couldn’t care about. So, it was no surprise when he caught you slouching, your hair slightly disheveled, and your usual anxious attention to detail completely absent.

You were exhausted—burnt out to the point where nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Vil clicked his tongue in disapproval as he crossed his arms. “You’ve really let yourself go, haven’t you?”

His tone was sharp, but the comment barely made a dent in your shell of apathy. You just blinked up at him, too tired to even flinch at the judgment.

“Yeah,” you muttered, barely audible. “I guess I have.”

Vil’s violet eyes narrowed, and he placed a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “This isn’t like you. The White Rabbit I know was always meticulous, even when the rest of you was a mess.”

The words echoed in the air, but you didn’t respond. You knew he wasn’t wrong. The old you would’ve scrambled to fix your appearance, to make sure you lived up to Vil’s impossible standards. But now, you felt too tired to care. What did it matter?

Vil’s frown deepened as he studied you, and something flickered in his gaze—something like concern. “You’re not even going to argue?” he asked, voice softer than before.

You shrugged, staring at your hands. “What’s the point?”

For a moment, there was silence. Vil wasn’t used to this—this version of you that didn’t rise to meet his expectations or bristle under his critiques. The fire that once kept you moving, always trying to prove yourself, was gone.

And it scared him.

Vil stepped closer, his sharpness fading as he crouched slightly to meet your gaze. “What’s going on with you?”

You finally looked up at him, your eyes hollow and tired. “I’m just… tired, Vil. I don’t care anymore. About any of it.”

His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the perfect image of Vil Schoenheit cracked. He saw the depth of your exhaustion—the weight you’d been carrying for so long. He realized, maybe for the first time, that your relentless need to keep up with him had finally broken you.

Without a word, he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. “You don’t have to keep doing this. Not for me, not for anyone.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing as the apathy began to crumble. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you shook your head. “But if I don’t, who will?”

Vil’s expression softened in a way that you rarely saw. “I’m not asking for perfection. Not from you.” He paused, squeezing your shoulder lightly. “I just want you to be okay.”

That was it. The dam broke, and tears streamed down your face as you finally let go of the weight you’d been carrying. Vil didn’t say anything more, just stayed by your side, offering a silent presence as you let yourself fall apart.

Rook Hunt:

Rook Hunt was, in every way, overwhelming. His poetic flair, his dramatic declarations of admiration, and his constant observations—usually about things you wished he wouldn’t notice—had been a source of both irritation and amusement in your life. But now, you found yourself unable to muster even the faintest reaction to his eccentricity.

He had been watching you, of course. Rook always noticed everything, and this time was no different. He approached you with a grin, as though he had a secret only the two of you would understand.

“Mon lapin! You seem to have taken on a new air of mystery, how delightful!” His voice was filled with excitement, expecting a reaction—your usual nervous laughter or maybe a shy protest.

But instead, you just stared blankly at him. “Yeah. Sure, Rook.”

For a brief second, his smile faltered, his eyes scanning your face carefully. You weren’t biting back, weren’t stammering nervously or trying to evade his intense gaze. You were just… blank.

“Something is amiss, non?” His voice softened, a rare gentleness creeping in as he knelt beside you, lowering himself to your eye level. “You’re not yourself today, mon ami.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I don’t know if I even know who that is anymore.”

Rook tilted his head, his usual theatrics fading. “Ah, you are weary… far too weary for someone so full of life.” His words were soft, his voice no longer teasing but understanding.

“I’m just… tired, Rook. Of everything.” You rubbed your face, trying to shake off the numbness, but it clung to you like a second skin.

Rook, for once, didn’t offer a poetic response or some elaborate metaphor. Instead, he reached out and gently took your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles in a quiet gesture of comfort. “You don’t need to explain,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “But you don’t have to carry it alone, either.”

Something in his words broke through the wall you’d built around yourself, and you looked at him, your eyes burning with unshed tears. “I don’t know what to do, Rook. I’m so tired.”

Rook’s expression softened even further, and he smiled, a tender, genuine smile that made your heart ache. “Then rest. You are not a failure for needing time, mon lapin. Even the moon takes its time to rise.”

The tears finally spilled over, and Rook pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both comforting and protective. “You are not alone,” he whispered. “Not while I am here.”

Epel Felmier:

Epel had always admired your resilience. To him, you were someone who, despite being shy and quiet, had a certain strength that he respected. But lately, he noticed that something was different. You weren’t reacting the way you used to. You weren’t as anxious or jumpy, but… you weren’t really you either.

One afternoon, Epel found you sitting in the courtyard, staring blankly at the sky. He approached with a grin, his usual proud, determined expression in place. “You’re not lettin’ anyone push ya around anymore, huh? I’m proud of ya for that."

You glanced at him, managing a weak smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

Epel sat down next to you, his smile fading as he looked at you more closely. “But... somethin’ ain’t right, is it?”

You exhaled slowly, leaning back against the bench. “I’m just… tired, Epel. I don’t know how to keep going.”

Epel frowned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Tired? What do ya mean? You’re always so… strong.”

You chuckled bitterly, shaking your head. “I don’t feel strong. I feel like I’m falling apart.”

Epel’s frown deepened, and he scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable but trying his best to understand. “I get it, kinda. You’ve been workin’ hard, probably too hard.” He paused, glancing at you with concern. “You don’t have to be tough all the time, ya know. It’s okay to ask for help.”

You smiled sadly at him. “I don’t even know how to do that.”

Epel shifted closer, his usual rough-and-tumble demeanor softening. “Well, ya don’t have to do it alone. We’re friends, right? So, if ya need me, I’m here. Even if it’s just to sit with ya.”

For the first time in a while, you felt a flicker of warmth. Epel wasn’t the most eloquent, but his words carried a sincerity that hit you in all

Idia Shroud:

You hadn’t meant to snap at Idia. Honestly, you didn’t. But everything had been building for so long, like a pressure cooker about to blow, and when he made the comment—one that should have been harmless—it all came crashing down.

“Uh… you’re kinda different lately,” Idia had muttered, his eyes glued to his tablet as usual. His tone wasn’t accusatory, more like an observation, but the words felt like a match thrown onto the pile of kindling that had been building inside you.

Different? Was that what he thought? As if you had just woken up one day and decided to be different. As if all the stress, all the constant work and the endless expectations hadn’t eaten away at you until there was nothing left.

Your chest tightened, and before you could stop yourself, you snapped.

“Of course, I’m different! Do you think I want to be like this? That I’m enjoying any of this?” The words tumbled out, sharp and cutting, and you could see Idia flinch slightly, his usual wide-eyed, panicked expression flickering across his face.

He shrunk further into his hoodie, his hair dimming a little at your outburst. “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“You just what?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with the weight of frustration and exhaustion. “You think it’s fun being constantly overwhelmed? Do you think I like the fact that I don’t even recognize myself anymore?”

Idia blinked, his hair now a dull, nervous blue as he fumbled with the edges of his sleeves. “N-No, I—sorry. I didn’t realize—”

The sight of him looking so rattled, so unsure, finally made you pause. Your anger began to fade, replaced by a wave of guilt. He wasn’t trying to upset you—he was just being his usual, awkward self. You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair as you sank onto a nearby chair.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, staring at the ground. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just… tired.”

Idia glanced up at you, his hair flickering back to a soft blue. “No, I get it. I mean… I don’t get it get it, but… I can see you’ve been stressed. I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

You looked up at him, the frustration and exhaustion still simmering under the surface but no longer directed at him. “I just… I feel like I’m falling apart, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Idia shifted uncomfortably, clearly out of his depth when it came to emotional stuff. But he nodded, his fingers tapping nervously on his tablet. “That… sounds like a total nightmare, honestly. If you wanna talk or, like, not talk… I can just sit here. No pressure.”

You smiled weakly at him, grateful for the gesture even though you knew talking wouldn’t fix everything. Still, the offer meant something, especially coming from someone like Idia, who was as socially awkward as they came. “Thanks, Idia.”

He nodded quickly, his hair flickering brighter. “Yeah, no prob.”

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho was a bright little ball of sunshine, a constant source of cheerfulness that sometimes felt like too much when you were in the state you were now. But he was also hard to ignore, especially when he zoomed over to greet you, his cheerful voice ringing out the second he spotted you.

"Hi! How are you doing today? Is there anything I can help you with?” Ortho’s voice was filled with such eager energy that it almost made you wince.

Normally, his enthusiasm would have been endearing, but today, it was just too much. You forced a tired smile. “I’m fine, Ortho. Just… tired.”

His sensors seemed to pick up on your low energy, and he tilted his head, his mechanical eyes glowing softly. “You don’t seem fine. Maybe you need some rest! Or maybe I could get you something to eat, or—”

“Ortho,” you interrupted, rubbing your temple as a wave of exhaustion hit you. “I just… I just want to be left alone for a little while, okay?”

There was a pause as Ortho processed your request. His cheerful smile faltered for a moment, and his eyes dimmed slightly, but then he nodded, his voice softening. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

You almost regretted snapping at him, but to his credit, Ortho didn’t push. Instead, he hovered nearby, his presence quiet but still there, like a little brother who didn’t want to leave your side even when you asked for space. He wasn’t overbearing—just a silent, watchful figure in the background, making sure you were okay.

After a few minutes, you glanced at him. He was still there, his eyes watching you with concern, but he hadn’t said a word since you asked to be alone.

A small, tired smile tugged at your lips. “You can stay, you know. Just… maybe tone it down a little.”

Ortho’s eyes brightened, and he floated a little closer, his voice quiet and soft now. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Despite your exhaustion, you found comfort in Ortho’s presence. He wasn’t pushy or demanding—just there, offering quiet support. And for now, that was enough.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus had a way of appearing at the most unexpected times. One moment you were alone, wallowing in your overwhelming responsibilities, and the next, he was there, his presence like a calm, steady force that momentarily took the weight off your shoulders.

"You have a heavy burden," he said softly, his glowing eyes watching you with concern.

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. "I don't have a choice, Malleus. I have to do it all. There's no one else."

He was silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful, before he spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "You always have a choice."

His words struck you, and you looked up at him, tired and skeptical. "What choice do I have, really? If I don’t do it, who will?"

Malleus stepped closer, his large hand reaching out to gently take yours. The warmth of his touch was comforting, grounding. "I will help you," he said, his voice steady, full of promise. "You do not have to carry this burden alone. I would be honored if you would share it with me."

The sincerity in his words broke something inside of you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that, how much you needed someone to acknowledge your struggle and offer their support. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to blink them away, but it was no use.

Malleus gently pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe for the first time in what felt like forever. "I am here," he whispered. "Always."

You buried your face in his chest, letting the tears fall as you clung to him. For the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel so alone.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia always seemed to know when something was wrong, even when you tried to hide it. He found you sitting alone, your shoulders slumped, your mind racing with thoughts of everything you still had to do. The old fae’s eyes softened as he approached, crouching down to your level.

“Ah, my little rabbit, it’s important not to lose yourself in all of this,” he said gently, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness. “You’ve been running yourself ragged.”

You sighed, feeling too tired to argue. “What choice do I have? It never stops.”

Lilia gave you a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling despite the concern behind them. “Even so, it’s vital to take care of yourself. If you get lost, who will be there to find you?”

You stared at him, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. You hadn’t realized how much you had lost yourself until now, how much you had forgotten who you were amidst the endless demands and expectations.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know how to find myself again.”

Lilia reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You won’t have to do it alone. I’ll be there, whenever you need me. You’ve got someone who will always come looking for you, no matter how far you wander.”

The tears spilled over then, and Lilia gently pulled you into a hug, his arms surprisingly strong for his small frame. “Cry if you need to, little rabbit. It’s alright to be tired.”

You sobbed quietly into his shoulder, grateful for the comfort, for the promise that you weren’t completely lost.

Silver:

Silver was different from the others. He didn’t always have the right words, but his presence was comforting in its own way. You found him waiting for you one evening, his eyes calm and steady as always, and yet… there was a softness there that told you he understood more than he let on.

"You should rest," Silver said simply, his tone gentle but firm. "You’ve been pushing yourself too hard."

You wanted to argue, to tell him that you couldn’t afford to rest, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, feeling a tear slip down your cheek.

Silver watched you for a moment, and then, in his quiet way, he stepped closer. "I can stand guard for you," he offered softly. "While you rest. No one will bother you."

Something about the offer made your heart ache, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Silver, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupted, his voice gentle but resolute. “It’s okay to let someone else take over, even if it’s just for a little while.”

His words, so simple and sincere, broke the dam, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Silver, ever so calm, wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug that was both protective and comforting.

“I’ll be here,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

For the first time in days, you allowed yourself to lean on someone, feeling the exhaustion finally take over as you cried quietly into his chest.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek was the last person you’d expect to understand. When he first saw you, looking worn out and drained, his immediate reaction was his usual loud, indignant self.

"Human! How could you let yourself become so... unkempt?!" Sebek had barked, his voice echoing in the corridor. "You have responsibilities! Standards to uphold!"

You barely reacted, your energy too drained to even muster a response. You just stood there, staring at him with tired, glassy eyes. Normally, you might have snapped back at him, might have told him off for being so overbearing. But today… you didn’t even have that in you.

Sebek stopped, his expression shifting as he took in your hollow look. For the first time, he seemed to realize that something was deeply wrong. His usual bluster faded, and his voice softened, though it still held that familiar Sebek intensity. “Are… are you alright?”

It was such a simple question, and yet it broke something inside of you. You shook your head, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “No. I’m not.”

Sebek’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked completely at a loss. But then, to your surprise, he stepped closer, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “You… you should not bear this burden alone.”

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I don’t have a choice.”

Sebek hesitated, then awkwardly placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so loud. “You do. And you must let someone help you.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. Sebek, the loud and proud half-fae, was comforting you. And despite how awkward he was about it, you found it strangely reassuring.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

Sebek’s grip tightened slightly, and he nodded, his eyes full of determination. “I will not let you falter.”

You smiled weakly through your tears, and before you knew it, Sebek had pulled you into a clumsy, but genuine hug. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. You held onto him, letting the tears flow, feeling a little less alone in the world.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to carry everything by yourself.

Rollo Flamme:

Rollo’s sharp eyes caught you as you wandered through the dimly lit halls, your steps slow and heavy. His brow furrowed slightly, the ever-present judgmental edge in his voice as he approached.

“You’re not really alive anymore, are you?”

It was such a blunt statement, cutting straight through the haze of your exhaustion. For a moment, you stood there, frozen, unsure if you had even heard him correctly. Then, something inside you cracked. All at once, the weight of everything you had been carrying overwhelmed you, and you felt your knees buckle.

“I’m trying,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m trying so hard, but… it’s never enough. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

You expected him to scoff, to make some cold remark about duty and responsibility. But instead, Rollo’s usually sharp expression softened. He hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure of how to proceed, but then—so awkwardly it almost startled you—he reached out and gently took your hand in his.

“I… didn’t mean to cause more distress,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You have been shouldering too much.”

The simple contact, the warmth of his hand in yours, sent a flood of emotion through you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you squeezed his hand, your lip trembling. “I don’t know what to do anymore…”

Rollo’s grip tightened, a silent promise that he wouldn’t let you fall any further. “Then perhaps it’s time to stop trying to carry it all alone.”

Neige LeBlanche:

You hadn’t expected to run into Neige when you did—his usual bright demeanor an overwhelming contrast to the exhaustion you felt pressing down on your every move. When he saw you, his eyes widened with immediate concern.

“Oh no… have you been running yourself ragged?” Neige asked, his voice soft and full of sympathy.

You tried to smile, tried to brush it off like you always did. “It’s fine, really. I’m just… tired.”

But the moment you said it, you felt the tears rising again. The weight of everything you’d been trying to handle was too much, and now, in front of someone as kind and gentle as Neige, it was impossible to keep the façade up any longer.

Neige, sensing the shift in your mood, stepped closer, his expression full of worry. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.” He gently took your arm, guiding you to sit on a nearby bench. “Come on, let’s rest for a bit.”

As soon as you sat down, the dam broke, and you buried your face in your hands, sobbing quietly. Neige didn’t say anything for a moment, but his presence was soothing, like a warm blanket on a cold day. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug.

“You’ve done so much already,” he whispered, his voice gentle. “You deserve to rest.”

The tears came faster, but this time, they felt like a release. Neige held you, stroking your hair softly as you cried into his shoulder. He didn’t try to fix everything or offer any grand solutions. He just stayed there, offering quiet comfort, and in that moment, it was exactly what you needed.

Che’nya

Che’nya’s grin was as wide as ever when he appeared beside you, hanging upside down from a tree branch like it was the most natural thing in the world. But there was something in his eyes as he looked at you, something that said he knew something was different.

“Well, well, well,” he teased, his voice lilting with amusement. “Looks like you’ve finally become like the rest of them—cynical and all that.”

His words were meant to be lighthearted, a joke, but they hit too close to home. You felt your breath hitch, the ache in your chest tightening. The teasing that once might have been playful now only highlighted the exhaustion, the bitterness you had tried to hide for so long.

“I… I didn’t want to become like this,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to be so… tired.”

Che’nya blinked, his grin fading slightly as he flipped down from the branch to stand beside you. “Hey now… I didn’t mean to make you upset, little rabbit.”

But it was too late. The tears were already spilling down your cheeks, your body shaking with the weight of everything you had been holding in. You covered your face with your hands, embarrassed by how easily you had broken down.

Without a word, Che’nya crouched beside you, his playful demeanor slipping away as he gently touched your arm. “It’s alright, you know? You don’t have to hide it.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m just… I’m so tired of trying to keep up with everything.”

Che’nya gave a soft chuckle, but there was no teasing in it now. “That’s because you’re not supposed to do it all by yourself.”

Before you could say anything, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both comforting and protective. “You’re not alone, little rabbit. Not with me around.”

Grim:

Grim had been his usual self at first, bounding around and bragging about his latest escapades. But then he noticed how quiet you had been lately, how you didn’t respond to his antics with your usual snark. He had brushed it off at first, but the more he thought about it, the more it gnawed at him.

Finally, Grim came up to you, his tail flicking nervously as he tried to gauge your mood. “Hey… henchhuman. You’ve been actin’ real weird lately.”

You glanced at him, too tired to even muster a proper response. “I’m just tired, Grim.”

“Tired?” Grim huffed, crossing his little arms. “You’re always tired! But this is different, ain’t it?”

You didn’t say anything, and that’s when Grim’s expression shifted. He stepped closer, his eyes wide and full of concern. “Henchhuman… did I do somethin’? Did I make things worse?”

The sound of his worried voice, of Grim actually not being selfish for once, broke you. You had been holding it in for so long, trying to be strong, but now, with Grim looking at you with those big, worried eyes, you couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears came, fast and unstoppable, and you buried your face in your hands.

Grim panicked for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then he scrambled onto your lap, pressing his little head against your chest. “Hey, hey! Don’t cry! I didn’t mean to make ya upset!”

You sobbed harder, your hands shaking as you tried to get a hold of yourself. “I’m sorry, Grim. I’ve just… I’ve been so overwhelmed, and I didn’t want to bother you…”

“Bother me?” Grim scoffed, but there was no bite to his words. “You’re my henchhuman! If somethin’s wrong, you tell me, got it?”

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face as you hugged Grim tightly. He grumbled a little, but then he nuzzled against you, his small form warm and comforting in your arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner,” he muttered. “But you’re gonna be okay. ‘Cause you’ve got me.”

Despite everything, you smiled through your tears. Grim wasn’t perfect, but in his own way, he was trying to help. And for now, that was enough.

Crowley:

"Ah, my ever-reliable little rabbit!" Crowley called from across the hallway, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him. He approached with his usual flourish, clearly in one of his grandiose moods. "I couldn't help but notice that your posture is rather… less upright than usual. No doubt due to your recent lack of respect and enthusiasm! You simply must—"

You barely looked up. Everything was gray. Crowley’s usual barrage of demands and flowery speeches washed over you like distant noise, and for the first time, you didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t care.”

The words came out before you could stop them, low and exhausted. You didn’t even bother to meet his eyes.

Crowley paused, blinking in confusion. “Pardon? Did you just—?” His voice faltered as he saw the deep bags under your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped, and how utterly defeated you looked. The bravado drained from his expression as he realized just how far he had pushed you.

“Oh… oh dear,” he stammered, clearly flustered. “I… I hadn’t realized you were feeling this way.” His hands flapped awkwardly, and he shifted on his feet, the image of a man utterly lost in uncharted waters. “Perhaps I’ve… overworked you. Just a smidge! But worry not! Crowley is here to—erm—assist! Yes, assist!”

You stared blankly at him. “I don’t need assistance. I need you to stop.”

Crowley’s face fell, and after a moment of visible panic, he hesitantly reached out, patting your shoulder in what he clearly thought was a comforting gesture. “There, there… You’re very… valuable to us all. Truly. Perhaps… a bit of a break? I will—uh—take care of things while you rest. Just… please don’t break down.”

Though his attempt at comfort was clumsy and awkward, the thought behind it made your eyes well up with tears. Despite everything, he was trying.

“Okay,” you whispered, and Crowley gave an exaggerated nod, as if this small victory had restored his usual bravado.

“Very well! I’ll expect to see you back when you’re ready, my precious little rabbit. Take your time!”

Divus Crewel:

Professor Crewel’s sharp gaze pinned you the moment you entered his classroom. He noted the new tension in your shoulders, the lack of bounce in your step, and the weary drag in your eyes.

“Well, well, looks like you’ve finally grown some grit,” Crewel said, his lips curling into a smirk. “It’s about time you toughened up. I was beginning to think I had a little herbivore in my class, but I see now you’ve developed a thicker hide.”

Those words—meant to be encouragement, or perhaps a compliment—broke the last bit of strength you had left. The tears you had been holding back spilled over, and your breath hitched as you tried, and failed, to keep your emotions in check.

Crewel’s eyes widened in alarm, his smirk vanishing in an instant. “Whoa, whoa, now—what’s this?” His tone softened, and he quickly put down the lesson plan he’d been holding. He crossed the room, placing a surprisingly gentle hand on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t trying to push you that far.”

You shook your head, choking back sobs. “I just… I can’t anymore. I can’t keep up with everything.”

For a moment, Crewel stood there, clearly at a loss. But then his paternal instincts kicked in, and he sighed, pulling you into a firm but comforting hug. “You’ve been doing too much, haven’t you, pup? Trying to shoulder all of it on your own.”

You nodded, tears soaking into his coat, but he didn’t seem to mind. He gently stroked your back in soothing motions. “You’ve proven yourself time and again,” he murmured. “But you don’t have to break yourself to do it. Let me handle some of the load.”

His words, so uncharacteristically gentle, made you cry harder. And Crewel, despite his tough exterior, let you. “It’s okay, pup. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Mozus Trein:

Professor Trein glanced over his spectacles at you as you entered his classroom, late, looking disheveled and utterly drained. He gave a soft ‘tsk,’ his usual sternness evident. “I hope this recent behavior won’t affect your studies,” he remarked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

You didn’t even have the energy to reply, simply nodding and sitting down heavily at your desk. Trein continued to watch you for a moment, then his brow furrowed as he took in the full extent of your exhaustion—the dark circles under your eyes, the slumped posture, the way you barely moved.

He put down the parchment he’d been grading and approached you, his voice quieter, more concerned. “You’re not yourself.”

You felt tears prick your eyes, but you stubbornly kept them at bay. “I’m… trying.”

Trein sighed, and for the first time, his stern exterior softened. “You’ve always been diligent. But there comes a time when even the most diligent students need rest.”

Before you could respond, you felt a soft weight land in your lap. Lucius, Trein’s ever-grumpy cat, had jumped up onto your desk, curling up as if offering you silent comfort.

Trein gave a rare, faint smile. “Even Lucius seems to think you’ve had enough. Take some time for yourself, and… don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

It was the first time you felt truly seen in a while. And though Trein wasn’t the warmest, his quiet concern—and Lucius’s uncharacteristic kindness—were enough to make you finally exhale the breath you’d been holding.

Sam:

Sam’s wide grin greeted you as you wandered into his shop, his usual cheerful energy practically bouncing off the walls. “Well hey there, little rabbit! What brings you to my corner of the world today?”

You mustered a half-hearted smile, trying to match his energy, but it fell flat. “Just… looking.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, sharp as ever. “Just lookin’, huh? C’mon now, I know you better than that! Somethin’s got you down, I can see it from a mile away.”

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into it, but before you could think of a reply, Sam leaned in closer, his tone still playful but a bit more serious. “You look like you’ve been runnin’ on empty, little rabbit. What’s goin’ on?”

For some reason, the concern in his voice broke through the walls you’d been trying to keep up. The tears welled up without warning, and you bit your lip, shaking your head as if you could will them away.

Sam’s grin faltered, and his usual jokes fell silent. He quickly stepped around the counter, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Hey, hey… none of that now. You’re too important to be runnin’ yourself into the ground like this.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “I just… I don’t know how to keep going, Sam.”

Without a word, Sam pulled you into a hug, his big arms wrapping around you protectively. “You’ve been strong for a long time, little rabbit. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with leanin’ on someone else every once in a while.”

Ashton Vargas:

“Hey! What’s up, champ?” Vargas greeted you with his usual booming enthusiasm as you dragged yourself into the gym. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest, and he was clearly expecting you to give some sort of equally enthusiastic reply.

Instead, you just shrugged, your energy completely sapped. “Nothing much.”

Vargas frowned, his usually boisterous demeanor faltering slightly as he noticed how worn out you looked. “Hey, you alright? You’re lookin’ a little worse for wear.”

You tried to laugh it off, but it came out weak. “Just tired.”

“Tired?” Vargas echoed, his concern growing. “You’re a fighter! You don’t get tired, right?” He tried to give you an encouraging slap on the back, but when you didn’t respond, his smile dropped completely. “Okay, something’s really wrong.”

You sighed, the exhaustion creeping into every part of you. “I can’t keep up anymore, I’m just… done.”

For a moment, Vargas looked completely out of his depth. He wasn’t exactly the go-to guy for emotional support. But he wasn’t going to let you suffer alone either. He awkwardly reached out, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Look, uh… I’m not the best with words, but… you don’t have to be strong all the time, okay? Everyone needs a break. Even you.”

His sincerity, even through the awkwardness, made your heart clench. And before you knew it, you were leaning into his surprisingly gentle hold as tears finally escaped.

“Alright, alright,” Vargas muttered, patting your back like a dad who didn’t really know what he was doing but was trying his best. “We’ll get you through this, alright? Just… breathe.”

Masterlist

[tiredandoptimistic]

As someone who likes a lot of "bad" media, or media that starts out kinda slow but builds into a bigger plot over time, I see so many different opinions on what bits are "okay" to skip in order to get to the good part, and it's just wild to me. Bouncing around between the highlights doesn't actually give you the experience, and filler is so important when it comes to just...creating a vibe and building up the relationships between characters and with the audience.

For instance, Red vs Blue is probably my favorite show (ever, of all time), and while I will admit that the first five seasons are not my favorite, I still think they're essential to the show, because those five years of relatively low stakes adventures set the tone so that it can be upset by the bigger plot points. The impact of a big twist is reduced if you haven't spent the time to get invested in these characters when they're just hanging out and being silly. Most importantly though, even once the plot really gets going in season six and we get into the more serious Freelancer and Chorus arcs, Red vs Blue is still fundamentally about a bunch of idiots standing around and talking. If you have to force yourself to put up with the majority of the show, then you might just not like this show.

I was talking about this with my friend, and they said it's kinda the same thing with Homestuck. Yes, it does get "better" as time goes on, but it's still the same thing it's always been, and if that's not something you enjoy then skipping to the bits you do like won't change what it is.

Or like, I freaking love The Order of the Stick, and last year I reread it from the beginning for the first time in a while, and I half convinced myself that I'd just made up how good it is (because volume one is funny enough but nothing to write home about). However, I hit a certain point where I realized that I wasn't just reading out of a sense of obligation but because I adore these characters and am unspeakably invested in this plot. You can really tell that it's been a story happening over the course of 20+ years, you can see the writing and art improve dramatically as time goes on. I could just recommend that someone start with volume two or three, and summarize the plot up till then so they don't feel lost. However! That would rob them of the experience you get from watching these characters grow. You can't fully appreciate Belkar's arc in volume six if you didn't see what he was like on day one, y'know?

On another note, I love the Shadowhunters Chronicles, and I know that a lot of people will give The Mortal Instruments shit and call it the worst series or whatever, but those people just hate fun. Yeah, there are other series that might have stronger plots and better writing, but there's a reason that TMI's main characters have been iconic for years. Sometimes, things are just silly, and if you don't like that then you're not gonna have a good time here.

I could go on! I also like a lot of episodic shows like MASH, Community, Tangled: the Series, the whole DC animated universe, Supernatural, etc. I could come up with lists of my favorite episodes to try to hook somebody, but all of those episodes lose a lot of their impact when taken out of context. Skipping the filler doesn't give you the ultimate experience of Only The Best, it takes away your chance to fully spend time with these characters in a variety of settings. And sure, lots of shows with multiple writers do have some episodes that are just bad, but that's not what I'm talking about. There's a difference between something being bad and something being low-stakes. Maybe you personally don't enjoy things that are low-stakes, but that might just mean you shouldn't be watching a sitcom.

So yeah, this has been an excuse for me to rant about things I enjoy for a while but I'm sorta out of time and need to eat lunch, so I suppose this post has reached its conclusion. All my favorite media are my favorite for reasons I couldn't articulate in an elevator pitch, and putting together a highlight reel will never substitute for truly being in the trenches. If you're truly having a good time with something then you won't need to skip to the good part, because the whole thing is enjoyable.

[zukkacore]

Imo the new PJO shows greatest strength is definitely Riordon’s craft maturing since the lightning thief in terms of…. Thematic coherence?

I think PJO has always been fairly thematically coherent & impactful in its messaging but especially at first the books feels much more like fairly lighthearted action adventure road trip narratives that are extremely episodic and more focused on being entertaining than having something To Say. Which, they’re books for middle schoolers, I think an “adventure road trip with some unserious monster slaying” is a perfectly serviceable concept and in execution riordan is admirably gifted in that his writing can be entertaining for both the primary demographic kids but also adults.

But they’re not books that just suddenly decided to half-heartedly have a theme (unlike other kids fantasy from the period I don’t dare namedrop lmao), because of all the foreshadowing and the motivations behind the antagonists (one antagonist in particular), it’s clear he probably had a thematic direction for the series, even if I don’t know how planned the initial 5 book run was. I really do admire what the book has to say abt bad systems that are set up to leave certain folks behind, and what parents owe to their children, & abt how easy it is to fall for charismatic leaders promising for a return to glorious prelapsarian past instead of trying to provide real solutions.

In the series, what I’ve really been enjoying is how every interaction and monster doesn’t just feel episodic, each monster feels like a facet that is part of the central thesis regarding the gods & their relationship to their children. I think the writing strength does a lot of heavy lifting because while overall I think the show is pretty solid, I do have a few critiques.

Mainly one of the frustrating things probably has something to do with budgeting. Scenes that are very thrilling and action driven in the book are truncated & often replaced with a lot of kinda slow oddly paced walk-&-talk scenes. Probably bc that’s much cheaper to shoot. Riordan himself seems to be fairly transparent about the changes he’s made in adaptation due to those limitations.

The effects for tv show cgi are not perfect but pretty impressive (I’ll reiterate, for tv cgi, the bar is on the floor….) but there’s a weird emptiness or sterile quality that makes the world feel not so lived in. Idk I think this was the most apparent to me in the casino episode, which I know riordan hates the movie & we joke abt the poker face scene but I was honestly kinda bewildered at how lifeless and boring they made the intentionally enticing distraction of the lotus casino seem. I get there can’t be gambling, but maybe an arcade? A buffet? Something?

I sound like I’m really going in on the show but I’m really not, I’ve been really enjoying the adaptation so far. The flaws are not show-ruining but I do think they culminate in a result that struggles w pacing & lacks the propulsive energetic quality of the books. Which, adaptations can be different, but to me that quality was always a strength of the series that imo I would’ve prioritized in adaptation. What saves some of the problems for me is that even tho a lot content is kinda delivered in this weird inert way of the actors doing their best to bring life to scenes where people are standing around stiffly and exchanging dialogue, the content itself is really good. His knowledge of his own characters & their dynamics, their desires, their place in the narrative, is so clear. The emphasis placed on Sally Jackson in particular & her influence on Percy & his values is a great additive element to the show. Again, the thematic coherence that has evolved since the lightning thief is in full display. For example, before last nights episode, I was actually saying to my mom that I hoped they would cut the procrustes water bed scene bc that chapter always felt weirdly fillery and goofy in its tone, but it was integrated in such an organic way that I really liked it!

I’ve been saying for like a decade that I thought PJO’s monster of the week episodic structure would make a better show than movie, and like. All im saying is that being apollo cursed with the gift of prophecy isn’t always a bad thing

[makerkenzie]

So I read your posts about the Martells and how their plans to team up with the targs are.....faulty to say the least lol and I completely agree. Your posts hit on a lot of the same issues I have had with the Martells and GRRM's handling of this plot point. We are told that the Martells in general are haughty and slow to forgive. We are introduced to Oberyn, he loved Elia more than anything, and like any overprotective brother didn't believe any of her suitors was good enough for his sister. Yet, GRRM does not allow Oberyn, and then later, Doran, to make any comments about Rhaegar's treatment of Elia. Yes, Tywin gave the order and Loch and Clegane executed those orders, but none of that would have happened had it not been for Rhaegar setting the ball in motion. This makes absolutely NO sense and gives the fandom cover to say garbage like, 'well, even the Martells don't blame Rhaegar so Rhaegar was a good guy...' Oberyn? The same man who didn't think anyone was good enough for his sister wouldn't have been enraged at her husband seemingly leaving her for another woman after she just almost died giving him a son? Seriously???

This is just....very bad writing and dropping the ball on Martin's end. On top of that, he has the Martells betroth Arianne to Viserys. Why the FUCK would any family do that after seeing how one targ man already treated their beloved sister in a previous marriage match???? It's baffling.....absolutely insane. But I can't bring myself to blame the Martells, because this is yet another area of illogical carelessness by GRRM when it comes to his handling of Rhaegar and Elia.

Parts of this fandom refuse to acknowledge that Rhaegar is significantly at fault for the rebellion and what happened to Elia and his children and it borders on gaslighting imo. The amount of times I've seen people say 'well, Rhaegar didn't start the way, it was Brandon making a mess in KL and then it was Aerys' fault for demanding Robert and Ned's heads.' Okay......but literally none of that would have occurred had Rhaegar and Lyanna not ran away. Had they not done what they did, Brandon would have had no reason to got to KL to confront the prince.

Anyway, a lot of this hits on GRRM's, imo shockingly tone deaf, handling of Rhaegar, Elia, and Lyanna. I have no doubt that back in 1996 he envisioned R and L to be some Romeo and Juliet love story with two sympathetic people that meant well, but ran into a string of bad luck 'love is the death of duty' etc. etc. Except, it's easy to romanticize Romeo and Juliet who were two capricious teens in the blush of first love. Importantly, neither of them had a spouse and two young children they abandoned to go screw their lovers in said spouse's homeland. And then had their spouse and children brutally murdered as a result of the war they started 'for loveeee' lmao. The fandom harps on the age gap between R and L and honestly that doesn't even scratch the surface as to top five worst things about this relationship. I'm not even bother getting into L's hilariously hypocritical views on fidelity and having bastards lmao. I think GRRM inadvertently had the inciting relationship of his series be, not only predatory because of the age gap, but be based on the degradation and humiliation of an innocent wife and mother, and just....like......didn't realize it??? lmao. It's very weird, very very weird. I mean, on the other hand, I do think he....kinda...gets it because if he wanted a uncomplicated romance he simply would not have had Rhaegar be married with two kids.

All that being said, I think Martin is committed to making R a tragic hero and this a tragic love story, that he refuses to allow the people who should realistically hate Rhaegar and the targs the most, the Martells, excoriate him in the text. I had a conversation with another ASOIAF fan about this and she said that one of the good things the show did was allow Oberyn to call out Rhaegar for abandoning his sister, which he doesn't do in the text. I think there's a lot of cognitive dissonance with GRRM not realizing just how bad Rhaegar, and Lyanna imo, come across to readers in the text and, tinfoil time, I think not having to explain this relationship to readers is one of the many reasons he won't finish the series. I think he now realizes just how bad it is and how much 'fixing' of that ship he's going to have to do for both of them not to be absolutely hated by the fandom.

Obviously Martin is keeping very mum on the rebellion because he doesn't want to reveal too much and obfuscates a lot so we really don't have a lot of concrete opinions on Rhaegar from non-targ sycophants.....which is good writing technique.....usually.....but when you're taking 30 plus years to finish a series and are going on year 13 of having the fandom wait on the book that should in theory answer a lot of these questions....it's not great lol.

I don't see a question here, but I'm not above poking the viper's nest when I'm bored, so: okay, I'll bite!

If GRRM is trying to write Rhaegar as a tragic hero and R/L as some epically tragic love story, then, yes, he's doing a piss-poor job of it.

I don't think that's what he's doing.

I think he's intentionally writing a deeply frustrating story around the Martells. Whatever his initial idea of the Targs was in 1996...the story he's writing now is that dragons plant no trees.

He doesn't let the Martells acknowledge the Targs' mistreatment of their family because this is not a story in which they'll be vindicated or victorious. This is a story in which they are screwing themselves over. Which isn't exactly fun to read, but the pieces add up that way. The Targs are not the heroes the Martells need for their fairytale, any more than the Lannisters are the villains they need for that tale.

Especially Rhaegar. Seven Hells, are people actually saying "clearly Rhaegar was a good guy because the Martells don't blame him"? That is really...special. Nah, the Martells' refusal to hold the Targs, and especially Rhaegar, responsible for the injury done to their family is not an argument in favor of the Targs. It's 60% or more of the way the Martells are driving themselves off a cliff.

I don't have any firm opinions on why GRRM is taking so long to finish the Winds of Waiting. It's likely the result of many contributing factors, as the series involves many, many moving parts. But I doubt very much that he intends to write the Targs as the good guys Dany seems to think they are. They're a mix of hero and villain, like many other players in the game. Meanwhile the Martells' investment in the dragon is doubly tragic because where the Targs are actually heroic, they still don't reciprocate the Martells' loyalty. They hardly even see it.

[k7l4d4]

K Reviews and Rants: Miraculous Ladybug Season 5! Episode 6

Alrighty, time for Episode 6! I got this posted kinda late, work's been kicking my butt pretty hard, but I shall persevere!

Looking back on this episode, I think this one was what convinced me that the writers see love and relationships as binary. The idea that a person can have feelings, romantic ones, for more than one person (hooray for Polyamory denial! /sarcasm) is completely disregarded in favor of the validity of Marinette's feelings being attacked, and the concept of a crush, sorry "of being in love," is framed as something that can be traded around or exchanged. It's profoundly disturbing to me, because it's such a narrow view of what love is, and one that is just plain unhealthy in the long run. Nuance and complications that don't fit on a neat "Yes/No" framework are ignored, and it sets the tone for the series going forward. Oh, and it's one of the episodes that shows that the writers are invested in pretending that Marinette is more subtle about her feelings then she actually is to keep up Adrien not realizing how she feels. It's sad.

As always, warnings for any profanity on my part.

Episode 6: Determination 

Okay FINALLY started Determination. Already I think I hate this, but it's more of a low, simmering annoyance right now. 

Okay, we get a scene of Adrien staring at a sketch of Marinette... these writers really have no fucking clue how to do subtlety at all, do they? 

Adrien, stop waxing poetic about Marinette, it looks creepy as fuck. Kagami, why the FUCK are you encouraging him to call and date Marinette!? I get it, he "looks at her the way you wished he looked at you," but you should know damn well his failings as a boyfriend!! Why are you encouraging someone who broke your heart to date your friend!? You have no way of knowing if he'd be any better for her than he was for you!! I just do not get this, and I don't like it, honestly. 

And we get a scene of Kitty Section apparently having signed a deal (or are ABOUT to sign a deal) with Bob Roth... you know, the same guy who FUCKING PLAGIARIZED THEM ONCE ALREADY!? And he wasn't even fucking sorry about it!! Why the HELL are they trusting this scumbag a second time!? 

Oh, and Marinette acting like a colossal spaz over Adrien calling her. WHHHHYYYYY!? We get it, she is clumsy and BLATANTLY obvious about her "love" for him, do we really need EVERY FUCKING SCENE where he comes up around her to involve her publicly embarrassing herself in some way!? Because wildly flailing in a cartoon tends not to work so well with 3D models. 

And WHY in the world is Marinette being in front of her friends making her go back on trying to not meet Adrien!? Seriously, they have FINALLY had Marinette acknowledge that her crush on him has been negatively effecting her (even if it IS framed as a 2D strawman reasoning), and THEY ARE HER FRIENDS!!! They would UNDERSTAND if she explained her reasoning!! (or at least they fucking SHOULD, not that Alya does, because FUCK YOU according to Astruc!!) 

What the fuck is the... I'm not even sure how to fucking spell that, some kind of museum...? That's where Adrien wants to take Marinette on their "not date" to "talk things over." ...They seriously haven't given this kid a single romantic bone in his fucking body, have they? But on the other hand, he seems to be honestly wanting to take things slow and feel things out, which I would say is the right choice because TRYING TO FORCE A RELATIONSHIP IS HOW THEY TEND TO END!!! Seriously, WHY the fuck is Kagami trying to push him on this!? Let him set his own fucking pace and figure things out ON HIS OWN!! Trying to MAKE him act on these feelings isn't going to foster any sense of independence in him because it's taking away most of his fucking agency in all this!! ...Wow, the writing here is so bad it's actually getting me to defend the Love Square. That's disturbing. 

...I just gotta say it, while her friends thinking her finally going on a date with her longtime crush is celebration worthy is a sweet gesture... the fact that they somehow miss how OBVIOUSLY UNCOMFORTABLE she is makes me want to bang my head against a wall. Then again, this is the same setting where, despite Adrien being visibly miserable, only Marinette notices "because she loves him." Dear GOD is this stupid!! 

...I don't know where to begin with this. On the one hand, I think Adrien is still technically making the correct decision in trying to figure himself the fuck out (and STILL hasn't gotten over Ladybug yet, probably)... but Kagami is also correct that Adrien is meeting Marinette somewhere that sounds pretty fucking boring. My sense of foreboding is building, though... 

...Okay, so he wants to go to the museum because "that's where his feelings changed." Shut up. No, no SHUT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK UP WITH THIS SHIT!! You do NOT have someone "get feelings" from what amounts to a CREEPY AS FUCKING HELL moment of a girl feeling up and wanting to kiss what she THINKS is a statue but is actually another person PRETENDING to be a statue as a joke!! It's tasteless, disturbing, and FLATOUT INSULTING to the terrible execution this nightmare of a relationship has been building up towards!! Nope, no way, GET THIS FUCKING STUPIDITY OUT OF HERE. NOW!!! 

Seriously, out of ALL THE FUCKING TIMES Thomas could've had him "realize his feelings," IT WAS THAT FUCKING BIT OF STUPIDITY!? Nope, not dealing with this, GET RID OF IT!!! 

And do you want to know what makes this even more nonsensical!? That moment where his "feelings changed" was him learning how much of an utterly obsessive CREEP Marinette was regarding him!! That is the singularly LEAST appropriate possible moment for him to have gained feelings for someone else, particularly someone who (however unknowingly) MASSIVELY FUCKING VIOLATED HIS BOUNDARIES!!! Dear god, I want this nightmare over with... 

...Marinette. CUT IT THE FUCK OUT WITH THIS "I CANNOT BE IN LOVE WITH ADRIEN" DREK!! THAT IS NOT HOW EMOTIONS WORK!! FOR FUCKS SAKE THIS IS JUST ONE LONG STRAWMAN TOWARDS HOW THEY ARE "MEANT TO BE TOGETHER" AND I FUCKING HATE EVERY FUCKING SECOND OF IT!!!!! 

For the absolute sake of FUCK, Marinette you have been obsessively crushing on this guy FOR MONTHS NOW!!! Just telling yourself "I can't be in love with him" DOES ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOTHING!!! It's a nonsensical platitude that you are using to avoid ACTUALLY TRYING TO MOVE THE FUCK ON FROM HIS ASS! 

There is no "can't" regarding being in love or having a crush, either it stays or it leaves, and you can't FORCE it to go away. That isn't how ANY healthy relationship works, AND THOMAS SHOULD FUCKING KNOW THIS!!! When I said he was using Marinette as a Strawman regarding breaking up the Love Square, SHIT LIKE THIS IS WHAT I MEANT!! He is having Marinette display the most empty and pointless of "reasons" for why she can't get together with Adrien, and instead of going "okay, I WANT to be with him, but I can't at this time," she is needlessly beating herself up over a pointless excuse to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!! 

...Why the FUCK are they making going to this museum such a big fucking deal!? Seriously, Marinette, YOU HAVE EMBARRASSED YOURSELF IN FRONT OF HIM IN A LOT OF PUBLIC PLACES, you attempting to kiss what you THOUGHT was a statue of him is nothing fucking special. On the other hand, Luka actually gave genuinely good advice; spending time with him to figure out how she feels and all that. But Marinette going "there's no sound" or whatever, by following Luka's metaphor... that makes me laugh, and not in a good way, because Marinette has ever ONCE dropped her fucking obsession with him. AT ALL. 

"I've been in love with him without ever really being able to talk with him!" Marinette, what you are describing isn't love, it is obsession. SEE A REAL FUCKING THERAPIST AND NOT YOUR MUSICIAN EX BOYFRIEND!!! 

...Marinette, you going "but I feel nothing," basically confirms that NO, you aren't in love with him. You were fucking IDOLIZING him, and IN A VERY CREEPY AND EXCESSIVE WAY. And yet, she hasn't changed her behavior regarding Adrien in the slightest. Ugghh... 

And OF FUCKING COURSE she invites Luka, because why the fuck not!? Ugh, at least there's a reason for it... 

...No. No no no PLEASE tell me we are not going to have a FUCKING MISTAKEN FOR DATING DOUBLE DATE PLOT!!! DO NOT BRING THIS SHIT HERE THOMAS, THIS IS THE LOWEST POSSIBLE WAY YOU COULD DRAG OUT WHAT IS ALREADY A NONSENSICAL PLOT!!! GET THIS SHIT OUT OF HERE!!! Also, Kagami, assuming that Adrien is jealous just because he questioned why Luka was coming along is kinda stupid; there is a genuine REASON to think that Marinette might still be in love with him, given her avoidance, blatant discomfort around Adrien, and oh yeah, THE FACT THAT ADRIEN KNOWS JACK ALL ABOUT HER LIFE. 

Yup, it's a STUPID FUCKING DOUBLE DATE!!! 

Yes, Luka is SPEAKING SENSE. 

I... I'm gonna stop typing and just try and get through this nonsense because I just can't anymore. Thomas has made it clear since DAY FUCKING ONE that he is going to stretch this nonsense out as long as he can, and I'm sick to death of it. Shit like this has honestly killed my ability to believe in Marinette and Adrien as a couple. I just can't with this anymore. I'm just gonna sit back, listen, and try to find something OTHER than this nonsensical "double date" to dissect because I'm just too fucking pissed at all this. 

...Adrien. No. She did not kiss you. She TRIED to kiss you, in one of the most fucking cringe moments in this entire show. If this tries to go where I THINK it's gonna try and go, I am going to FUCKING SCREAM. 

Kagami, Luka, MARINETTE IS THE MOST BLATANTLY OBVIOUS PERSON IN THE WORLD WHEN IT COMES TO HER SIGNALS. The issue is that SHE CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF HER SPIT IT THE FUCK OUT AND GOES OVERBOARD IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION BECAUSE SHE ROUTINELY PUBLICLY EMBARRASSES HERSELF AND HATES HOW SHE ACTS AROUND HIM!!! Dear GOD, how the fuck do these idiots think THIS is "mixed signals!?" This is why I think the concept of "signals" is bullshit. Just... take people at their word. Whether it helps or hurts, trying to go by "signals" is a nightmare of nonsense, confusion, and headaches to me. 

Like, HOW IN THE WORLD did it take Kagami a long time to "figure out Marinette's signals"!? She's apparently known that Marinette is interested in Adrien since the FUCKING ICE RINK!! Which was I'm pretty sure her second ever time MEETING Kagami in the first place, SO NO, SHE NEVER HAD ANY PROBLEM WITH MARINETTE'S FUCKING SIGNALS!!! 

Literally EVERYONE knows that Marinette has an obsessive crush on Adrien!! Literally the only two people who DON'T know that everyone knows this are one another, and we literally had an Akuma force Marinette to blurt it out for the world to hear, SO ADRIEN SHOULDN'T BE UNAWARE EITHER!!! 

Marinette. Stop. You are not OBLIGATED to return whatever fucking feelings he may or may not have for you, SO STOP TRYING TO AVOID THIS FUCKING ISSUE!!! I have put up with this nonsense FOR FIVE SEASONS ALREADY, I AM NOT ENDURING IT ANY LONGER!!!! 

Okay, something LESS stupid (but still super-fucking stupid) to fixate on!! Once again, Andre is an absolute wet blanket who puts zero fucking effort into telling Chloe "no." And THIS moron is who we are supposed to sympathize with for "being bullied by his wife and daughter"? Yeah, no. Shut up. 

I'm not even going to address the nonsensical argument Andre is using for wanting to prevent the room with Ladybug and Chat Noir's statues from debuting, since it's very obvious they are just having him parrot whatever strawman argument they are making Chloe say. It's idiotic. 

O-kay, Andre proceeds to threaten to close down the museum on trumped up charges. I am not going to blame Chloe for this nonsense. Why the FUCK would I blame her for the fact that Andre is both a spineless piece of human garbage, and a corrupt little worm who is willing to abuse his power to spoil Chloe's already rotten ego? 

Funny Andre mentions the "status quo," given how much the writers abuse it to never actually change anything. Oh, and once again Marinette mistakes a live person for a wax statue, and Adrien laughs at her falling in a panic. I just... dude, do you NOT get that laughing at someone humiliating themselves is hurtful...? Oh, wait, no of course he doesn't get it, since apparently he's always found Marinette's clumsiness the height of comedy, utterly oblivious to how much it messes with her self-confidence when that crap happens. It's shit like THIS, that makes me more and more convinced that they ARE NOT GOOD FOR ONE ANOTHER. 

I just "love" how they keep saying Marinette "lost" the Miraculouses. No, she got ROBBED by someone she thought she could fucking trust (granted she thought said person was someone else, but YOU GET THE FUCKING POINT!!). It's Monarch acting as if Felix coming out of nowhere to trade him LITERALLY ALL THE MIRACULOUSES was his plan all along and not something completely out of left field all over again. Once more I say "fuck this shit with a rusty spoon." 

I will VERY grudgingly say this: at least we get a look at how Monarch can get inside someone's head when they try and resist him. Normally it's just "brainwash," but this? Seeing him pry away at an emotional person's vulnerabilities while his powers chip at their ability to focus and think... it's honestly pretty disturbing. I gotta say, for all that it's a low bar to clear, this is the highlight of the episode. 

... "I'm the problem?" "No I'm the problem!!" GET THE FUCK OVER YOURSELVES ALREADY!! I just have no more patience for this nonsensical teenage melodrama. And Adrien, saying "it's okay, I'm here" DOES NOT HELP SOMEONE HAVING A FUCKING PANIC ATTACK OVER THE TWO OF YOU BEING LOCKED INSIDE A SEALED OFF ROOM!!! How the hell do you make him look like this much of an inconsiderate ASS without even noticing!? 

The way the Akuma uses her powers reminds me of Jiangshi and Golems, given the whole "animating a target by placing a piece of paper on their heads." 

I can't even begin to care about Ladybug going on a mini-despair spiral given that this entire fucking episode seems hell-bent on ignoring that both A) it wasn't her fault, since even if she HAD known that Flairmidable was Felix she had no way of knowing he would do something so pointlessly selfish, or even that he COULD given she would have no reason to believe he knows Monarch's identity, and B) that everyone, INCLUDING HERSELF are ignoring her actual problems and reducing it down to "oh, it's just because she can't be HONEST about her feelings!!" Chat, you trying to be supportive doesn't work given how many times you've moped around and acted like a fucking child over Marinette trusting ANYONE besides yourself as a hero, and getting pointlessly jealous and insecure over the very existence of the other Heroes. 

Okay, Andre being more scared of his daughter than he is of the literal Akuma is pathetic but also kind of hilarious. He's such a spineless jackass!! You know, this episode also really highlights how the stupidity in Episode 1 regarding the rules of Miraculouses is BS, since apparently Hawkmoth has no problem giving inanimate wax statues perfect duplications of the powers of other Miraculouses. 

Ladybug, of course the wax statues based on you two look just like you two. And once again, the fake Lucky Charm just produces a stupidly huge and impractical looking sword. Never anything else. 

Marinette, you have literally broken ALL of the other Wax Statues, YOU KNOW THAT IS A STATUE DUPLICATE OF CHAT WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HESITATING!?!? No. Writers, you are not allowed to introduce fucking SHIP TEASE between Ladybug and Chat Noir NOW, not when the entire set up behind it is as forced as this nonsense, AND not after putting so much bullshit in place to add more "drama" to this fiasco of a Love Square!! 

Not even gonna acknowledge Chloe's strawmanning, because once again, everyone is ignoring how asinine this all is. 

WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY TRYING TO DO A SPEECH ABOUT LADYBUG'S "REAL POWER" NOW OF ALL TIMES!? Seriously, SCREW THIS EPISODE. 

Yeah... it is literally impossible to take Chloe seriously as a villain when the most they can make her do is whine and yell about how "lame" Ladybug is. It's stupid. 

No no no DO NOT GIVE ME A "I SEE YOU DIFFERENTLY" MOMENT NOW OF ALL TIMES. Jesus H Christ this is stupid. 

And we get a scene of Marinette crying in the rain. Bullshit. Complete. And Utter. BULLSHIT. I do not care anymore. If I didn't absolutely hate the Love Square already, THIS would have done it for me. I cannot bring myself to give a shit about something that they've dragged out for YEARS, given no development unless it involves pulling it out of their own asses, and now, in the FINAL HOME STRETCH, they decide that this is the "perfect moment" to add MORE drama to this disaster of a relationship. Just... get this thing out of my sight, alright? And with that. I am done. Finished. No more of this episode. May it burn in the pits of hell.

[airborndesigns]

Top 5 TV series to keep you entertained through this heatwave:

1. The After Party (Apple TV) A modern millennial whodunnit comedy set over the course of one night at a high school reunion and, you guessed it, the after party! The assemble cast is great. I don't typically love a Franco, but you're supposed to think he sucks, so it works. Ilana Glaser is adorable as always and I love this role for her. Ben Schwartz gets a musical episode and overall really shines as more than a John Ralphio 2D type character, even though I also adore when he does that as well! Tiffany Haddish has some incredible lines as the detective and without giving too much away, each character gets a backstory episode and I really love how they do this! Sam Richardson and Zoe Chao are popping up everywhere together (eh hem Senior Year on Netflix!) and I loved seeing their faces together again in this. They are super adorable in this will they, won't they dynamic. Go put it on and you'll definitely want to binge till the end to solve the mystery!

#theafterparty #ilanaglazer #benschwartz #tiffanyhaddish #samrichardson #zoechao

2. High Desert (Apple TV) Patricia Arquette plays Peggy, a Pioneertown actress turn private eye who after the death of her mother played by Bernadette Peters, is making her way in the world in gorgeous vintage westernwear and 70's sunglasses with a wonderful dead-pan sense of humor. I could pretty much watch Patricia Arquette do anything, and this series allows just that! You won't expect where it's going and to me this series is the perfect tone. The other casting is fantastic as well. Matt Dillon plays her ex and Christine Taylor plays her sister! It's wonderfully written, hilarious, and between the desert back drop and vintage prints I was so satisfied with how good and visually appealing this show is! Sad story that is didn't get renewed, but maybe we can start a petition to bring it back because I really want to see how this story evolves. If that doesn't work, I will happily rewatch this season since I found it to be really outstanding!

#highdesert #patriciaarquette #bernadettepeters #mattdillon #christinetaylor

3. Poker Face (Peacock) I know, I know, another mystery show and this time a role Jessica Fletcher would be jealous of? Natasha Lyonne's Poker Face is downright brilliant! She is so fun to watch as she interacts with tons of characters (including Judith Light) on her road trip or escape from which mountain? Not to give any spoilers, we'll just say she's driving a vintage car and each episode is kinda a different storyline. There is some continuity between the episodes but they all kinda stand on their own as well. I really liked this about it. It harkens back to the days of Murder She Wrote, Columbo, and maybe even 21 Jumpstreet! Her character, Charlie Cale's vintage looks are all so sweet and I really appreciated her wardrobe as it pertains to each new storyline. The acting is a real treat and you'll definitely want to pack snacks for this little roadside adventure.

#pokerface #natashalyonne #judithlight #murdershewrote

4. The Horror of Dolores Roach (Amazon Prime) This series has the tiniest bit of a slow start, but the promise of a Cyndi Lauper cameo plus an original song on the soundtrack made me stick with it and I'm so glad I did! This show is super original with has a wonderfully dark sense of humor. Dolores, played by Justina Machado is recently out of prison and uses her "magic hands" as a masseuse to land on her feet. The character Luis, comes us with creative ways to solve their problems and should be creepy from the start but comes across endearing as a real testament to the likability of the actor Alejandro Hernandez. I really loved seeing how this story evolved throughout the season.

#thehorrorofdoloresroach #doloresroach #justinamachado #alejandrohernandez #cyndilauper

5. Survival of the Thickest (Netflix) Michelle Buteau is a mood and her world is where I want to live all summer long! This show is a wonderful watch in every way! Michelle is so funny and the story is poignant while remaining silly and very rewatchable. I'm already starting it for the second time. My favorite episode is the last one, due to the beautiful story arc, so I'm just gonna have to watch them all again to get there! I'm so glad this series came out this summer. It is such a lovely tribute to friendship, working hard, having integrity, and above all fun! We need all the queer joy we can get right now! Thank you Michelle Buteau!

#survivalofthethickest #michellebuteau #queerjoy

[smillingcartoonist]

Silly Children and Their Silly Magic Pets (Hurricane Landing)

Digimon Adventure 02:  Digimon Hurricane Landing!!/Transcendent Evolution!! The Golden Digimentals, Hurricane Lading for short, is a movie directed by Shigeyasu Yamauchi. It tells the story of Wallace and the friend that he lost a long time ago.

Some years ago I decide to watch Digimon again for the first, since it as to long since I watched, I was a child and have little memory of anything, when I watched the first series I expected to suck actually, but for my pleasant surprise, Digimon is actually quite good, propaning a small obsession for the time as well. I also watched with the intent of finding something similar to an Adventure Time element in it, something oddly more mature insert into a children's cartoon and that seems to be the basis for most of these first series of the show !! but no better is an example then this weird little movie.

But before I ramble about it, let’s set some context, Digimon adventures was in concept, a show made to sell toys, and Digimon is a clear offshoot of Pokemon, so how do you create a show based on that ? Well from the look of things the creators just had liberty to do whatever with, and they did, setting some ground rules for it’s inner working, the digimons series works more in a multiverse kind of way, having almost every iteration of it happen in its own separate universe. 

Before Hurricane Landing came War Games, that is the ultimate saturday afternoon movie, having our heroes here deal with a version of the bug of the millennium, the movie is fast paced, fun, funny and overall a nice sit down of a watch. Not much later the second series of Digimon started, having a new character at the lead together with an older version of the previous, and shortly a second movie came out as well.

Hurricane Landing starts showing a young boy, Wallace, and his two digimon pals, Chocomon and Gummymon, playing in a flower field, then some unexplained event happens that result in the disappearance of Chocomon. The opening with the main theme of 02 follows, showing out main characters in their daily lives, much similar to how War Games open, the following scene is a confrontation between Digimons, We have Wallace and Gummymon fighting a hulking monster that he believe is Chocomon, and it’s here that the movie start to feel more odd, we have an action scene, but the soundtrack is accompanied by… someone banging on a xylophone ?! okay that’s odd, the general tone of mood is completely different from War Games, being less exciting and more dramatic or at least it’s trying to be.

The movie is kinda of a road trip, happening in America, we have our main characters follow and eventually help out Wallace in his desperate quest to bring back Chocomon to his senses, ignoring the ridiculous of the premise, we have a way more dramatic and slow story then the previous movie with a experimental soundtrack that doesn’t really fit in, It should not work, but it does, Hurricane Landing is not wonderful but I do find it interesting.

It’s visuals are the strong point of it, being way visually stunning at it’s climax where everyone fights off Chocomon corrupted evolutions at the flower field from the begging of the movie, the fight happen in three stages, the first one where the first evolution happen, and the sky turns darker, follow by the second stage where another evolution happens turning the whole scenery into inverted colors, our heroes digimon are brought back to their previous evolutions, and the third stage where the whole scenery turns into a haze of dark and our heroes and their digimons are turn to their infant forms and all hope is lost, but as always an deus ex-machina happens and Wallace and Daisuke Digimon’s are turned into their golden Digimental forms, in this last stand of hope they launch their attack against Chocomon, for a brief moment they think have won before being shallow in the jaws of Chocomon, the creature laughs with all hope of our heroes lost, when first watching this my jaw dropped I couldn't not believe what I was seeing, it’s incredible ballsy to do something like that !! of course everything's not lost, V-Mon and Gummymon awaken inside of Chocomon and see what is the last of his conscious ask them to kill him, and so they do, changing what as a monster to what would be the real Chocomon, for a brief moment before it fades into specks of light. The movie ends showing Wallace and Gummymon running toward what is seen as a digimon egg, presumably Chocomon egg’s.

Hurricane Landing has grit to it for making somewhat of a dark and depressing story and that would dictate how the rest of 02 would be, reminder that this movie release before the show hitted it’s middle arc where we have Ichijouji redemption arc and Black Wargreymon arc and the rest of the story in general taking up a notch and being way more mature in it’s story. The following series would also follow in the example and also have a touch more of maturity into as well. I can say much about the rest of the series, but the Tri. Movies also have that grit to it as well, to be fair the last movie is just the ending of Hurricane Landing without the cool visuals and the bittersweet ending. Ghost Game, the least series launched, did lack that component, being way more of a usual kids cartoon, which is kinda of a shame, the maturity of the Digimon story telling is what set it apart from being just another kids show.    

[outerbankies]

You know how teenager rafe is gonna just be spiralling over reader going to prom with someone else? I’m going to cry cause like he’s a baby and he doesn’t know why he has these feeling for this one person that he’s always kind of orbited around?? And he knows she’s it for him but only deep down cause he’s trying to figure so much out and how could you know who you’re going to end up with at the age of 17 let alone 10 or 12 but he’s always known and aaaaah imagine that kind of love

an angsty little pre-series prom blurb partially inspired by this ^ ask that made me spiralll. thanks anon i hope u like this!

—

new light blurb: before we knew — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

obv takes place pre-series in high school! referenced in part 1

warnings: underage drinking

“Top, it’s not fucking funny.”

“It’s kinda fucking funny, Y/n/n. Like, way more than a little.”

Rafe had ditched the last fifteen minutes of statistics when he finished his test early today, and he’d been messing around on his phone for ten minutes waiting for the rest of you to come and get in Topper’s Jeep so you could all go to lunch off-campus today.

Rafe stands up straight from where he’d been leaning against the hood when he hears your voice approaching, his smile matching yours once you see him. “Hey, Rafe. How did your stats test go?”

“Good, hey, Y/n. What’s not funny?” he asks, opening the passenger side door for you before sliding into the backseat behind you.

“Oh, get this, Rafe,” Topper says, laughing. You just groan again, clicking your seatbelt on. “Griffin is gonna ask Y/n to prom. Tomorrow.”

Rafe blanches. “Griffin?”

He knew Griffin thought you were hot. Certainly had to hear it enough times in the pool at practice every day. Rafe always found himself biting back a remark—well, almost always. As captain, Rafe was able to tell everyone to run another play whenever he felt like it. The extra exertion in the pool was nothing compared to having to tread water and hear his teammate talk about you like that.

But even after all of that, he still had no idea Griffin had the balls to actually make a move on you. Because Rafe could tell you’d seriously rather die than ever give Griffin the time of day. And Griffin had been pursuing you without luck for months, even though you’d been trying to gently show you weren’t interested. Half of the time, Rafe wished you'd just tell him to fuck off.

The other half of the time, Rafe was considering just doing it for you.

Rafe clears his throat after his outburst, a finger digging into a hole in his jeans. “How do you know?”

“He just told me in PE,” Topper says. “He said he has this huge banner, and speakers, and he’s gonna do it at lunch right in the middle of the quad—”

“Topper.” You cut him off a bit more seriously this time; Rafe can hear the shift in your tone. You've always hated being anywhere close to the center of attention, getting embarrassed by the smallest things others wouldn’t even think about. If Griffin actually knew anything about you the way Rafe does, he’d know you wouldn’t like something big and flashy. “Can you stop?”

“Hey, cut it out, Top,” Rafe is saying immediately. Topper just rolls his eyes, but Rafe doesn’t care. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Rafe,” you say, smiling over your shoulder at him. “M’fine.”

“Do you want me to tell Griffin to—”

Topper laughs from the driver’s seat, clearing his throat to cover it up when you look over at him. You look back at Rafe, and his heart breaks at the worry in your face. “Don’t, Rafe.”

“Are you gonna say yes?”

“No,” you immediately laugh, looking at him like the idea is preposterous.

“Oh c’mon, Y/n/n. Can’t say no to him in front of all those people,” Topper teases. “And where the fuck is Kelce? I’m starving.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna embarrass him. I’ll just find him after school today and tell him I’m going with Kelce.”

Topper’s eyes widen, Rafe catches it in the rearview mirror before he hurriedly looks away. Rafe clears his throat, settling back into his seat from where he’d been leaning into the front space to talk with you. “You—uh, are you actually going with Kelce?”

“Yeah,” you nod, distracted by your phone. “We said we’d go together if we didn’t find dates. Kelce didn’t really wanna ask anyone after what happened last summer. And after nearly being set up with Top last night, I’m about ready to throw in the towel.“

Rafe looks to his friend that sits in the driver’s seat, who's looking straight at his lap, the back of his neck bright red. “Wait, you two?”

“It was just our parents, dude. Went to dinner at the club last night and our moms brought it up,” Topper mumbles. You giggle at the idea, completely unaware of the energy in the car right now.

“Yeah, sorry, Thornton. But no thanks. You and Emily should be really cute, though,” you say earnestly, patting his shoulder.

Topper just stares straight ahead. “Thanks, Y/n/n.”

“And then this thing with Griffin—I’m just so over the idea of finding an actual date at this point,” you sigh. “Plus, I know Kelce won’t put up a fight about the color scheme. I’m thinking like, aqua. Or maybe pink? I don't think I'd look good in gold.”

You'll look good in absolutely anything, and Rafe will just have to watch you from across the floor of the Island Club, while Kelce twirls you around the dance floor or holds you close during a slow dance.

The guy in question opens the car door and slides into the backseat next to Rafe right then, sighing as he slides his backpack off. “Sorry guys, coach stopped me in the hall. Where are we eating?”

Rafe glares at him.

“I want a smoothie,” you declare from the front seat.

“Fine with me,” Topper nods, pulling out of his parking spot. “Guys?”

“Can we go to that place with the deli next door? I’m so hungry,” Kelce says.

“Yeah, I like their açaí bowls,” you say, twisting around to look at Rafe one more time. He must not be able to hide his emotions as much as he thought, because your smile drops when you see him. “Rafe? Does that sound good?”

He turns his body to look out the window, eyes flicking back to yours one last time. “Not hungry.”

—

Rafe meets Topper and Kelce at the dock later that night, the three of them intending to get drunk and maybe take Topper’s boat out if they felt like it.

Kelce is already there by the time Rafe pulls up, drinking a beer with Topper while they laugh at something on his phone.

And Rafe paces right down the dock, snatches Kelce’s phone out of his hand, and pushes him off the platform and into the water.

“Rafe, dude,” Topper says, immediately pushing him back by his chest.

“What the fuck?” Kelce sputters, spitting out water as he surfaces and climbs the ladder back up. “What is your fucking problem?”

“You couldn’t ask literally fucking anyone else? It had to be Y/n?” Rafe says, laughing indignantly. He looks down at where Topper is still keeping them separated. “And you—what the fuck—”

“I told you, man. It was just our moms. We didn’t even consider it,” Topper says, rolling his eyes.

“You both lied to me,” Rafe accuses. “Because you knew I’d be mad.”

“And why’s that, Rafe?” Kelce spits, reaching around Topper to try and push at his chest. “Why are you mad? Not like you were gonna ask her.”

“No,” Rafe says immediately. And he isn’t even lying; it’d never crossed his mind as a possibility. Which is why he can’t even begin to try and work out why he’s this upset about it. He didn’t do anything to stop this, but it’s still happening, and it’s making him crazy. “You know my dad’s making me take Reagan since we’re both on prom court.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kelce grumbles. “I was gonna tell you.”

“When?”

“Soon, I just—we made the plan so long ago, bro. Neither of us wanted to worry about dates… but I gave it time because I thought you might—I dunno,” Kelce trails off, shrugging. “I dunno.”

“Thought I might what?”

“Figure your shit out and ask her yourself,” Topper says, coming back from the boathouse with a towel that he passes to Kelce.

“Even if I could, Y/n/n would never say yes to me,” Rafe scoffs, shaking his head and reaching for the six-pack they were working through.

Topper scoffs back. “Oh, yeah ri—”

“Guess we’ll never know,” Kelce says, cutting him off while he dumps the water out of his shoes. He sighs at his soaked clothes before he looks back up at Rafe. “You know I’m not into her right? We’re just going as friends. It’s senior prom.”

“Why would I care what you’re going as?” Rafe says, shifting in discomfort, hand clutching his already-half-empty beer can a little tighter. “None of it even matters.”

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, bro,” Kelce sighs, grabbing his phone out of Rafe’s hand and pushing past him to go change.

—

“Nice taste, Y/l/n.”

You whirl around from where you’d been adjusting Kelce’s boutonnière (you’d only pricked him twice, which was a personal record for you) at the sound of Rafe’s voice, plastering on a smile before you face him. Your eyes drop to his attire immediately. “Oh shit, Rafe. We match.”

“I know,” he laughs. “My step-mom wants a picture.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in your heels, the tule of your dress suddenly itchy against your legs. “Um. Shouldn’t you take one with Reagan?”

“We already took a million. From every angle. With every possible fucking pose,” Rafe sighs. “C’mon, please? Before the limo comes.”

Rafe grabs your hand and you look back at Kelce who just nods, downing some champagne. “Take care of my date, Cameron.”

You can see Rafe just shake his head where you trail behind him, leading you back to where Rose is talking to one of the other moms. “There you are. Your dress is beautiful! I wish we'd found one like that for Reagan. It looks great with Rafe's tuxedo.”

“Uh, yeah. It's nice to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” you say politely, ignoring the last half of what she said completely. She pulls up her phone and Rafe’s bringing you into his side, his hand resting in the middle of your back.

“This okay?” he murmurs, his breath fanning over your neck as he leans down.

“Yep,” you say quickly, but you can’t help but look around and catch multiple of your friends watching you, including Reagan, who promptly rolls her eyes once you make eye contact with her.

“Y/n, sweetie, just a few pictures for the newsletter,” Rose says, reminding you of your purpose right now.

“Right, sorry,” you say.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers. You look up at him, feeling his hand bring you closer to his body. “Take this a little more seriously, Y/l/n. Don’t you know that the next issue of the Island Club newsletter will be completely ruined without this one specific photo, that will probably be squished into the corner of a terribly- edited collage?”

You laugh in surprise, hitting him on his chest for joking about his step-mom right in front of her. “Rafe. Be nice.”

He just grins down at you, before straightening up and turning back to the camera. “If I’m nice, will you save a dance for me later tonight?”

You’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore, because then he’d see the way your smile faltered before you turn back to the camera as well. “Sure.”

—

“How is my flask empty?” Kelce groans, tipping it over and shaking it out for emphasis.

“That’s what happens when you drink it all, bud,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at you, linking his arm in yours as you both pass through the crowd to find Topper and his date, Emily. You all watch Rafe up on stage, waiting to inevitably be crowned prom king.

He was a shoo-in anyway, but you’d definitely distracted your English teacher with a conversation about the 1984 essay you just turned in while Topper and Kelce stuffed the ballot box he was meant to be guarding.

Rafe seemed like he couldn’t care less about stuff like prom court, just shaking his head when his name was announced over the speaker as a nominee three weeks ago at lunch.

And he’d dragged his feet through finding a date, just shrugging whenever you brought it up to him, prying partially for your own sake.

You couldn’t figure out why he seemed so averse to the entire event, but you supposed that was better than having to hear him go on and on about Reagan and how he asked her and what corsage he bought for her and if he was bringing her to after-prom—or anything else that would’ve dragged up some feelings you thought you’d firmly buried at this point, telling yourself for years that you never stood a chance with Rafe.

But the closer graduation got, the more you’ve been realizing that things with your friends would never be the same. Things with Rafe would never be the same.

“Kildare Academy, your prom king is Rafe Cameron,” the DJ says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Kelce and Topper cheer obnoxiously while you laugh, a little grateful they’re both drunk and distracted—so happy their plan worked (Rafe subtly flips them off behind his back as he’s crowned) that they can’t notice the way your shoulders slump as Rafe leads Reagan, just crowned queen, out to the middle of the dance floor while some Ed Sheeran song starts playing through the speakers. You’d roll your eyes at the terrible music selection if that was what you could focus on.

All you could focus on was wondering if Rafe would even remember that you promised him a dance tonight.

Kelce is dramatically bringing you into his arms as the prom court dance takes place, subtly turning you around so your back faces the stage and the court, smiling as he holds your waist. “C’mon, dance with me.”

—

Rafe’s letting go of Reagan as soon as the song ends and everybody cheers, dashing off to the DJ booth after telling her he’d be back in a bit. She merely shrugged before adjusting her crown and going off to some friends.

“Hey man, can I pull some prom king privilege right now?” he says, leaning in to speak into the guys’ ear. “I have a song request.”

“Playlist is set, approved by the school,” he says dismissively.

“Thought you might say that,” Rafe grumbles, reaching into his breast pocket before he can take the time to wonder if he’s really going to do this—if he’s really going to bribe the DJ to play a song by your favorite band before he goes to cash in on that dance together that you’d promised.

He hands him a crisp hundred.

The DJ sighs, snatching it out of his hand and pocketing it while Rafe smirks in victory. “Alright, what song, country club?”

And then it's practically a race to find you before the Kid Cudi remix currently playing ends. Rafe heads off in the direction where Topper and Kelce had been yelling when he was on stage, evening his pace when he spots you jumping around with Kelce, your dress fanning around you while you laugh, the string lights illuminating your face.

You’re smiling so big that it stops Rafe in his tracks.

Guys had always shown interest in you, and you turned most of them down. Not all of them; Rafe still had to see you with guys who absolutely did not deserve you giving them the time of day, sometimes at parties or maybe at the Club. Rafe could usually lie to himself, write off these feelings as some protectiveness over you, a nice girl who’d been a good friend to him his entire life. Rafe was protective of all the people he held close in his life, why wouldn’t he look out for you, too?

But something must have changed, because now—now Rafe’s looking at you, and he knows time is running out before you both set off on your futures. He has three weeks of school left with you, then a summer of seeing you around. And then... that's it.

And now he’s looking at you, those feelings less and less ignorable with every single second closer Rafe gets to not having you around him every day anymore.

Those feelings are crowding every corner of his mind, finally coming to the surface after all of the drama with prom dates had forced Rafe to wonder why he couldn’t stand you going with Griffin or Topper or Kelce. Couldn’t stand thinking about you ever being with someone that wasn’t him—a reality he knows he’d have to get used to you a lot quicker than it took him to even realize he’d fallen for you.

Because the future’s coming, and maybe in the future you actually end up with someone like Griffin, or Mateo, or that guy from the party that one time, or that touron from New England that your parents tried to set you up with, some hotshot you brought home from California after a semester, or Kelce—even Topper. Your parents would love that one. And one day in this future, you’re running into Rafe on the soccer field; your kids play for the same team together. Rafe ended up settling for someone he could never like half as much as he loved you, and he sees you across the field with a sweater tied around your shoulders, chatting with all of the other moms. The lucky asshole you finally chose just watches you the way Rafe always had, the way he is now as you dance with his best friend, the way Rafe will probably never be able to stop himself from doing.

Or maybe there's another future without you, where you move away to somewhere that suits you; the Outer Banks had never good enough for you, in his mind. Maybe you stay in California after school. And you bring home that hotshot that’s perfectly matched for you, who gets to hold you and kiss you and have you. Rafe only gets to see you every once in a while, when you decide to grace the Outer Banks with your presence for the holidays or for Midsummers. Maybe in this scenario, Rafe was never able to find someone else, maybe he shows up solo while you flash your engagement ring when the old crew gets together for drinks—no, you wouldn’t do that. You’d be absolutely smitten with whoever won your heart, showing the ring he got you to your girl friends with an embarrassed little smile pulling at your lips while they all gush over it. And maybe one of your friends jokes about how Rafe used to have a crush on you. You'll just laugh and shrug it off, nodding—because you knew all along. Of course you knew, everyone had to know at this point. And Rafe can picture you merely laughing at his feelings for you as the other guy gets to pull you closer on his lap.

The opening chords of your song snap him out of his reverie. He can see the exact moment you realize what song it is.

Rafe beelines for you, holding his hand out as soon as he’s in your vicinity, fully pretending he hadn’t just realized he’s fallen for one of his closest friends in the middle of prom. Like he hadn't realized that he wasn't just into you, didn't just think you were cute or like the way you made him feel when you remembered his stats tests or wore his shirt to his water polo games. Like he hadn't just realized that no matter how many times he'd told himself it didn't bother him that much that you'd never come close to giving him the time of day, that he'd never forget what it felt like to not even be on your radar.

“You promised me a dance, Y/n.”

You look at him and his outstretched hand and smile, then look back to Kelce, who's quickly letting you out of his arms, casting an accusatory glance at Rafe. But then he smiles a little. “I'm gonna hit the restrooms.”

“Too bad our one dance is gonna be to a song by a band you hate,” you laugh, accepting Rafe's hand. Rafe’s on autopilot, his hands resting on your lower back while yours move to his chest, swaying the two of you in little circles. The song is already through with the first verse.

“I don’t hate this band,” he lies. But maybe it’s not a lie—how could he hate anything you loved?

“Okay, prom king,” you laugh, fiddling with his pocket square a little, the one that matches your dress. “Still can’t believe we ended up matching.”

“Great minds, Y/l/n,” he shrugs, eyes trained on your face. Your hands slip up around his shoulders, and you nudge the plastic crown on his head before leaving your arms to rest there, fingers locked behind his neck. Rafe pulls you closer. The second chorus was already starting up. Time was running out.

“I’m not sure what the optics are of our matching and you leaving the prom queen to come dance with your friend,” you say, your small smile turning into a frown. “Reagan already seemed pissed earlier.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Rafe says. “It’s just you and me right now.”

“When we go off to college, I think I might just miss you, Cameron,” you say, smiling.

And Rafe might not ever get to tell you how he feels, or ever be with you the way he wants to, but at least he got to dance with you at his senior prom.

“I know I'm gonna miss you.”

—

@moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids @fangirlvoice @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @pogueslandia @loveylangdon @oopsiedoopsie23 @sodasback @rafeseggplant @cooper8224 @rafeyybabyy @lemur46 @cameronsrafe @theepoguelandia @judayyyw @irlpadfoot @synonymforlame @tinawhynot @mildkleptomaniac @ilymarkchan @sofiatheseconf @hockeyshmockey @supersouthy @coffeeandcrimeshows @emptyloverofmine @infinitleyethereal @nerdypartytrashpsychic @mrs-cameron @tcmhollnd @nicavass @sakikos @catonthesideoftheroad @jemimah-b99 @serrendipiity @depressinq @svechnibrock @julianakawaja @ctrlcherries @lostaurorax @wildflower98 @babygirl2022 @lieswithoutfairytales @painlesslies @messagesinthesky @orrsoared @destourtereaux @sammywilscn @tylernagle @anonymousobxfan @lilacsandwhiskey @raphaelcameron @mardema @princesspogue @alwaysclassyeagle @brittlehe-art @drewswrld

[therealteddybear-sry]

Be Mine Part 1.

Okay so I had this Idea about all the baku boys fighting over you and i got a bit tired writing so this will be in parts. I might turn this into a yandere series if it goes well, anyways I hope you enjoy!

Btw this is my first full fic and English is my second language so apologies for misspelling and grammar.

Be Mine

Denki x gn!reader, Kirishima x gn!reader, Sero x gn!reader, Bakugo x gn!reader | fluff, slightly suggestive| Tw: mentions of food, a little swearing | everyone knows Bakugo likes you except for, well you, and the other bakusquad boys who also had crushes on you got tired of Bakugo not asking you out so they hold a competition on who gets to date you. 

You really did it this time y/n. You thought it would be fun, but now you're in one of the most uncomfortable situations you have ever been in. It all went wrong with that one idea Denki had.

* * *

“Listen Bakugo, it’s been months now and if you’re going to chicken out with asking l/n on a date again I will,” Kirishima said with a  confident yet understanding tone.  

“Eeeh, don't you fucking dare shitty hair,” Bakugo replied

“Actually we all will!” Denki and Sero chimed in “it’s been a while and you can’t keep us away from someone you're not actually with.”

 “Ya’know, since we all like her what if we did a little competition on who can give them the best date?” asked Denki a sly grin tugging at the ends of his lips. 

“wa-WAIT!” called Bakugo chasing after Kirishima and the others who had started running to find you after silently agreeing on the plan.

“Y/N!”  hollered Kirishima getting to you first “will you go on a date with me?” 

“Us too!” Denki and Sero added out of breath noticing Bakugo uncharacteristically hiding behind the corner too nervous to face you. Flustered at the sudden interest in ones-self all you could muster was a squeaky “all of you?”

“If that you're okay with that. Not all at once though.” chuckled Sero, tickled at how bashful you were being. 

Thinking it might be a fun experience to try, and since you did kinda like them. You agreed setting up the times and places of these dates failing to notice the jealous crimson eyes peering at you. The current plans were; first, you would go to the arcade with Denki on Saturday, then it would be Sero, and you two were going to the movies on Sunday. And since it was a long weekend you had Monday off and were going to an amusement park with Kirishima. With a fully packed weekend, you went to bed excited for what was to come. Once the painfully slow days that followed passed it was time for your first date. The gossip about your dates spread like wildfire and because of that, the girls helped you get ready, of course, followed by endless teasing. Standing in the dorm entrance waving to everyone as you and Denki walked to the nearby arcade. You clutched onto his arm slightly resting your head on his shoulder knowing this display of affection was driving him crazy.

“Have you been to this arcade before?” you asked trying to start small talk to fill up the silence, fidgeting with your hands.

“Yeah tons! They have the best pizza and games.”

“Really! I don’t think I’ve had pizza before,”

“Well then we are fixing that tonight, pizza is amazing!” smiled Denki wrapping his arm around your waist. Before you knew it you were standing outside the arcade. When you saw it the only thing you thought was wow. It was so bright and lively and, neon, you felt like a moth to a flame being drawn in by all of the colours and lights. 

“Come on!” Called Denki, cheerfully pulling your arm, leading you towards the ball of light. A small squeak left your lips and the sudden movement. Doe-eyed with excitement and shock at the sudden pull he couldn't help but chuckle at how cute you looked. Flushing red with embarrassment you looked down. He then approached you getting even closer, he cupped the left cheek of your face. “Don’t be shy you’re just adorable that's all, how ‘bout getting that pizza”

“Kk!” you squealed smiling as it was your turn to drag him towards the eating area. Continuing the playful conversations as before, the server brought your guyses pizza. You both were laughing your asses off when you took your first bite trying to pull the stretching cheese away from your already stuffed mouth trying not to choke as Denki was almost crying at how much you looked like a squirrel with your stuffed cheeks and the amount you were struggling over some cheese. After Denki had finally calmed down enough to save you from the cheese -which you just couldn't beat-, you both finished your food this time without almost dying. The two of you ran to play some of the games. Table hockey, dance master, you two even went into one of those photo booths, hours sped by like seconds and after all those games you were going to cash in your tickets when another game caught your eye. The blonde looked ready to leave, you grabbed his arm and started jumping up and down like a child and pointed at the game. Revived by the attention he agreed to play with you. Being kind he let you win, gathering both of your tickets you two cashed them in and got a heck ton of candy, matching purple and pink star sunglasses, and three glowsticks. Once you two collected your prizes, you took it to the streets. Making a few TikTok's wearing your star glasses, glow bracelets, and chugging pixie sticks along with the other candies you got. Suddenly after walking back together you, start running and playfully half hid half swung behind a nearby street lamp poking your head to the side, sticking your tongue out at him as he started jogging to catch up with you. Slightly out of breath Denki was now beside you, taking this opportunity you kiss him on the cheek and ran off giggling not stopping till you get to the comfort of your dorm room. Shocked at the spontaneous kiss he just walks back processing what happened not bothering to chase after you.

[silversatoru]

hey shawty could you do number 15 with dabi? ANGST please <33 with a female reader

thank you i love you

silvers 1.2k event info

(1.5k? i’m doing these way too slow :’) but there’s more spots open if you still wanna join!!)

touya + “it’s 2:00am, where the hell are you?”

dabi/todoroki touya x f!reader

synopsis: touya loves to take advantage of your soft spot for him

t/w: nsfw 18+, manipulation, toxic relationship dynamic, degradation, mild humiliation, spit, creampie, mention of alcohol consumption

a/n: hello my fav shawty bae, my one and only, my soulmate, hope u like this <3 it got a little more self-indulgent than i would like to admit

a soft intermittent buzzing sounded from under your pillow, your body jerking awake and rolling over to grab your phone. the screen shined bright against your tired eyes, a string of unknown numbers glaring across the screen. you weren’t sure why an unknown number was calling in the middle of the night, but ready to give the asshole telemarketer a piece of your mind you slammed your finger on the green answer button.

“hello?” your words roped venom through the phone, still angry about your disturbed sleep.

“hey sweetheart~ i need a favor”.

you felt your heart practically leap into your throat, your mouth going dry and your stomach twisting into vicious knots. the voice was very distinctly touya’s, and an incredibly drunk touya at that. the same touya that used you like a disposal product more times than you could count — the touya that continued to endlessly shatter your heart.

“touya? are you drunk?” your voice had become several octaves softer, an all too eager pitch ringing in your words.

“whaaat? no,” he played the lie off terribly, audibly stumbling over his own legs and cursing almost immediately afterword, “okay, maybe”.

he was definitely drunk, you were 100% certain of it — the ocean-eyed scumbag wouldn’t have even thought about you unless he was absolutely plastered.

“it’s 2:00am, where the hell are you?” you made feeble attempts to sound angry, but your voice was laced with more concern than you cared to admit.

“uhh... fuck, hold on,” a series of thumps and crackles sounded after that, and you could hear touya’s slurred speech as he asked someone where he was.

“second street,” he repeated the information he’d been given, “you know, the one with all the frats”.

“sounds like your standards are lower than ever,” you let the insult side between your lips, and it felt good to put him down for once.

“they were never very high to begin with,” he let an unamused chuckle fall with his words, “it’s not that far from campus, can you come? pretty please?”

you wanted to tell him no more than anything in the world — to spit in his face and give him a taste of his own medicine, just to see how he liked it, but you couldn’t. why you continued to care for such a damaged, garbage man was beyond your knowledge, but you were helpless against the ache in your chest.

“yeah i’ll be there in fifteen minutes, and go inside, it’s cold out,” the words spilled from your mouth before you could even question your own horrible judgement.

“that’s my girl,” touya’s cocky, slurred tone rolled the words out so perfectly, your heart catching in your chest at the endearing way he referred to you.

dial tone rung out through your ears after that, and you drug yourself out of bed to throw on a jacket and shoes. with extreme disappointment in yourself you grabbed an extra coat from the closet — just incase touya was cold.

and he definitely was, because for some reason he was sitting outside in the frigid air when you finally pulled up next to the decaying frat house. you exited your car with the spare jacket in your hand and concern painted on your face — coming to his rescue just like he knew you would.

“touya! it’s freezing and that’s what you’re wearing!?” you shoved the jacket into his arms, a dumb smile sliding across his face as you scolded him like some kind of mother — it really was pitiful how much you still cared.

“must have misplaced my sweatshirt,” he chuckled, nonchalantly throwing his arms through the holes of the coat.

you rolled your eyes at his irresponsibility, slipping one arm underneath both of his and helping his wobbly form stand from the bench he’d been slumped on. the two of you hobbled to the car in silence, helping him into the passengers seat and then walking yourself back around to the drivers. you turned on the car and switched on your seat warmers, not wanting him to get any colder than he already was.

“so what shitty apartments are you crashing in now?” you let your words carry more edge than they usually did, but you were actually curious where he was living now — he always seemed to hop from one shit hole to another.

“they’re kinda far from here, and i can’t remember how to get there right now,” he shook his head, and you were almost certain he was lying right through his teeth, “can’t i just come back to yours?”

you fought with yourself for a few seconds, but ultimately gave in to him with way too much ease. maybe this time he’ll stay, maybe this time he actually wanted to spend some time with you, maybe just this once he’s not using you.

“okay, but you’re sleeping on the couch,” you shot him a firm glance, attempting to set some boundaries to protect your delicate heart.

sleeping on the couch my ass — your body was pinned beneath his the second you two walked through the door.

alcohol-stained lips worked roughly against yours, and you were helpless to push him away. as much as you hated him, you would settle for any crumb of affection that he was willing to give you.

“god, you’re so easy,” he hummed into your ear as he nibbled on your neck, undoubtedly leaving you with dark markings down the soft skin, “so stern about me sleeping on the couch, and now you’re practically melting. what happened?”

you didn’t even bother to indulge him with a reply, your stomach already boiling with shame and regret as you weaved your fingers into his dark hair. but it’s not like he expected an answer from you either, this is how things always played out between the two of you. you’d try to be stern, hold your ground, grasp onto a shred of self-respect; but the second he laid a finger on you you turned to putty.

“that’s what i thought,” he chuckled to himself, pulling his nose out of the crook of your neck and tugging on the waistband of your pajama shorts, “take these off, sweetheart. be good like you always are”.

it was mortifying how quickly you scrambled to get undressed for him, so shamefully desperate for any attention he was willing to give. and you peeling off your clothing was all the consent touya needed to get to work. he may be an asshole, a complete scumbag, a toxic, manipulative piece of shit, but he was not a rapist — he does have some morals, although barely.

he shoved his fingers down into the folds of your cunt, eyes glistening at the slick that immediately soaked his fingertips, “such a good girl for me”.

you squirmed at his harsh movements, and the praise brainwashed you further than you already were — intoxicating your heart and convincing you that you were more than just his sorry little fuck hole.

touya wasn’t much for foreplay, after all this was about him, not you. he dropped his dirty sweats to the floor, freeing his long, curved cock and wincing as it shot up towards his abdomen.

he never makes any effort to ensure your comfort, thinking about his pleasure and satisfaction only — forcing open your legs and sheathing himself inside your pussy before you could comprehend that it was happening. strangled gasps and yelps of pain flew from your lips, your legs wrapping around him.

“you need to have some more respect for yourself, princess,” he grunted as he mercilessly fucked himself into you right from the start, “i’m starting think you like being my irrelevant little fucktoy”.

you let out a few pitiful whimpers, eyes watering from the burning pain that ripped through you as you stretched and adjusted to his size. it wasn’t that you liked being used like this, it was that you were all too hopeful that he’d eventually love you the way you love him. embarrassing.

“you’d do anything for me wouldn’t you?” he stared down at you, eyes hazy as he slowed down and leaned over you, spitting into your gaping mouth, “swallow it”.

he was trying to prove a point, and your soft lips clamping shut as you swallowed down his wad of saliva proved it perfectly — you would do anything for him.

“you love coming to my rescue, love feeling like you matter to me, love being a hole that i fuck,” he wrapped his fingers around the sides of your neck, squeezing tightly as he kept up his ruthless pace, “i wanna hear you say it, tell me you love me”.

a garbled i love you flew from your lips, followed by a plethora of pleas and begs that only made you look even more pitiful. just want you to stay with me, touya! want you to be safe! wanna help you feel good!

your confession and collection of pleas only fed his god complex — you were so obedient, so easy to break through with little to no effort. and it was sad, so sad that dabi almost pitied you.

he fucked you hard until you couldn’t even think straight, eyes rolling back into your fucked-out face as he pumped you full of cum and and his groans filled the room. then he walked into the bathroom to clean himself up, leaving your messy, abused cunt to leak his fluids all over your bed.

once he finally came back out he tossed you a damp towel, which you lazily used to clean yourself up. he grabbed his pants off the floor and began to get dressed as you stared at him with big eyes, eyes that begged if he was going to stay with you tonight.

and he decided that fine, he’d indulge you just this once, just to keep you complaint. he climbed under your sheets and let you curl up against his chest — so pathetic. he’d let you fall asleep like that, but the second your breaths slowed and small snores escaped your mouth, he slipped out from the blankets and took his leave.

oh how heartbroken you’d be when you woke up without him tomorrow morning, tears staining your gullible cheeks and hiccups racking through your throat. he could practically picture the pitiful scene. you’d sulk around for a couple weeks, chest aching that you weren’t good enough, and then as soon as you’d start to get over him he’d call you again.

undoubtedly, you’d come to his rescue and he’d fuck you senseless all over again. it was a vicious cycle, and he planned on playing this game for as long as you were dumb enough to believe you mattered to him.

[marvelmusing]

Making Time

Mobius M Mobius x Reader

Part 1

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

A/N: Not sure if many people want this but I like the idea of working for the TVA & Mobius is kinda funny and charming. I really hope I don’t start to regret this once the rest of Loki comes out

Whilst all the desks at the TVA were practically identical in the impersonal corporate sense, Mobius’s desk was a lot nicer than yours. Having been at the TVA for longer than you, he’d gotten everything sorted into a comfortable space, whereas your desk was scattered with papers and mugs you’d always forgotten about. There’s a incessant knocking against wood nearby. Your head perks up from where you’ve been sorting through files on the floor beside Mobius’s chair. You spot Ravi, a fellow assistant, leaning over the top of the cubicle.

“Hey [Y/N].”

“Hi Ravi.” You reply, returning to your sorting.

“Where’s Mobius?”

“Erm, France, 1549.”

“There’s been a development in the Loki Variant case.” You nod,

“That’s why he’s in France.”

“This is a new development.” He hands a file to you, and you skim over it quickly. Laufeyson. Variant L1130, AKA Loki Laufeyson, is charged with sequence violation 7-20-89. You look up at him.

“Thanks, Ravi.” He smiles at you,

“No problem.” You stand up from the floor quickly. You pass through the TVA corridor’s before opening a Timedoor. You step into it, emerging in 16th Century France. Mobius is stood nearby, he looks up at you in surprise.

“Mobius. You might want to take a look at this.” You hand him the file. He looks over the front page, before nodding.

“Thank you, [Y/N].” He says, stepping forward, and placing a hand on your arm. “Let’s go, we need to hurry.” You both pass through the Timedoor.

You both rush through the corridors of the TVA. You skid to a stop at the reception desk, a smile brightening your face when you recognise the receptionist.

“Hey Casey!” He looks up at you in surprise.

“[Y/N], hi!”

“We’re in a bit of a rush. Has there been a variant brought in? Tall, dark hair, most likely carrying a sparkly, blue cube?” Casey picks up the Tesseract from a drawer beside him.

“This?”

“Yes! Where is he?”

“They just took him into the courtroom.” You both set off running, and you call out,

“Thank you, Casey!”

You open the door to the courtroom, and Mobius hurries inside, taking tentative steps so as to not draw attention to the the two of you. You follow closely behind him. He slides onto a bench, with you taking the seat beside him. You’re knees bump together slightly, but he pays it no mind as his focus remains on Renslayer.

“We're not here to talk about the Avengers.” She says, looking down at Loki.

“Oh, no?” He asks her.

“No.”

“What they did was supposed to happen. You escaping was not.” Loki laughs at this,

“Right. Not supposed to happen? According to whom?”

“The Time-Keepers?” She offers.

“Oh, the Time-Keepers. Right.” He scoffs. “Well, perhaps I should speak to these Time-Keepers, gods to gods.”

“I'm sorry, but they're quite busy.”

“Oh, they are? What are they doing?”

“Dictating the proper flow of time.”

“I see. Right. And then what do you do?”

“Dictate the proper flow of time according to their dictations. How do you plead?” You watch Loki as he smirks, holding his hands out.

“Guilty, of this.” He grasps his fists a few times, confusion clear in his actions.

“What’s going on?” Renslayer asks, looking for side to side.

“Hang on. Everyone quiet.” Loki reasons. Hunter B-15 laughs,

“He's trying to use his powers, ma'am.” He slams his hands down on the podium in front of him,

“Damn it! Why won’t it work?”

“Magic powers? They're no good in the TVA, Mr Laufeyson.” Renslayer tells him. “The court finds you guilty, and I sentence you to be reset. Next case, please!” She calls out, as is there’s a colossal queue waiting.

“Reset? What does that mean? What, is it bad? What does it mean? You ridiculous bureaucrats will not dictate how my story ends!” Loki exclaims hurriedly, as the Hunters surrounding him begin to drag him away.

“It's not your story, Mr Laufeyson. It never was.” She tells him in a bored tone, a little harshly you think.

“You have no idea what I'm capable of!”

“I think I might.” Mobius stands quickly, making his way past you. “Have an idea of what he's capable of.” He adds. Renslayer considers him for a moment,

“Approach the bench.” He steps forward, and you hear him offer a soft,

“Hi.”

“If you're thinking what I think you are, it's a bad idea.” She hisses.

“Okay, I'm just chasing a hunch.”

“Anything goes sideways, it's on you.”

“Okay. I feel like I'm always looking up to you. I like it. It's appropriate.” You roll your eyes at him, as you stand and take your place beside him. Loki continues to struggle against the hunters. He looks Mobius up and down.

“And who are you?”

“I’m going to burn this place to the ground.” You hear Loki growl.

“I'll show you where my desk is, you can start there.” Mobius remarks, and you can’t help but smirk. He glances at you, sending you a winking once your eyes meet. You roll your eyes at him again. Loki slows his walk, looking across the railing out into the TVA. You and Mobius stop to look at him.

“Have a look.” Mobius tells him, gesturing towards the view. Loki approaches the railing, staring out at the city in front of you.

“I thought there was no magic here.” Loki asks, a frown of confusion on his face.

“There isn't.” Mobius replies.

“That's not real.” Loki decides.

“It is, and, unfortunately, so is all the paperwork. Good tinder for your fire, though. Come on.”

“This place is a nightmare.”

“That's another department. Now that department I'll help you burn down.” You shake your head at him, smiling. The three of you step into the elevator. You stand on one side of Mobius, with Loki on the other. You press the button for the appropriate department. The faint tune of elevator music fills the temporary silence, before Mobius turns to Loki,

“I’m Agent Mobius, by the way.” He holds his hand out for Loki to shake. Loki looks down at his hand, with no plan to shake it at all. “This is my associate, Agent [Y/N].” You offer him a small smile with a nod, as his eyes briefly acknowledge your presence. You’ve always liked how Mobius refers to you as his associate, rather than assistant. Unlike the majority of the TVA. Loki turns his attention back to Mobius,

“Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?”

“No. That's where you just were. I'm taking you some place to talk.”

“I don't like to talk.” Loki lies.

“But you do like to lie, which you just did.”

“Because we both know you love to talk. Talkie-talkie.”

“How long have you been here?” Mobius sighs,

“I don't know. It's hard to say, time passes differently here in the TVA.” Loki frowns at this,

“What does that mean?”

“You'll catch up.” The elevator door opens and the three of you step out. You remain close to Mobius’s side, with Loki trailing behind.

“So, you're part of the TVA's courageous and dedicated workforce?”

“Yes.”

“You were created by the Time-Keepers.”

“Yep.”

“To protect the Sacred Timeline.” You hear the mocking tone in his voice. He’s not believing a word of this.

“Correct.” Loki laughs.

“Is that funny?” Mobius asks him, as he heads down the steps towards the door. You both look back at Loki as he exclaims,

“The idea that your little club decides the fate of trillions of people across all of existence at the behest of three space lizards, yes, it's funny. It's absurd.” Mobius considers him for a moment before saying,

“I thought you didn't like to talk.” He opens the door, gesturing to Loki. “After you.” Loki passes you and walks into the room.

“I’ll wait until you’re done.” You say, meeting Mobius’s gaze.

“You don’t have to.” He insists.

“I’ll wait.” You’ve caught Loki’s attention, his head turning to examine you after hearing your voice for the first time. You watch as Mobius walks into the room, and you close the door behind him.

You’re not stood for long before Hunter B-15 approaches. She attempts to brush past you. You hold your arm out,

“Mobius is in the middle of an interrogation.” You protest. “You can’t just interrupt.”

“Stand aside, Variant.” You clench your jaw, a prickle of fear in your chest as she pushes the door open.

“What are you doing?” She calls out to Mobius.

“My job. Is it yours to interrupt?” He replies. His eyes fall on you as you give him an apologetic look. He shrugs lightly in response.

“We have a situation.” She tells him. He sighs,

“There's always a situation.” He turns to Loki,

“Don't go anywhere. It was just getting good. Spirited.”

You hover by the door, as Mobius and B-15 head further along the corridor to talk. You hear the two of them bickering momentarily before Mobius returns.

“We’ve lost another unit.” He tells you. You sigh,

“Are we going to wrap this up then?” You ask, he nods as you open the door. He steps inside and you follow him as he calls out,

“Okay, Loki, I think we can finish up tomorrow and just pick it...” He trails off, and you look around for Loki. The room’s empty. You watch Mobius slip his hand into his pocket, before leaning his head back with a sigh, “Mischievous scamp.” You both rush outside, Mobius calling B-15 back.

“Wish I could say I was surprised.” She retorts.

“Yeah, I wish you hadn't interrupted us.” Mobius adds, annoyance lacing this tone. The two of you jog alongside the Hunters she’s gathered.

“Me? It's my fault?” She exclaims.

“He can't have gotten very far.” You reason, attempting to prevent an argument.

“Split up. Prune on sight.” She orders.

“No, no pruning, no resetting. He can still help us!” Mobius argues. Your group splits up. You wander through the corridors for awhile before deciding to return to the projection room. Once Loki realised he can’t get far he might decide to hide in there. Turns out, you’re right. Loki is perched on the steps at one side of the room. You glance as the projector, the bold ‘End of File’ standing out from the screen. He holds the Tesseract in one hand, the blue glow casting a shadow across his face.

“I’m guessing you know that won’t work here.” You say, keeping a safe distance between the two of you. He nods,

“Not through a lack of trying.” You sit down on the steps, glancing at him for a moment before staring at the wall.

“Did he give you the: your only purpose is a side character to develop other people on their path to greatness, speech?” He looks up at you sharply. You meet his gaze, “I suppose that’s a yes.” He nods. You sigh, “I know it sucks, but I have to admit it does put things in perspective.”

“Perspective?” You nod,

“That the only reason why you did the things you’ve done, is because it was meant to happen. Because the all knowing space lizards decided it. But you’re out of the timeline now, Loki. You can do whatever you want.” You watch as he considers your words. “That’s not me giving you the okay to kill me. Or Mobius, don’t kill him. Anyone else, I’m not too fussed.” You joke. A small smile flits across his face. “I’m going to call Mobius now, he’s the better option over B-15.” Loki nods, and you retreat outside the room. You pull out your phone and dial for Mobius,

“Mobius, I’ve found him. He’s back at the projection room.”

“Do not approach him, [Y/N]. Do you hear me? I’m on my way now.” You agree, and wait outside the door. Mobius rushes down the corridor, grasping hold of you. “Are you okay?” You nod,

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He pauses, checking you over for a moment, before nodding and opening the door to reveal Loki. You wait outside as they presumably have a heart to heart. It’s not long before Mobius is back by your side, with Loki in tow.

“Say hello to our newest team member.”

If you’d like to be tagged for this series just let me know!

[icanbeyourjedi-writes]

Dear Frankie Chapter Three

Summary:  It’s a trivia night to remember, some secrets are spilled. You learn more about Frankie with a little look into his past but does it change the feelings you have for him or the feelings he might be having for you. Words: 5320 Rating: 18+Explicit Warnings/Triggers for series: Frankie is active duty military, deployment, death, Adult language, themes, and SMUT A/N: So I don’t really know anything…ok I know nothing about Fayetteville, North Carolina.  I am taking my own liberties on what it’s like there.  Names of places may exist, but I have no idea if they are real or not as well as some of the events I have.  But its fan fiction and there are no rules.  While the reader may have some descriptions, I am doing my best to leave out physical characteristics. Just try to have a little imagination while you're reading this.

Indentations are journal entries//story is slightly beta’d

This story had come to be from that photo of Pedro in the white suit for the NYC premiere of Massive Talent. It made me think of an Angel, then talking with   @tauralmie​ kinda came up with this idea of a story where what if one deployment Frankie didn’t come home, and you had been dreaming of him so much, you see him wearing that white suit. That is how this little series was developed.  

**Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. **

Mom was right when it came to dating a serviceman, should I even call it dating? I mean we haven’t really made anything official. It is so much more difficult than I could ever imagine. It’s hard learning that I come second. It was something I didn’t fully understand until I met you. I could go days without hearing from you, even weeks where I didn’t see you. Dates became phone calls, and phone calls became text messages. It scared me to think of a time when those texts would become letters.

“Hello” you pick up the phone. Slightly out of breath, you had jumped out of the shower running to grab the phone when it started playing ‘magic man’ a tone you set for Frankie.

“Hermosa, are you ok? What’s wrong?” He asks his voice laced with concern

“I’m fine…I’m good…I was just in the shower; it’s good to hear your voice again” it was good to hear his voice and not a voicemail. You missed him and his calming tone. He doesn’t respond for a few moments “Frankie?”

“Hmmm…yeah. Hi” he chuckles “sorry, I was just thinking. What are you doing Thursday?”

“Hopefully seeing this cute army pilot I’m dating. What were you thinking about?”

Your heart starts to race when he tells you he was thinking about you, about the shower. He quickly stops himself before he gets into too much detail. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about him while you were in the shower. The things you’d want him to do to you. He asked if you were up to meeting some important people in his life. Your first thought was his family, which for someone who wanted to take it slow, meeting his family so soon was incredibly fast. Part of you was relieved when the important people were his friends. His brothers in arms, his roommates, his troop, his new family. You were excited, but these people were slightly more terrifying for some reason “…it’s trivia…” he says “…we need another teammate. It will be fun”

Sitting in your car, your mind thinking of so many scenarios. Things going right, and things going horribly wrong. You want to make a good impression. You know these guys are important, and you recall him saying that he had never felt comfortable enough to introduce someone to them. It’s a lot of pressure, you fill down the visor once again checking your makeup. You take a deep breath and finally open the car door. Making your way to the bar entrance.

Knowing that you don’t introduce your friends to a girl your seeing scared me.  I was terrified that I was the first and I wanted to make a good impression, and that is a lot of pressure.  I wanted them to like me, and I didn’t want you to regret this.

Down The Road, was a bar just outside of the base gates.  It was a veteran owned business.  You drove past the place every day and it was always busy, tonight was no different.  You step inside and look around trying to find Frankie in the crowded bar,  You scan the room again when you can sense him before you could see him.  Looking to your left you watch him take the final few steps to you.  Wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you into a hug.  A hug that only he could.  Placing a kiss on your cheek,”Hi Hermosa” he smiles, “so that cute pilot guy…”

“Hey Frankie” you smile wrapping your arms around his neck returning the hug “he looks better than I remember”

He slides his fingers into yours, interlocking them as he guides you towards a large round booth in the corner of the bar.  Three equally handsome men sit at the table, a beautiful brunette woman sitting next to a man with short dirty blonde hair and piercing steel blue eyes “Hermosa…the guys.  Guys…” he introduces you to the men.  Sitting in the middle the youngest of the men.  Same blonde hair just a little longer and a baby face…Benny you learn.  To his right was his was older the brother, the one with the blue eyes; Will.  Sitting next to Will was his girlfriend Chole. Frankie nods his head for you to slide into the booth

“You sure you want your girl to sit by Pope? Benny laughs

Pope…Santi…Santiago, he was indeed very handsome.  Dark brown hair, just a bit darker than Frankie’s.  Deep brown eyes, and a strong jaw that was covered with stubble.  He puts his arm on the back of the bench as you slide closer; “yeah, you sure about this Cat?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you giving you a devilish grin

“Cat?” You arch an eyebrow at him sliding into the booth next to you

“Catfish…” Will adds

“Well, you see Hermosa…I could tell you” he leans into you, his voice dropped an octave “but then I’d have to kill you” he whispers into your ear sending shivers down your spine and the hair on your arm stands on end

“He’s good at holding his breath…he doesn’t have to break for air when he goes doooooow” Benny starts

“When we do swimming exercises.  I’m like a catfish, I hang out at the bottom of the pool” Frankie quickly speaks.  You know it’s an inside joke.  His call-sign. It’s something you hope that one day he feels comfortable enough around you, to learn the real story.

“Six-nine brigade. Good to see you guys again. New member I see. Where’s Tom?” An older gentleman in a blue football jersey asks, you soon find out he was the host

“Planning a wedding with Molly” Will smiles wrapping his arm around Chole

The host makes small talk with the guys, and you lean into Frankie “six-nine brigade?” You asks trying to not laugh

“Benny’s idea” he shrugs “I come for the beer and frings. Also laughing at those dumbasses getting simple questions wrong”

45 minutes into it and the team is so far behind it would take a miracle for them to win. That miracle would be the group actually listening to Frankie. He would mutter the correct answers under his breath each time. Another round of beers come, and a basket of frings (onion rings and curly fries) is placed in front of Frankie who hands you an onion ring

“Where was the fortune cookie invented?” The host asks and Benny and Santi lean into the table

“San Francisco” you take a sip of beer, Frankie looks at you his eyes widen “what?”

He nods his head towards the group “say it again…louder”

“The answer is San Francisco…” you say say a little louder getting Will’s attention

“You sure?” He asks

“Yeeeeeah?” You reply “yes. Yeah it was on an episode of how it’s made. My dad and I watched it a few years ago” you swallow hard and feel your heartbeat getting faster now that all eyes are on you

“She’s right,” Frankie smiles “write it down, and if she’s wrong I’ll tell her what catfish really means”

You see Santi write down China, fold the paper in half and hand it to Chole before Benny had a chance to write down an answer. She takes the paper to the stand and you roll your eyes leaning back against the booth. You wanted to know the story behind Catfish, but not like this. A few minutes later the hosts begins reading teams answers

“Six-nine brigade. I’m sorry but that answer is incorrect” Frankie’s jaw drops turning to face you “the answer China is incorrect. San Francisco was the answer we were looking for”

“Benjamin!” Frankie growls

“Hey bro, don’t blame me” he holds up the paper saying San Francisco “Pope wrote that one”

Frankie rolls his eyes and leans back in the booth. Crossing his arms across his chest. Staring ahead, you could see the tension. His jaw clenched and starting to tick. You place a hand on his thigh that has been bouncing non-stop since the answer had been read. You lean into him, kissing his shoulder, then resting your chin on it. Close enough to his ear you can whisper “hey…you wanna get outta here?” and he nods quickly

Throwing some cash on the table, he gets up and puts his hand out for you to take. He intertwined his fingers with yours, “where are you going?” Will asks when the two of you turn towards the door

“Home. I’ll get a ride” Frankie says over his shoulder

“Oh I bet you will. You going to show her how Catfish was born?” Benny asks with a shit eating grin on his face

Frankie let’s go of your hand, turning back towards the table giving him and the rest of the guys the middle finger. You grab his wrist and gently tug on him, trying to get him to start walking.  He turns back to you, taking your hand and walking towards the door again, hearing Benny and Santi laughing as you leave. When you walk out the main doors, you pull your keys out of your bag “where to?” You ask heading towards the direction of your car.

The funny thing about friends, they know you better than you know yourself. Your friends, your brothers, they love you - they may have a strange way of showing it. But like Heather was, they are only looking out for you, and they want to make sure you picked a good one  

“Can I show you something?” He asks. The tone of his voice was serious and defeated. You got the feeling that the way his friends teased him was the reason he never introduced someone to them.

“Of course,” you toss the keys in the air and he reaches out to catch them, his reaction speed much like that of a cat who manages to land on their feet after a fall

Opening the door to your ‘94 Chevy Malibu, that was a graduation present.  Well, it was really a hand-me down.  It was honestly a POS but it still ran, and you were too poor to buy a new one.  He moves the seat back a little and adjusts the mirrors.  He slides the key into the ignition, “you trust me?” he asks.  His hand on the key waiting to turn it over

“Should I not?” you look at him.  A smile playing on your lips.  He turns the key ‘Don’t trust a hoe’ comes through your car speakers.  You swear you’ve never moved so fast to turn down the music, “sorry” you shake your head.  Embarrassed by the song that you just happened to be on

You look at Frankie, his left eyebrow arched, lips locked together holding back a smile, and that damn dimple on display.  You know he’s trying to hold back his laugh, and completely failing at it.  He tried so hard, but before he knew it, he was laughing at the impeccable timing of it all, “so you don’t trust me?”

“Just shut up and drive Morales” you shove him laughing.  His laugh is contagious and it was good to see him smile again

He pulled up to the entrance of Fort Bragg when a soldier peeks out the little box by the gate.  It was after hours for civilians and Frankie rolls down the window

“Hey Simmons, this is my…she’s my girl.  My friend…” he stutters “she’s just bringing me home” Frankie nods his head towards you.  Leaning forward you smile and wave at the young man who looked like he just turned 18

“Morales.  Good evening, I need an ID please.  We’ll do a quick run of the car, sorry but you know the drill” you reach into your bag, pulling out your wallet and handing your ID over to Frankie

A quick scan of your card, and a look at your car Frankie was pulling away from the gate.  Apologizing to you for having to go through all of that.  It wasn’t anything new for you, you would have to do that all the time when you visited your Dad.  It’s just been a while since you have been on a base.

“First concert?” you ask him.  It was something the two of you would do.  You made it a point to learn something new about each other each time you talked.  Tonights discussion music…

“Don’t laugh.  But it was a backstreet boys concert” he sighs, “it was for a girlfriend at the time. She was obsessed with that little one.  It was her birthday…and…”

“And you wanted to get laid?” you bit your lip, trying to hide your eye roll

“Maybe…but you know they actually weren’t that bad and but on a great show” there was a long pause “and no, I didn’t end up getting laid that night” it was like he could feel your intense look on him

You didn’t realize you were sitting with your arms crossed, in a defensive posture.  You know you shouldn’t be, but there was something in you that was jealous.  You know he’s probably not a virgin.  You were actually positive that he wasn’t, judging by his friends' talks, but you also wanted to know him in that way.  “And you?” his voice breaks your thoughts

“What?” you forget what you were talking about

“Concert…” he tries to smile, but he also knows you are judging him

“Hollywood Undead” you tell him.  Leaning forward you open the glove box and pull out a cassette adapter.  Plugging the one end into your phone and the tape side into your stereo.  You scroll through the phone finding the right song to play.  The static is soon replaced by a crow cawing in the distance and a voice coming to life, telling a story.  Frankie raises his eyebrows in confusion

“Is this a band?” he asks

“Shhhh…just wait” when the part of the rap that you know by heart starts “...I’m a baritone with a voice that's so low, it’ll make your speakers explode…you close you eyes and start to dance in your seat…drop your panties to the floor…you start to dance more with your hands…bend you over, lay you sideways, hop in the bed girl, its freaky Friday” you continue to rap along Frankie watching your every move “If you got beef, you better step up…”

You open your eyes feeling that the car has stopped moving.  Looking over to Frankie you take a deep breath and sing the chorus “I can show you how to hump, without making love…” you humm the last few words when you look the shock of awe and horror on his face

He hadn’t said a word since you started the rap.  You lean forward turning the music down, feeling very self-conscious of how he was looking at you.  “I don’t know if I should be scared, or impressed” he smiles

“It was my emo…I think I could rap phase” you return a shy smile.  You look out the window and the complete darkness that surrounds you, “Frankie…where are we?”

“My favorite place on the base.  Well second, here come with me…” he takes off his seatbelt.  Killing the bright lights of the car and stepping into the darkness

“Frankie…’ you say towards the closing door, “FRANKIE!!” you yell into the now empty car.  You watch at his outline walks in front of the car towards your door, opening the door “there’s nothing out here” you say

“Exactly,” he says, his hand waiting for you to take it.  You hesitate for a moment, “don’t worry, there’s no fish in the lake for you to swim with” he chuckles

You glare at him before taking his hand.  Your lips pressed together in a hard line.  “Oh come-on, that was funny” he says when you step out.  You can’t hold it in anymore and crack a smile

“Where are we?” you ask again

“Other then the hanger, this is my favorite place.  During the day we use it for water training.  But at night it’s one of the only places you can see the stars” still holding your hand he looks up to the sky

You follow his gaze uo, looking over the clear night sky.  You haven’t seen this many stars since you spent the weekend with your grandparents at their cabin in the mountains back home.  It brought back so many memories of spending time with your mom doing the same thing.  Sitting on the little porch swing, making a wish on the stars in the sky that your dad would come home.  Magically, a shooting star passes over head, “make a wish” you say

“To dance with a beautiful girl under the stars,” he looks at you.  A smile on his face and it could be the setting, it could be the night sky but you swear you could see a winkle in his eyes

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you nudge him with your shoulder

“Never meant it,” he says “till I met you”

I don’t know if you were just saying the words that you think I wanted to hear. I don’t know if you were just playing games with my heart, but Frankie if I wasn’t already falling in love with you…after tonight I would be.

“That phone of yours have anything slow to dance to?”

“You dance?”

“I know a few steps” he bites his lower lip

“I might have something,” you turn opening the door and grabbing your phone from the cup holder. Scrolling through the library you find a song that might work. Turning the volume up as loud as it would go,

You push play and set the phone on the roof.

Turning back towards Frankie the opening melody of ‘Open Arms’ by Journey fills the space you. “This works,” he puts his hand out towards you. When you take it, he moves your hand and places it on his shoulder, he interlaces fingers with your free hand and places the other on your waist.

🎶Laying beside you, here in the dark. Feeling your heartbeat close to mine🎶 he pulls you closer. Your hand moving to the nape of his neck, his hand moving from your waist to your lower back 🎶we sailed on together, we drifted apart🎶 the two of you sway to the music. Moving your hand from his neck up to his cheek, cupping his face. Pulling him in for a kiss. A slow, tender kiss marching the melody of the music. He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, your thumb brushing along his cheek. Butting your bottom lip, staring into his eyes seeing a future with him

“Estrella,” he sighs softly his warm breath against your face

I don’t know why, but knowing I wasn’t the first girl you brought there hurt. I won’t lie, I am jealous of your past relationships. I know I shouldn’t, I know you have past. We all have one. I know I won’t be your first, but I am hoping to be your last. Frankie, it scares me how fast I am falling for you

“What?” you pull back.  Your fingertips rubbing the back of his neck

“It means star” he says

“No, no.  I know what it means, but why are you saying that?” you eyes roam over his face

“You are a star…in my night sky, and I like it better then TJ” he shrugs “Mi Estrellita, it sounds better”

You grin and nod your head, “Frankie…I looooooov” two headlights towards your left and you have to turn your head from the bright lights

The trucks engine is killed, Frankie lets go of you quickly and turns towards the light seeing the truck door open and a man jumping out.  The door slams closed and you flinch reaching for Frankie’s hand.  An older gentleman walks towards the two of you, “Private Morales.  What have I told you about being out here after dark?” the man's voice is deep and authoritative.

“Officer Powers…” Frankie stands up straight before saluting the man.  You stand up a little straighter too, “good evening Sir”

“At ease soldier” he says “Ma’am…” he looks at you tilting his head and smiles

“Yes, sorry Sir.  This is my friend.  My girl, my lady friend” Frankie’s nerves getting to him again, he’s rubbing the back of his neck.  “She’s my girlfriend?” the inflection on friend had it sounding more like a question then it he intended

“Hi…”you introduce yourself to Officer Powers “We’ll be on our way.  Sorry Sir, Frankie…I mean Private Morales was just showing me his favorite place”

“Oh yes, it is his favorite place, he is here or the hanger.  But you know the rules, Morales.  You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here” he tells the two of you.  Letting go of Frankie’s hand you take a few steps towards your car.  Frankie turning to follow before the officer calls his name

“Yes Sir?” he stops and turns back towards Officer Powers

“Why does her last name sound familiar?”

“Her Dad was a SEAL”

“Ahhh. Yes, I have heard of the legendary TUNA…I was unaware he had a daughter” Frankie turns his head and starts to walk back to you.  He extends his arm, wrapping it around you heading back to the car

Frankie tells the officer good-night, “Hey Morales…one more thing!” Frankie stops and twists his head back to look, “be sure to wrap it up” Officer Powers winks

“Yes, sir” he swallows hard rubbing the back of his neck.  The officer makes his way back to his truck.  He moves his hand from your waist and shove it in his pocket for the last few steps.  He looks at the ground, kicking a small rock while you open your car door.  He doesn’t say anything as you get in and he makes his way to the drives side door.

The night wasn’t what I had expected.  I don’t know what I was expecting, but dancing in the moonlight by a lake and getting caught in a storm wasn’t on the list.

The car ride back to his place was silent, his lips pressed together in a hard line.  This time the silence was awkward.  The soft raindrops is the only sound as he continues to drive home.  He had a feeling you were upset at what the officer had said.  Frankie wasn’t being completely honest, but he wasn’t lying either.  You weren’t mad, you were confused.  He pulls up to a red brick house.  A single family, two-story house with a large wrap around porch with two trucks parked outside.  You recognize one of them as Frankie’s.  He turns the car off but leaves the keys in the ignition.

“I’m sorry” he scratches his cheek, avoiding eye contact

“How many?” you ask, the words sounding a bit harsher then you had intended.  Officer Powers had mentioned seeing Frankie there before with other girls.  You pick at the hangnail on your finger

“Two…” he pauses “but I was telling you the truth” it was taking everything in him to not reach for you.  “I’ve never danced under the stars with a beautiful girl” you turn to look at him “...and you are a light in my ever growing darkness.  I like you, and it kinda…no actually, it fucking terrifies me.  I don’t want to move to fast and ruin things”

“Frankie, I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t a little bit jealous.  Knowing that you have taken other girls there before, and you’ve probably told them the same things.  Even telling them that you love them.  I just wish I was the first, but the thing is, I really like you too” the rain starting to pick up

“Would you believe me, if I told you I’ve never said those words to someone before.  Even in the heat of the moment, they’ve never been spoken” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear.  “When I say it, I want to mean it”

‘When I say it, I want to mean it’ you have no idea how many times I’ve replayed those words in my head.  When you told me you’ve never said those three words, I had a hard time believing you at first.  But then I saw the way your hands were shaking.  The tone of your voice, I could hear the nervousness.  It had been a rollercoaster of a night.  But there was something that happened in that moment, I knew I wanted to help you be able to say those three words

You nod your head, a crash of thunder filling the night air and shaking the car.  You can’t help the little jump you had

“You want to come in? You can wait out the storm.  I’d feel safer knowing where you are and not driving home in this” the rain pounding on the roof

“Ok” you nod your head

He pulls the keys out of the ignition.  Adjusting the cap on his head, he looks behind you judging how soaked the two of you are about to get. He lifts his hips just a bit to reach into his pocket and get the house keys.  “On three, run to the door” he kills the lights on your car and puts his hand on the handle prepared to open the door.  Shaking your head yes you look towards the front door, you also judging the distance for yourself. “One…Two…Three” you hear him count

On three the two of you open the doors and start to run towards the covered porch.  Frankie’s slightly longer legs have him passing you in a few steps.  He reaches the steps before you not realizing you had stopped a few feet before the porch.  Water dripping from the bill of his cap he turns to see you spinning in a circle.  The rain soaking you to the core and your shirt clings to your body.  He puts his hands on his hips, in a way that reminds you of a disappointed father, “what are you doing?!?!” he yells over the rain

“Would you believe me, if I told you I’ve never been kissed in the rain…” you stop spinning and you can’t help smile at the ‘dad-stance’

He shakes his head, and walks down the three steps.  Closing the distance in seconds.  His hand cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss.  You close your eyes as his lips find yours.  He licks the seam of your lips, dipping his tongue inside and your hands find his waist.  He moves his hands to wrap you in his arms, pulling you closer, his warmth enveloping you.  You wrap your arms around his waist, sliding under his open flannel shirt. You don’t know if it’s the cold rain, the way he’s holding you, or if it's the way he is kissing you but a shiver is send down your spine.

Frankie pouring his heart into the kiss, you know you’re falling for him and by the way he’s kissing you, you can only hope that he is feeling the same.  He pulls away, and quickly pecks your lips, once…twice…three times before smiling

“I’m glad I was the one to change that” he says pulling you into him.  Your head resting on his shoulder, “now let’s get you inside and warmed up” you nod your head against his chest and he kisses your head

He opens the door and steps inside, you following close behind. The living room is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the TV at the end of the room. You can make out the blonde locks of one of the heads “hey Fish, how’d the night go? You show her what a caaaaaaaaat…” he turns to see you standing next to him “oh hey there”

“Ben…” Frankie sounds a little annoyed “my rooms upstairs. First door on the right, the bathroom in my room is towards the right, there’s extra towels under the sink. Get warm, and you can wait out the storm there” he kisses you gently on the temple “I’ll be up in a few minutes”

You nod and head towards the stairs, telling Benny goodnight as you do. You stop on the stairs when you hear his voice, “bro…shut the fuck up about the name already. I’m going to tell her. I just need…” his words grow quieter the further you ascend up the stairs. You reach the top and take a few steps to the first closed door on the right. You place your hand on the door knob and pause before you turn it and push it open. You had his permission to walk in, he told you to go in…but something just felt wrong. It felt as if it was an invasion of privacy without him being there with you

You know people say how you keep your room says a lot about you. And Frankie, your room was so organized, minimal if I dare to say. There were pictures of your Mom and your Grandparents. A few of your friends from when you were a kid, and your brothers in arms. An impressive DVD collection and there was something I wasn’t expecting. You had a mini library, it wasn’t that I didn’t think you read, I just didn’t think you read that much.  

Your hand still hovering over the door, you turn to look down the stairs waiting for Frankie when the door behind you opens “oh hey there TJ what are you doing?”

“Estrellita, why…” he stops when he sees Santi who has the biggest grin on his face “Pope…” he makes it to the top of the stairs, opening the door for you. Frankie’s room is organized like a showroom, you could tell he was very detailed oriented. Not a thing out of place. He had a small sofa, and a TV in the corner. A large bookcase and a smaller one next to it full of DVDs. A king-sized bed under a window, a photo on his nightstand. A younger him with his Grandpa by a plane. Frankie wearing a leather jacket 3-sizes too big and a pair of goggles.

“Le diré, pero no abora (I’ll tell her, just not now)” you hear his faint voice

You find yourself standing in front of the bookcases, his library has everything from thriller novels such as Fahrenheit 451 and The Great Gatsby to romance novels. And not just any kind of romance novels, the kind that you find at the find at the supermarket for $5 in a metal cart.

You pick up one of the books reading the title The Lost D you read the title to yourself and shake your head reading the back of the book. You can sense his presence before you see him, “quite a collection you have…” you turn towards him, “didn’t take you as a romance guy”

“It uhm…it can…it can get uhhh…” he looks down at the book in your hand and he rubs the back of his neck, “it can get lonely sometimes” he tries to avoid your gaze before moving to his dresser, a few photos sitting on the top. Opening the top drawer, he pulls out some clothes.  “Here’s a shirt and some boxers you can borrow. Sorry if they don’t fit”

They are folded nearly as he hands them to you, “it’s ok…it looks like it stopped raining” you look out the window

“You shouldn’t be driving home…it’s late and I don’t like the idea of you driving home alone” he bites the inside of his cheek, watching you look out the window before you look at him “I’d really like it, if you stayed”

“Ok…” you smile holding his clothes to your chest

“Ok”

[ilove-cedricdiggory]

I love you, mum

Remus Lupin x Reader

Requested - Noppe

Summary - Remus Lupin was the love of your life, right? You thought so, that was, until he came home from an order mission finding you pregnant and hating it with his entire being. Can you handle that?

Trigger Warning - cursing, mentions of abortion, mentions of pregnancy, rude as hell Remus.

This one is kinda lengthy, so, fairwarning. I'ma make it a series, so, Part 1!

There he stood, right before you, his bag packed as your eyes watered. "I know 'm love, but you know how the order is. I don't get to pick when I go." He took you into his arms, his hand immediately running through your hair.

You both were 24 now, honestly surprised with the way time had flown by even with the pending war surrounding you. He, James, and Sirius were going to investigate a lead, one that involved the fourth member of their family from Hogwarts, Peter.

The night Peter was trusted with James, Lily, and Harry's lives, Voldemort had shown up, prepared to murder them in cold blood. The only thing stopping him that night was that you, Remus, and Sirius paid a surprise visit to your favorite new family, wanting Harry to experience a Halloween as normal as you all could make it.

Harry had been zooming through on his broom in his Kinmare Kestrels costume, the five of you cheering him on as if he was in the middle of a quidditch game himself. Voldemort had made himself known quite quickly, assuming the three of them were on their own, but was met with a small army, prepared to protect your family.

Now, Remus was leaving to go find Peter, along with looking into how deep his dedicated now lied with the monster attempting to rule your world.

"I'm going to be back before you know it. I'll be nice and safe, and I'll be home after this months turn, so we won't even have to worry about that when I come home." You nodded, but teared up at that.

"But, who'll patch you up and kiss all your bruises?" You asked softly, pushing back some of his hair to gaze into his eyes. "'M sure James and Sirius will be more than happy to help me out like they used to, although I don't think either will kiss the bruises - not that I'd want them to." He grimaced at the thought of one of his two best friends kissing each healing wound on his skin after a horrible night of turning.

"Just, come back safe, okay? Don't do anything stupid, don't let Sirius talk you into doing something irrational, don't let James cry too much about Lily and Harry either, please. I can't even imagine how they're doing. Just come back safe to me." You kissed him softly, pulling him closer to your body, only wrapped in a robe, holding him as close to you as you could.

"Of course sweets. You be safe too, go see Lily and Harry, go see Molly and the kids, don't stay cooped up in here missing me. I'm sure Molly would love to bake with you and I'm sure Lily would be more than happy to eat at much as she can, especially now that we all know she's pregnant again." He laughed softly, kissing your forehead.

"Okay, okay, go, before I lock you in the house and break your wand so you can't leave." He chuckled, wiping a few stray tears from your face as he kissed you one last time before moving to leave the comfort of the home the two of you built together.

Five minutes without him had you sobbing and feeling empty.

Six days without him had you throwing up.

Two weeks without him had you taking a pregnancy test.

Two weeks and three minutes without him had you sobbing as the plus sign on the test.

Three weeks without him had you hiding it from your best friend.

Four weeks without him had you looking for the baggiest of his sweaters and wishing he would finally come home.

Five weeks without him had you shaking in fear, fear of your growing stomach and fear of the second turn he would be fulfilling away from home.

Six weeks without him had you going to the appointment without him, without anyone knowing.

Six weeks and two days without him had you sobbing.

Six weeks, two days, and thirty four minutes had you screaming in joy as you wrapped your arms and legs around his warm hold, clutching onto him with dear life.

"Remus John Lupin!" You yelled, tears falling harder as you felt the worries of him being dead in a hole left your shoulders.

"Oh my sweet love, I've got you, yeah? I've finally got you." He whispered. Your arms were tight on his frame, holding him like you were afraid this was a dream, for him to fade away and leave you once more.

He had walked you to your bed, sitting on it with you set in his arms, his nose sniffing your hair, letting your scent calm him and moony. "Oh my girl, I've missed you so much." He whispered, your tears finally slowing. "I've missed you, bubs." You whispered, your eyes meeting his to press your lips upon his, holding his face close to yours.

Silence filled the room, his hands wandering your skin, making sure each inch of it was the same as he remembered. He didn't falter, until his hands slipped under his sweater, feeling the bump under his hands.

"The fuck?" He whispered, pulling away from you. "What's going on?" He asked you, his eyes sharp on your own.

"Um." You said, your head falling and you stared at your hands. "'M pregnant, Moons." You whispered, moving off of his lap to lift up the warm fabric, showing him your bump. "Twins." You said softly, looking up into his eyes.

"You're joking." He said, his voice void of emotion, it staying the same pitch with each syllable.

"Does it look like I'm joking? You're staring at the bump. I haven't told anyone, waiting for you to get home." You were waiting for a smile to break out on his face, for his eyes to light up, for him to wrap you in his arms once more and spin you and gently as he could before bending down and kissing your belly once - twice - three times.

But, it didn't happen.

Two minutes after he knew had you silent.

Three minutes after he knew had you shuffling back from foot to foot.

Four minutes after he knew had your eyes welling up with tears.

Five minutes after he knew had you breaking the silence, your voice louder than expected.

"Say something, Rem!" You yelled, flinching at the sound of your own tone.

"I - uh." He said, one of his hands moving down his face to attempt to shake the shock from it. "No." He said after another moment, standing up and moving across the room.

"No, we aren't having a kid, let alone two! No!" He paced back and forth, shaking his head. "No way. We're gonna have to figure something else out." He spoke, stopping to think, his face pointing up at the sky. "I'm sure there's something we can do to fix this." He said, finally turning to look at you.

"Fix this? There is nothing to fix, you prick!" You yelled, tears falling once more, but for a much different reason. "I'm fucking pregnant, this isn't something you fix!"

His eyes grew angry, glaring at you like never before. "You know how I feel about having kids! No!" He shouted, his tone matching yours.

"Fuck you." You whispered, shaking your head. You picked your wand up from your bedside table, flicking it once before a suitcase appeared and clothes began filling into it.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice monotoned once more.

"Leaving." You spoke the word, shivering at the idea of it. But, once the bag was packed, your hand wrapped around it's handle, you quickly turned on your heel, unsure of apparating out of the flat while pregnant.

"Where are you going?" His voice was slightly softer now, the actions of the moment catching up to him.

Before exiting the place you called home, more so, leaving the person you called home, you whispered. "I dunno."

Your wand was held out, summoning the Knight Bus, letting you onto it and paying the fee before looking at the man before you.

"Where to?" He asked, his left eyebrow raised at you.

You didn't think you could go to Lily and James, not wanting to face Lily's wrath towards Remus along with her hurt for not knowing about your pregnancy. You couldn't turn to Sirius, knowing he would hate his best friend in a way you could never want for the man you loved.

"The burrow, please."

The bus took you there after dropping off the two people before you, assisting you with your bag to the front door before disappearing.

Your hand shook as you knocked, but heard the pitter patter of the feet of her many children before a yell from the woman herself. "I don't know who's at the door! Charlie can you please change Ginny!"

The door flung open, revealing the woman to you. "Oh! Y/n!" She spoke, her face breaking out into a warm, wonderful smile before letting you in. "I haven't seen you for a little while, I was about to send an owl your way." She said, leading you into the home and back into the kitchen where the smell of Mince Pies filled your nose.

"'M sorry, Molly. A lots happened."

With tears in your eyes, you stood before Molly, the woman you saw as your own mother. The woman who celebrated with you when Remus asked you out. The woman who held you when you cried after your first argument with the man. The woman you had planned to tell about your pregnancy, but feeling your heart break each day you waited to tell her.

You had it all planned out. You were going to show up with Remus, once he found out and the two of you celebrated, wearing a sweater that covered your bump - much like the one you still wore. You would be holding two bags, one for each of the parents you loved so much, with a shirt for them both with the words "first time grandparent" on it.

But now, you had to tell this woman that you had kept your pregnancy from her for this long, your spouse had practically told you to get rid of the babies, and that you had left him.

"Molly, I'm pregnant." You whispered, pulling his sweater up to show the adamant bump. "And Remus wants me to get rid of them, so I left him." Your voice was breaking, shaking, and terrified of what you were to do now.

Her eyes filled with tears of her own, her arms wrapping around your frame and holding you to her. Molly Weasley: Best Hugs. She held you for a minute, letting your sobs fall from your body, holding your shaking frame. Once you calmed down as much as she thought you would, she sat you down on the kitchen chairs.

"Oh, sweet girl. I'm so sorry." Her wand flicked, bringing you a warm cup of tea before she settled in the seat beside you. "You're more than welcome to stay here. We can move Charlie in with Bill and you can take his room. You know you're more than welcome to." Her voice was soft and sincere, looking at you with the look you wished your fiance had looked at you with. Her hand reached to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear before moving it down to press softly against your growing stomach.

"Molly, you know I can't do that. I wouldn't want to put Charlie out of his room. Plus, I'm going to be getting bigger and eating more soon, I don't want to be in the way." You explained, watching as she shook her head. "In no way would you be in the way. Plus, I'd love to be here with you through this!" She exclaimed, taking your hand in hers.

"Honestly, Molly, I don't want him to find me." You admitted softly, your heart hurting at the truth. You hated how he had talked to you, how easily it was for him to suggest he "took care of it". It hurt you to your core. He was the man you thought would stand beside you through everything. Through the fears of financial trouble, through the happiness of your own home, through your pregnancy. But now, you were all alone. Your soul felt cold, the warmth he provided now long gone, leaving a feeling as cold as the harshest winter in it's place.

"Oh, honey, I understand." She said softly, nodding.

After another minute or two with the wonderful woman, you looked at her. "Molly, could I use some parchment and a quill? And your owl? I wanna write to Lily." You said softly, hating to intrude, but knowing that with one person told, that would soon turn into two, then 9, then everyone else you could imagine.

"Of course love! Of course! Bill, bring me some parchment and a quill please, y/n needs it!"

Bill soon came in, hanging you the items you requested before rushing back outside to play with his siblings. "You can go sit in the living room and write, okay?" She pushed back your hair, smiling at you before allowing you to walk off, going to write a letter for James and Lily, along with one for Sirius.

Your hand was shaking as you pondered what to write to your best friends. How do you explain that you're pregnant with their best friend's kids, that he doesn't want them, and that you've left him, all in the same day that they got home?

You set your fears aside and wrote to your best friends, letting everything out that you could.

Dear Lily and James

I'm so glad you're safe, James, I was so incredibly worried. I'm so happy you're back home with Lily and Harry.

You guys might be wondering why I'm not using our owl, that's actually what I was writing you about. I left Remus. Before you're freaking out and such, I'm also pregnant. He wanted me to "take care of it". His words, not mine.

It's twins. I don't know the genders yet, but I'm 6 weeks along. Absolutely huge though. That's a lie, I just feel huge. I can still wear one of his sweaters to cover the bump. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, Lils. I wanted to wait until Rem got home and us be able to tell you both together. Don't worry, I'm writing Sirius about it too.

I don't know where I'm gonna stay, if I'm being honest with you. I'm at Molly's right now, but I'm not staying long. I'm not staying at yours either - especially not with you pregnant too Lily, and with Harry. I can't do that to you guys. Plus, like I told Molly, I don't want Remus to know where I am.

I know that might seem wrong, but he wants me to get rid of them. I can't ever do that. They are apart of me, apart of us both. I'm growing these two precious beings that are half of us and full of our love - well, my love. How am I supposed to look him in the eyes and see him hate me as I grow our kids.

I'll write you both after I'm settled somewhere, but this will be my only letter until then. I love you both so, so much. Give Harry a kiss from me.

You folded the letter up and wrote one quite similar to Sirius before tying them to Errol and sending him off to your three best friends.

You stood and waddled back to find Molly with Fred and George outside, scolding them for attempting to get Ron to fly on their broom and hit the Bludger before it hit him.

"This is what I have to look forward to, huh?" You asked, a light smile on your face.

"Oh yeah, they're twice the trouble." She laughed, smiling. Fred and George smiled at that, proud to have caused Mischief in their family. "But they give you twice the love." She spoke, watching as they ran off while their mother was distracted.

The two off you walked towards the house once more, talking. "Did you decide what you want to do?" She asked finally, looking at you.

"I'm going to the states. I have some family there that I want to go visit, one with a guest house that I can stay in. I owled to them when I sent Lily and James one." You stood before her, tears welling up.

"You better come see me all the time still, send me pictures of you growing. Send me the address so we can come see you, especially in America! Don't let me go without seeing you growing my grandbabies." You nodded, wrapping her up in your hold.

"I won't, I swear. I'll send you so many owls, you're gonna think I am living with you." She kissed your temple, holding your cheeks.

"Okay, I put your bag upstairs in Bill's room, just as a precaution. Do you want me to go get it or-" she was cut off with a frantic knock, the hits not stopping.

"I'll go get it, that sounds urgent." You both laughed softly, your swollen feet carrying you up the stairs and to Bill's room, grabbing your suitcase before heading down the stairs.

"Molly, where is she. I just want to see her." You heard Lily speak, her voice hurried.

"Sirius, let me go! She's in there, I know she is!" Remus yelled, his voice carrying up the stairs.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." You mumbled, looking around the stairs for some kind of hidden passage. It's a wizard and witch house, how is there not a hidden passage?" You reached for your wand, your eyes squeezing shut as you realized you set it down to write to your friends.

"Stop it! All four of you!" Molly yelled, her voice sharp. "There is a woman in my home who is pregnant and does not need this kind of stress. Now, I will ask her if and who she would like to see."

While she was speaking, you creeped down the rest of the stairs and slipped into the living room, grasping your wand.

"Worse than my own kids, I swear." You heard her mumble before walking towards the living room. "Y/n, dear? I'm sure you've heard them by now but the boys and Lily -" she cut herself off, her eyes finding you holding your wand and suitcase, your eyes welled up with tears and your lip between your teeth.

"I love you, Mum." You whispered, before clutching your belly in protection with your arm holding your suitcase, apparating from the warm home.

[bonnyskies]

come back to me [epilogue] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairing — husband!jungkook x malereader

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warnings — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 2.6k

author’s note — this is officially the end :)

masterlist

Two years have passed since your anniversary, and nothing could be better.

Life was great, and you mean it this time. The feeling of waking up every morning and being in Jungkook’s arms created a warmth inside your chest that you never wanted to go away—and it seemed he felt the same way.

“Good morning,” you heard Jungkook whisper against the back of your neck, his voice low and raspy.

“Good morning,” you whispered back, feeling your heart flutter at the feeling of his arms tightening around your waist and placing kisses along your bare shoulder. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

Jungkook smiled against your smooth skin, moving his hand that was resting on your waist up your stomach, fingers dancing gently across your abdomen. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

“So what do you want to do today?” You ask, shuffling around so that you were now facing him, chest against chest, face against face. “We can have a picnic at the park together—you know, the one with that brand new jungle gym and the rope pyramid?”

“That sounds great,” Jungkook agrees while sliding his hands up and down your bare back and pressing tender kisses along your collarbone. “We can go to that deli restaurant across the street from the park and order that meat combo plate we got last time.”

“Yeah, we can!” You instantly nodded vigorously, already feeling your mouth watering at thought of the meal.

“Alright great,” Jungkook shot up from the bed, and you couldn’t help but blush at the sight of the many dark bruises and bright red scratch marks you left on him as he slid a pair of sweatpants and shirt on. “I’ll about go get the kids ready, you call the deli and order the food, okay?

You nodded your head, also getting out of bed and slipping on some clothes—and yes, kids, as in plural.

A week after your anniversary two years ago, Yeonha went into labor and gave birth to a baby girl, and you’re not lying when you say that she is splitting image of Jungkook. Anybody with eyes can easily tell that she is his daughter. They both share many characteristics, like hair and eye color, and they both have the same bunny smile that makes your heart skip a beat when seeing it.

You hate to admit it, but at first you thought it would be awkward when meeting her, especially since she is the child of your husband and his ex-girlfriend, but it wasn’t. You can’t lie and say your heart didn’t flutter when seeing her for the first time when Jungkook brought her into the house, in his arms, sound asleep—and the sight of that made you want another baby if you were being honest, but of course you couldn’t say anything, not when he just had one.

And as for Yeonha, sadly she’s still in your life. Jungkook and her have shared custody over Mina, so that means you have to see her at least twice a week when they meet with each other to get Mina from one another. But luckily you don’t have to speak to her at least.

Again, life was perfect now.

“Minho, make sure to watch your sister!” Jungkook shouts, watching with concern as the two kids sprinted excitedly to the playground.

“They’re fine, Jungkook. See,” you pointed at Minho who was currently helping Mina onto the swings before pushing her gently back and forth. “Now,” you then unwrapped the meat combo plate you got from the deli and handed Jungkook a slider and a can of strawberry soda. “Let’s enjoy our anniversary, okay?”

“Best anniversary ever,” Jungkook teased, clinging your two soda cans together and pecking your lips softly before taking a small sip.

The two of you then began to dig into the food, taking fairly large bites into the small sandwiches. “This is delicious,” you spoke with a full mouth, “We haven’t had this in like—forever.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees, taking another bite of his sandwich. “It’s been what—two months since we’ve been there, and it’s still delicious as ever.” He then glances over at you, lips curling up at the sight of your ketchup stained mouth and full cheeks. Even now, he thought you were the most beautiful, most handsome man his eyes have ever laid on. “I love you.”

His words were sudden, surprising you and making you stare at him with wide eyes and a full mouth. “W-What?”

Jungkook chuckled at your shocked reaction before repeating, “I love you, and I’m sorry that we can’t have a normal anniversary with just each other, alone.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize, darling.” You were quick to reassure him by placing your hand on his bicep and giving it a firm squeeze. “It’s your weekend with Mina and I’m okay with that, you know I love her like my own.”

Your words warmed Jungkook’s heart. You were right, you do love Mina as if she is your own child and that makes him so happy.

When Mina was born Jungkook was afraid that you two would start to drift apart again. Because after all, you were helping raise your husband’s child that wasn’t yours, and that can make things complicated.

But you proved him wrong.

The moment Mina became a part of your life you treated as if she was your own without any doubt, and that made Jungkook’s heart swell. He can’t tell how many times he has woken up and found his daughter in the kitchen with you, handing you the ingredients and helping you cook breakfast.

Jungkook thought there was no way he could love you anymore than how much he does now, but he was wrong. As he stood by the stairway, watching you two bond he could feel his heart triple in size inside his chest. You are definitely someone he doesn’t deserve to call his husband.

“You’re the best,” came out of his mouth faster than his mind could comprehend it. You simply shook your head, attempting to dismiss the topic but he continued. “No seriously, you’re the best husband anyone could ever have. Anyone else in your position would’ve left and never turned back but you chose to stay, and I can’t think of a way to show you how grateful I am.”

“I can’t think of a way either,” you agreed with him, smirking as you leaned over and brushed your lips against his teasingly. “It might take me the rest of my life to think of something. Do you mind waiting for that long?”

When hearing the teasing tone of your voice, he then said, “I don’t mind one bit,” before pressing his lips firmly against yours, the kiss being short yet passionate.

The rest of the day was like this, you and Jungkook being in the each other’s embrace, watching both Mina and Minho play together at the playground. It was peaceful, and calm. The four of you stayed at the park until nighttime, where the sun was starting to set and the moon was beginning to come out.

When going home, you were expecting to have a family movie night or something similar like that, because every weekend when you two have Mina it always comes to that—not that you were complaining because you loved family nights. But you definitely weren’t expecting to hear Jungkook say to the two kids to pack their bags and that they are going to stay with your mother tonight.

“W-What are you doing?” You ask the moment you enter the house, Minho and Mina sprinting up stairs to do exactly what their dad told them to. “It’s your weekend with Mina, I told you that I’m okay with spending our anniversary like this—”

“But I’m not,” Jungkook cut you off, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you to his chest. “You deserve the best. And don’t worry, one night won’t hurt—and it’s a three day weekend so I get Mina an extra day.”

You were hesitant at first, but when he started to leave tender kisses along your neck, making you become weak in the knees you couldn’t help but cave in, a hint of blush forming on your cheeks. “Okay, fine.”

“You don’t sound so excited to have the night to ourselves,” Jungkook muttered inside your neck, placing even more kisses down to your slightly exposed collarbone. “You know, it’s been almost a month since we have had time to ourselves—”

“Appa.” The sound of Mina’s loud, cheerful voice caused you and Jungkook to instantly separate, turning to see the two-year-old girl and Minho sprinting down the stairs with their backpacks on. “We’re ready.”

Jungkook licked his lips, trying to hide the swollen signs of them. “well, I’ll go take them to your eomeoni and be right right back, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled back at him, pecking him on the lips and giving both Mina and Minho a kiss on their forehead. “Have fun you two, love you and behave.”

“Love you too appa,” they both shouted out, running past Jungkook as he opened the door for them and went straight towards the car.

Just as you were about to close the door, Jungkook kept it open with his foot in between the gap. His last words to you before leaving left you stunned and utterly speechless.

“You better be prepped and ready by the time I come home, baby boy.”

Jungkook couldn’t deny how stunning you were, even while you laid right beside him, both of you completely bare, sweat glistening off your bodies and chest heaving up and down, trying to regain your breath.

He can’t remember that last time you two have went this hard. It’s been half an hour since you two both have reached your release and he could still see you trembling underneath him, feel you clawing at his back and tears of pleasure shining in your eyes as he thrusted deeply into you. The sight was breathtaking.

“This thirty-three year old still got it,” Jungkook spoke up in a raspy voice, making you chuckle as you shifted your body onto your side to face him, running your hand up and down his bare torso.

“Yes you do,” you grinned up at him, leaning down and placing a couple tender kisses along his exposed, sharp collarbone.

A peaceful silence then consumed the bedroom. The two of you enjoyed the calm atmosphere that succumbed you both, savoring this moment since you two haven’t had any time for yourselves ever since the day Mina was born—not that any of you were complaining because she is a gem no doubt, it was just you two are a married couple and still would like to have time for yourselves every once in a while.

You could slowly feel yourself slip into slumber, but Jungkook’s next words made your eyes shoot wide open, nearly bulging out of your head.

“Let’s have another baby.”

“W-What,” you sat up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard and stared down at him. “Have you completely lost your mind? We already have two kids.”

“I know,” Jungkook copied your same position. “But I don’t know, I really want another kid, don’t you?”

“Of course I do—” you tried to say but then he cut you off, continuing.

“Then why can’t we? We both are in a perfect place in our lives,” smiling widely, Jungkook took your hands into his and squeezed them tightly. “You just got a promotion so you now work from home, and BTS is over, we finished our last tour last month so that means I’m going to be home now more than ever. Come on, let’s have another baby, please?”

You remained silent, and when Jungkook noticed your hesitation a frown formed on his lips. “If you don’t want another kid then that’s okay with me, I’m just wondering if you want one as well.”

Your heart clenched when seeing his downed expression, your thumbs immediately caressing the back of his hands comfortingly. “Jungkook, it’s not that I don’t want another kid because I do, but Mina is only two-years-old, don’t you think it is kind of early?”

Jungkook shook his head instantly, “No, I don’t. We always talked about having a big family, and now that we’re both in a comfortable place in our life, what’s a greater time than now?”

His words brought a large smile on your face. “Then let’s have another baby.”

“Really?” Jungkook stared at you with wide eyes, mouth gaped open.

“Yes really,” you quickly nodded, and next thing you knew you felt Jungkook’s lips crashing onto yours, moving his body so that he was now hovering you, hands moving down to your thighs and pulling you flushed against his body.

You couldn’t but moan against his lips when you felt his hands begin grope your ass, squeezing the flesh of your skin. “You do remember I’m a man, right? So that means I can’t get pregnant,” you teased, pulling away from his lips to stare at him.

Jungkook’s lips curled up into a smirk and whispered, “doesn’t mean we can’t try,” before bringing his mouth back down onto yours.

The night was again filled with the sound of your moans, Jungkook’s groans, and his skin slapping against yours.

And when morning, the first thing you did was call the same adoption agency that Minho came from and now, the two of you were officially added onto the list.

Life may be perfect now, but it was only going to get even more better from here on out.

BONUS:

“Alright Ms. Lee, I’m going to need you to push one more time and the baby should come out,” the male doctor that sat in front of you and Jungkook stated.

The woman that was laying on the hospital bed had tears in her eyes as she nodded her head, releasing a loud cry before doing exactly what the doctor said. And soon, the sound of a baby’s cries filled the delivery room.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor says, handing the baby boy to one of the nurses so that they could clean him up.

“Thank you so much, A-yeong.” You grasped onto the woman’s hand, bowing your head gratefully and at same time Jungkook also asks, “How are feeling?”

“Really tired,” the woman answered, skin shining with sweat and chest heaving up and down from exhaustion.

“Well you only have little time to rest before we have to go again,” the doctor spoke up again, “The second baby should coming out any second now.”

You and Jungkook both froze, “S-Second baby? We were informed that there will be only one.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” the doctor shrugged his shoulders. “On the record it says, Lee A-yeong, female, age thirty-one, having twins.”

You turned to Jungkook, eyes wide but shining with excitement. “We’re having twins,” you said, voice trembling out of happiness.

“We’re having twins,” Jungkook repeated your words, sharing the same joyful expression as you before leaning down capturing your lips into a sweet, passionate kiss.

Soon, another baby’s cries could be heard, making you two separate. Your eyes then met the baby’s ones, making your heart flutter inside. “This one is a girl.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook gasped, hand over his mouth out of shock. “We have another baby girl.”

After the nurses cleaned both babies, they each handed you and Jungkook one. “So, have you two thought about any names?”

“Well, I’m thinking of naming the girl A-yeong,” you suggested, glancing at Jungkook for his opinion while delicately running the tip of your index finger along the baby girl’s chubby cheek.

“I like it,” Jungkook agrees.

A-yeong smiles and bows her head thankfully. “Thank you for naming her after me.” She then asks, “what about about the boy?”

“How about Junghyun?” Jungkook says, rocking the baby boy in his arms gently back and forth.

You instantly nodded your head, “Yeah, it’s cute—definitely suits him.”

“Hello there little ones,” Jungkook gets closer to you so that he can see the baby girl, A-yeong asleep in your arms. “Damn, they’re so precious.”

“Hey, watch your language,” you scolded him, “we’ve got babies right here.”

Jungkook chuckled and pecked your forehead. “Welcome to the world, Jeon A-yeong and Jeon Junghyun.”

Life may be perfect? No, life is perfect.

the series is officially over, i’d like to thank everyone who has supported me throughout this entire series. i love you all so much, there’s no way i could’ve been able to finish this without you guys.

TAGLIST:

@xworldwidecutieguyx, @yoongis-soulmate, @jikookvfans, @heartfeltscribblings, @blazedprince, @btsfaris, @sonderkook, @angel-moni, @http-je0n, @magic-fox-555, @moonfairyjoon, @taozibun1, @ephemeralkookie, @thesquiglybumblebee, @httpjazel, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @dreamer95, @singabon-roll, @shaybeans, @fancykoos, @galaxyeyedjungkook, @nlnkm, @you-need-namjesus, @teuteusstuff, @moon-asia, @julia-pacheco-blog, @0minabean0, @pjmislovely​, @polly-wifu, @jinsonaz, @unsolvetheheckoutofit, @multihoneyfairy, @xavi-in-kpopland, @daydreamerblues, @kurochan3

[jadelynlace]

NSFW Prompts / Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU Request [Ivar x F!Reader]

full series is here

request by: @quantumlocked310 

author’s note: you can find the complete NSFW prompt list here, and you can find the request by the love of my life, I mean @quantumlocked310 here. also, see if you can spot my new favorite HC for this series!

content warnings: we’re taking another trip (no, not in our favorite rocket ship), back to before these two dumb asses were out to everyone. even though, everyone basically knew it. this is mostly just sweet fluff, like you’ll need an insulin shot.

prompt: “to skinny dip with my muse”

synopsis: a weekend retreat proves to you how much Ivar is already devoted.

~

“Ivar went up to the lake house for the weekend, he said ‘for inspiration’ but I’m sure it to fuck,” Ubbe said. 

“Oh, I bet Y/N went up there too!” Hvitserk laughed. “I’ll have to text her, see what her excuse is.”

“I wonder how much longer they’re going to hide it from us, they’re practically a couple anyways.” Ubbe groaned, tossing the popcorn through the air to land on his tongue.

“Do you know how hard it is not to turn to her in the ambulance and just go “so how big is my little brother’s dick, Y/N’?” Hvitserk said. “I just want to see the look on her face before she kills me.”

“Probably the same as yours,” Ubbe started. “You two are fraternal twins after all.”

“Thanks, Ubbe, not a thought I wanted to think.” Hvitserk groaned.

The drive isn’t very long, low hum to the playlist in the mustang, your reflection in the glass as you tell Ivar about the week’s worth of calls, detail by ever loving disgusting detail. And not once does he stop you, not once does he grimace or groan, he tells you to keep going and he asks you questions about such as you blabber to him. The sun had just set as the gravel road takes to the tires, crunching as the engine slowed, rolling around the bend of the driveway and parking next to the cabin. You’re silent as you gaze at the view, pure water with the rays of diminishing sun and the breeze blows an immediate calmness through your whole body. 

Dotting the sky with a speckle of tiny lights, when night finally crept over, you two had taken to the blanket on the small patch of grass that lead to the dock. Cobble stone path in between you and the shore line as you rested your head across Ivar’s chest. Steady beating of his heart in your ears while his hands never stopped their small strokes over your shoulders, tracing your spine, but going no lower, no dirtier than he was known for. Almost as if he was trying to gauge your time together with something other than the tangles of sheets and the moans, and you gladly accepted this side of Ivar. The peaceful, relaxed side.

“Those three dots are—”

“The summer triangle,” Ivar answers. “And those, make up Sagittarius,” He adds, pulling you closer to him as the summer air laps at bare skin. 

“What about that one?” You ask, pointing your finger back at the sky. 

“That’s Libra—kinda like you,” Ivar answers through a breath of clouds as he chuckles before pulling your hand back down as he places a peck over you knuckles. 

“I’m not a Libra, actually, I’m a—”

“I meant the air sign part,” Ivar snorts. “You have strong intellect and a good mind,” He adds, taking his finger down the bridge of your nose. Your face wrinkles into a smile as your own eyes sparkle in the moon light, rivaling the great sky before you two. 

“I didn’t know you knew about constellations,” You whisper. 

“My mother used to bring me outside at night when I couldn’t sleep and she would show me the stars, and tell me the tales about each one. Sometimes I made myself stay awake just to hear her talk,” Ivar hums, turn of his lips against your forehead.

“You think I have a good mind?” You whisper, curling back up against him, inhaling the scent of his cologne from his neck line and he only hums as you nuzzle closer. “Not a dirty one?”

“I never said good can’t mean dirty,” Ivar laughs, bringing and arm out to his side to crack his elbow, popping it with a snap before curling it back around you. “Did you tell Hvitserk what you were doing this weekend?”

“No, I don’t always have to talk to him, goof ball. And he doesn’t always need to know what I’m doing, even if it’s you.” And Ivar only snorts.

“I didn’t just bring you out here for sex,”

“Oh, you’re going to kill me? Great, thank you.”

“I can’t spend time with you, without my dick being inside of you?” Ivar asks and there was a tone in his question that warranted a serious answer, like he was baring his soul and opening it before you in the night sky.

“You can, Ivar. I really like it actually,” You answer, pushing yourself up and pecking the corner of his mouth. His eyes are closed as you do so, and he fears if he opens them you’re not going to be there—it’ll all have been a dream and he’s asleep in his bed in his flat, cold and alone and sad. But they finally peel apart and catch the moon light, glimmering and lightening and you lean down to kiss his mouth, only to pull back up so you can look at him. “Your eyes are really blue…” You hum.

“I let my Dad know that you said that,” Ivar teases, cheeky smirk and you only giggle, lean back down to peck his mouth a final time but his hand stops you. Holding your head near his as his mouth takes on a war against yours, a low vibration through Ivar’s chest as he kisses you, and you can feel it from where your hand is stationed. You’re moved slowly, pushed back along the blanket and Ivar is over you, holding his weight on his forearms as his lips move with yours. It’s a slow dance they take to, a waltz that’s not hurried like most of his kisses have been. He’s savoring you now, enjoying the hours with just you and no worry for the moment you two might be caught by someone. And Ivar realizes this is what he likes more—most of all so far, between the two of you, the hidden times alone where he can enjoy you, savor you and worship you like the Goddess you are.

Your nails rake against his neck as he settles between your bent knees, nose squishing against yours and you moan as one of his hands takes on a journey down your curves. Supple touches and soft strokes from his fingerprints gracing you, touching you like a prized relic he wants to admire. Ivar’s mouth finally pulls back enough as he rests his forehead against yours, and when you open your eyes to peek up, his are still closed and there’s a soft smile on his swollen lips.

“Do you want to go swimming?” He asks suddenly.

“Yes, I love the thought of whatever is lurking in those waters having a chance to touch me.” You say back.

“I’ll hold you,” Ivar starts, moving away. “It’ll be fine trust me,” And he’s pulling you up to sit, peeling his own shirt off and then taking yours with you and you can’t help but laugh as he moves. Fingers unhooking your bra and his lips trace your shoulder blades as he works.

“Ivar—no—not fucking naked!” You squeak as he lifts you up.

“I can throw you in?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” You hiss as he wraps you in his arms. “I will give you blue balls for the next six months,”

“Noted,” Ivar chuckles, bare feet slipping into the shore line and you shriek quietly as the water graces the backs of your thighs, chilling the heated skin and your arms are wrapped around Ivar for dear life.

“We’re not having sex in the lake,” You mumble against him and he nods, lets out a fake whine and you laugh as you feel his hands swarm your back. “And you’re going to cut your feet on the rocks,”

“Would you stop worrying for thirty seconds?” Ivar asks you, his hands dipping into the lake before he lets the water trickle down your back.

“My record is twenty, but I can try,” You answer, lips on his neck as the same wet hands start against the ends of your hair, easing you into the lake as you shiver against him slightly. “Feels nice,” You whisper and he hums as you take your own hand and drip water over his shoulder.

“Thanks for coming up with me,” Ivar says to you suddenly and you move your head away to look at him when he talks.

“Of course, Ivar,” You smile back and he can still see it, even in the darkness of the evening as you push your mouth against his gently. His hands skim your thighs, around the swell of your ass and take to your hips. You hum against him as his hands roam, sending butterflies through you. “We’re still not having sex in the lake,”

“I’ll be quick,” Ivar tries.

“As suppose to what?” You tease and Ivar scoffs. His noise makes you laugh and there’s water splashed in your face a second later; small waves you’re eager to give back before laughter rings between the two of you. “I’m only teasing, you know that I like it.” You giggle and you sag against him as he relaxes beneath the water. 

“I like it too,” Is all Ivar replies as you two stay still, relishing in each others company as the lake moves around your bodies. You know Ivar’s caught feelings, it’s so evident in how he’s holding you, how he’s being around you, and you keep you mouth closed under tight lock and key, and simply enjoy the moment. Because you know that you’ve caught them too.

Ink Drinker Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk  @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @queen-sarang   @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @walkxthexmoon  @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @istorkyou @victoria-styles @quantumlocked310 @xbellaxcarolinax @mighty-ragnarssons @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @queen-of-upshur @nanahachikyuu @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @ivarhoegh @a5hl3y5ibley  @hashimily @youbloodymadgenius @love-all-things-writing  @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon @tgrrose @synnersaint

*please message me to let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. specifications for series/etc. are also welcomed, as well as feedback.*

full masterlist can be found here.