#but the responses earlier really made me realize how likely the trauma started so much earlier than I thought + just bc i had “accepted” it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

naffeclipse · 2 years ago

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Ok, finally I can sit down and write this!! XD

Ahhh, what a chapter! Lots of new info, a new routine is starting to set in, and we had a bit of a surprise there at the end!!

So first off, we have that slow testing of the waters that is now a little more hopeful and I love it! So much of this chapter had me smiling widely and made my heart melt at so many points!

Like, first of all how the hunter teases the boys for "showing off" hehe! And it got me thinking! Because it never quite occurred to me how much they must have been holding back physically! Obviously they were careful not to exhibit any obviously demonic features, but the fact is that they never really went beyond what an animatronic their size should have been capable of. Always kept at a speed that seemed possible for their form when y/n was paying attention. never did anything that seemed far out of their reach. And when those things must have been so easy if they could have just done it, I bet it got at least a bit tiring hiding what comes naturally for them. It must be so freeing to be able to truly be themselves now! And of course, if they get the chance to show off a little in order to impress their heart haha!

And Oh. My gosh. The moment when Moon was startled by the crossbow! It caught my attention because aside from losing y/n (physically or metaphorically), the boys have not really shown fear. They themselves admit it's not something they tend to feel. They're always on the lookout and not easily taken by surprise, but they could have encountered at least a couple hunters before the one in the cornfield. They know what happens during an exorcism so there must be some instinctual fear when it comes to a hunter's weapons. But even more than that, I wonder if this is similar to y/n's fear of them growing bored and deciding to kill them in the future. But the boys may have imagined worse scenarios in which the hunter decides they actually are a danger and decides to take them by surprise, an attack when they least expect it. Even if they don't truly believe something like that will happen (and they could likely tell because of the heartbeat), the thoughts might have lingered and the sound of the unhooked crossbow put them on edge. (And in some way, that does confirm to y/n that they do consider them a strong person. They have seen them slay other cryptids, after all. So just what would it look like if the hunter, unhindered by the panic and the trauma that came from a demonic encountered, decided to play the long game to hunt them)

But then! Then when y/n realizes what exactly is happening they use the same words that Eclipse used to calm them!! And God if that isn’t such a neat little reversal of the dynamic so far. A promise that despite being someone that could hurt them the must, they will not. And it’s also a way to show the boys they accept their earlier reassurances. Trust is barely building, but Eclipse has repeated “You are safe” as basically a plea. To give them a chance. To beg y/n not to reject them. To try and not to be the source of their distress. And now the hunter is sincerely using those words back. As an apology and a promise. As reassurance. It’s like a direct response to the times the boys said it and I love it so much!

And ooooo we get a conversation about the doppelgänger! Oh I can just imagine now, what their point of view must have been a couple of chapters ago. Before the reveal, the cryptid’s words were just an inconceivable (at least when in denial) lie and its dying scream just a way to hurt and mock them. But then it turned into a reality. How close the expression it mimicked must have looked to reality. The brief chase through the gully an eternity as every hope they had of this working out fine seemed to be disintegrating. And even when the worst had passed, the next whole day they just had no certainty that they would be allowed to stay at all. None of them are happy that the doppelgänger was right about how the reveal would go, but as y/n affirms, that was then and now is now. At the very least, it’s yet another way in which the hunter can see Sun and Moon’s more complex being.

(sidenote: Moon then not even shifting when y/n handles the holy water!! He believes them! They’re safe and the water in the in their heart’s hands presents no more danger to them than the unloaded crossbow! That’s just giving me so many feelings! ;w; )

Oh ho! We also get some more info about the sacred rules! I have some theories about Paahlott but at this point they’re pretty vague for what we know XD I have to wonder how she was able to summon them and why they all agreed to the sacred rules. Maybe their views were all already aligned with what she proposed, since other demons like Shoh seem to hold no fondness for the innocence of children. The defenders of the sacred rules at least seem to rather enjoy and care for the little ones on their own accord, rather than just protecting them with indifference! Lots to think about! Oh and also, it’s so sweet how the boys talk about their family and how they are already considering who would love y/n immediately. It’s such a needed pinch of domesticity sprinkled over the wild last couple of days!

I am also so here for the reflections the hunter makes as they see their true form once again! Knowing that there is good to be witnessed among cryptids, but also knowing that means the sadism is so much worse from those that chose it. Because now it’s not a belief that cryptids are merely mindless and driven by instinct like animals. Some might be, but demons certainly aren’t. So it gives much more significance to both acts of kindness and malice.

And ooooooh that vow and the saltshaker comes up again! In the very next sense in fact! I’m just trying to think of what possible scenarios the hunter might find themselves in to consider breaking the vow. Maybe during an attack the only way to protect themselves would be a salt circle. Maybe, there would be no likely way to perform an exorcism without affecting the boys so y/n keeps them at bay and tries to do it themselves so that they can save Vanessa without risk of losing the boys, even if it places the hunter at great risk themselves. Hmmmm!

And DFKGHSKLÑ the almost kiss though!! Boys please! XD I know they are very eager but gotta slow down a bit there kjdhgfjh And it’s a bit funny but it makes a lot of sense y/n isn’t ready yet, because, even with all the demonic cryptid situation, they have very literally spent a lot of time alone before they met the boys. I bet they didn’t really try for a serious relationship after the incident of their past, and with the animatronic friend it probably didn’t cross their mind as a possibility so far (maybe it would have eventually, but it wasn’t happening soon XD) Now everything is out in the open, Sun and Moon basically confessed to them right after the reveal and the realization that they already have been living together and know and care for each other so much is hitting them in the face all of a sudden! It’s familiar but new, just like everything about the situation, so I can’t blame them for panicking a little haha! Like, that’s a whole kiss!

But aaaahhh then it leads to such a show of trust! ;o; Eclipse says “You are scared” and so the hunter does what absolutely shows that’s not the case. This is the heart eating demon. The one that caused them nightmares after they saw him destroying the rake and consuming its heart. And they show them. They might not realize it, just meaning to get them to listen more closely and tell them that it’s excitement, not fear, but it’s still very much placing all the sharp bits of this demon so close to them. The sharp grin right up to their chest. And knowing fully that they will not be harmed. The boys will not try to rip their heart out. They are allowed close. Closer than anyone else. Because the hunter wants and trusts them to be.

But ough then the pain of knowing what happened to Henry! ;O; He thought he was dealing with Bonnie! No doubt the others had spoken about him! So there must not be actual info about him in the book. I wonder if it was written before the cornfield demon found him. Or if maybe in the book there is research that could be helpful, although it could be misleading if it was lying all along. And oof, of course, that would bring back some doubts. The fate of Henry’s daughter was decided because he trusted the wrong demon. Who’s to say another couldn’t do the same? And ah, it aches but it’s actually a good instinct for y/n to keep it in mind. They are deciding to trust, but not blindly. They already did that and it brought a lot of pain, even if it also brought a lot of good. Now they are considering all the evidence, which tells them the boys are sincere, but they won’t let themselves fall into denial. That’s something their heart probably couldn’t take if they ended up being wrong after all.

And then we continue with Vanessa! Oh these GPS marks have me so intrigued. Is she asking for help and the demon interfering? Is the demon setting a trap? What in the world does it mean! Hmmmm. Aaaah, I’m so worried about her! Not only is she suffering a lot, but what Eclipse said about exorcisms doesn’t bode well for her. As a hunter she must have a lot of strength and will to live, but it must be very tough to remain strong after the sheer amount of time she has been possessed. She must be incredibly tired D: Hhhhhhh knowing how Deep Dreams ends reassures me a little but oooough I can’t help but think it would be just as likely a scenario that she doesn’t make it. And how sad it would be. For y/n, who has been fretting over her, having to do what they must to vanish the demon, but in doing so sealing their friend’s fate. AAAAA the suspense!

But that’s just something you are great at, Naff! You always keep us on our toes! X3

And talking about keeping us on our toes! Oh I just knew those three strangers were not just gonna be passingly mentioned but I didn’t expect FEI to suddenly decide they were actually gonna do something about this! I have so many questions about this organization. Surely, if they are affiliated to the Pizzaplex and knew of both the demon and the vessel (maybe even the makers of the vessel), then it wouldn’t have taken so long to confirm right? The hunters certainly knew what to look for. So why? Were they using y/n as a test for the boys? Were they expecting the demon to kill them and when that didn’t happen they sent someone to take care of it? Just what is their deal?

And oh my gosh when I say that as soon as the female hunter started talking I immediately thought of Cafaro XD And then I gasped and pointed at her name when it came up gñklfjhsgñhj Like hello! Glad to see you! Time to get punched again! Okay bye! You are so lucky that in this life y/n is not a vigilante ready to stab your heart, but a very kind, life-treasuring soul! (Though they do both have a knife when fighting her which is a fun coincidence XD)

(side note (wow only 2 sidenotes this comment kdfhjg) : also very interested in that seal! I know y/n threw it to the ground, but maybe if they find out what it is, it could be used to force the demon into a vessel different then Vanessa, if they can lure it out! Then use that to exorcize it!)

Ok, ok, last thing I wanted to comment on was Singh! Aaahhh it was a bit bittersweet hearing him talk. The fact that he was so genuine about it. He so desperately wanted to save y/n and was trying to be reassuring. Like, he doesn’t blame them from the start. And even if he doesn’t listen, he pays attention. He notices the hand on y/n’s shoulder and assumes it means they are not free to speak. But also he does not miss the way in which Sun is protective of them, although he doesn’t stop to consider it as the others keep pressing the matter. Then when he is holding the hunter, he keeps trying to tell them that they don’t have to be scared anymore! Because they might be resisting out of the fear of retaliation from the demon! Or just because they’re confused because of the possession! And then, when he’s the only one conscious, and he sees them getting away he pleads with the demon! To just let them go and not hurt them. That they don’t have to do this! And wow, of course that would resonate with y/n. We hear similar words in the vampire episode. The hunter wanted to free someone else from their perceived suffering. Pleading to let them help. Help them stop them from hurting others. It’s pure kindness. If it was hatred or fear he might have let them just go without bringing attention to himself and risk the demon’s wrath. But he chose what he had as a last attempt of what he thought was the right thing to do.

And then, when there is no reason for the cryptid to pretend, he hears them ask their question. And he doesn’t know the meaning of it. This is another reality that will accompany the hunter if they let Eclipse stay. Allowing this means losing their source of income (even if they are already well off), and the organization that facilitates their job. What they have been all this time will become 10 times harder. So the boys ask again if they are sure. And y/n does not hesitate. And Singh’s world has been tilted. He might soon deny what he heard as a trick, but the doubt has probably been planted! He’ll be left to think about it all. Three hunters faced off against a demon and though the demon won, none of them are dead after all.

I… got a lot of feelings for this side character that reminds us slightly of the hunter huh? kfdjhglskdjfg

But well, that’s all I have for now! Awesome chapter like always, Naff! I am so, so excited for what comes next and I just know it’s gonna have me clutching my heart! <3

Chaotik, I've been rereading this over and over and I'm not normal about your thoughts at all aldsfjalsdfasfd

Oh yeah, the boys get to behave more like themselves now that Y/N knows! It's a weight off of their shoulders and one less stress to worry about. Also, Y/N likes it!

"So just what would it look like if the hunter, unhindered by the panic and the trauma that came from a demonic encountered, decided to play the long game to hunt them)" <<< The boys have seen Y/N slay cryptids, monsters, and it would break their non-existent heart to see Y/N with that set look, committed to the hunt, focused on them.

AHH YESSS! I'm so happy you took note of how much that means to the boys to hear Y/N say "You're safe." It's such a fundamental moment because, yeah, that's exactly what the boys said to them, but now, it's from them. They mean it. It's true. They're all safe!!!

The doppelganger was a ghost haunting Eclipse for all that time, but now that the worst has passed and Y/N affirms that it might have gotten one little detail right, it never told them about this. About things being okay. And they are okay ♥

Oh ho, I'm glad you like Paahlott and the little lore drops! You're right that the demonic cryptids who agreed to the sacred rules already held affection for little ones. It was for their kindness that Paahlott summoned them. Likewise, Eclipse always had a tender spot for children, and the sacred rules were a simple thing to bind themselves to.

Yes, some cryptids have sentient were others are more mindless/animal-like, but demonic cryptids are a special case, and noting that they can choose good and evil (relatively for cryptids) is another blow for Y/N and their past trauma. The cornfield demon really is a special kind of cruel, but to balance that out, there's Eclipse, who's a very special kind of caring.

I am eyeing your theories on the vow and saltshaker so hard rn hehehe

Ahahah, yup, this is very new for Y/N, and sudden. There's a reason Y/N was pretty obvious to a robot kissing their injuries better. Y/N wanted to show their own love and trust and very real, reciprocated feelings. Y/N is feeling a lot, but it's not fear for their dear friend.

"That’s something their heart probably couldn’t take if they ended up being wrong after all." <<< Keep that in your back pocket for later :)

Ahhhh, thank you, babe! I know I've been teasing Vanessa for so long now, but we're gonna see her soon. Real soon.

About F.E.I.—They knew Y/N was traveling with a demonic cryptid for a long time. Another thing about F.E.I. is that they don't tell their employees everything. That's why the three hunters were so concerned/angry about Y/N.

Ahahha, I love your reaction to Cafaro! She's a fan-favorite (very punchable alsdjflasdf)

Oh ho, that's the last time that seal appears hehe

Ah, babe, I'm so happy you like Singh! He was really important to write for this scene. A lot of cryptid hunters are in Y/N's same boat of experiencing cryptid-related trauma, and most do it for good reasons, even Cafaro and Rowe despite their rough demeanor in that situation. They're people. Good people. Singh was truly concerned for Y/N and to hear that maybe Y/N isn't in danger after all, around a demonic cryptid, changed everything.

There are going to be consequences with F.E.I., unfortunately, but Y/N has chosen Eclipse.

Ahhh, thank you, babe! I always look forward to your comments! They bring me so much joy! ♥

#*smooch ya on the head*#chaotikanvas #cryptid sightings #cryptid sightings spoilers

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skruffie · 4 months ago

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earlier I was talking about creative burnout with Kaz and how I've been stuck in this for years at this point, and it manifests sometimes even when I'm trying to sit down and write and not just draw. I'm trying to write, decided to try to jog my memory on PTSD because what I wanted to write about was a very traumatized character of mine, and found the blog post I made thinking about my time in state government + creative burnout and trauma.

So I'm like, well, I do probably need a therapist. Bounced around on psychology today to look at therapist profiles, started to get that sorta imposter syndrome of well the job wasn't actually traumatic though, and then thought

well, wasn't it?

I'm writing, but I decided to go back in time and write about the whole job experience! Where I've paused is somewhere in 2020 where I'm realizing the period of April 2020 to like... July is blank for me, and most of 2021 is too. I'm detailing these things about how the stress had such an immediate impact on my physical health, or how I was dismissed about how the job was making my insomnia worse, dismissed about the workload, not to mention the fucking RA process for my adhd

My boss in my current job will sorta joke, but it's not really a joke, about my job PTSD because she gets it. She truly does. I'm resistant to calling the government job traumatic but the physiological response it had in my body and how I'm still dealing with the aftermath years later is making me like... you know

rethink that

EDIT: adding another anecdote about my current boss when we last joked about this. I think I said something to the effect of "yeah, the trauma I have from having too much of a workload??" and she was like "dude. yeah." in complete seriousness

#do i add this in my ptsd tag #sure why not #ptsd #'too much of a workload' does not accurately describe it by the way #because yes that's what it was but it was so much more than that

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jalebi-weds-bluetooth · 2 years ago

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Hey JWB!

Hope you are doing good!

I really wanted to know your opinion regarding Arnav's character development in the show! (I'm unaware if you've answered this earlier)

We all know that Arnav's childhood trauma made him truly Harsh & Ruthless, But then khushi comes into his life, and slowly his character growth starts taking place, I do believe that love can definitely have a tranformative effect on a person, However, love is not a magic cure-all and it's not a substitute for a professional help and personal growth, it's important to seek out a professional help! Also i have seen people becoming harsh in real life due to trauma and depression, but it takes a lot of professional help so that they can heal, I know ipk is set in a fictional world, but still there are many people in real life who are dealing with traumas just like Arnav, So it will be quite unrealistic for such people if they watch Arnav's character growth and start believing that one day they are going to have someone who can heal them completely, instead of seeking professional help, Because the fact is love is not a magic cure-all, That's why i feel like they should've shown Arnav seeking professional help along with Khushi's love, That would have made much more sense! What are your instance regarding this? Please let me know!

Hello Anon!

I am very good thank you :) I believe Arnav was one of the best written characters in the show and the most consistent. He does not change because of love, rather Khushi grows closer to him and is able to see his softer sides.

Arnav still has PTSD trauma from his parents' suicide after Khushi coming into his life - he even tells Khushi that slowly the more he fell for her, the lesser time he had to dwell on his trauma.

So in a way his loneliness went away but finding someone he loved. But you can see how his trauma ended up creating very damaged relationships, especially romantic ones.

Arnav doesn't heal because of Khushi, he gets better over time with his own effort.

The only time he actually is able to overcome his trauma is when he faces his grandma and realizes the fact of what happened. His father was a weak person. He hates his family. And Khushi tells him no matter how bitter the past was, it's still a part of his history that he needs to keep.

And what I love about the show is that Arnav's past still haunts him. Otherwise even after marrying the love of his life, he spends the start of his wedding night nearly crying in his arms about the whole debacle.

His past is written very humanely. He's able to live, love and laugh regardless. Just with a better support system he's able to smile more and more every single day. So they never present Khushi as a fix-all for his sadness, but as a companion with whom he starts sharing pieces of his life with.

Also Indian media RARELY shows mental health help. Especially back in 2012, expecting mainstream show to show psychiatry is rare. Especially on a channel that's very traditional (Star Plus). And I think given that they did an excellent job with Arnav and his mental health. I like to think he went to therapy sometime later in his life.

Idk if you watched the Rewind but whatever little pieces of Arnav narrating his own life sounds like someone who has been to therapy. He recognizes his irrational anger, is calmer, understands Khushi was legitimately wrong in situations but also recognizes how his response to her mistakes outweighed everything else.

He's less resistant to showing vulnerability, in fact he's open about the fact that he loves his wife, idiosyncrasies included.

And to me, that means a lot :)

Best,

Jalebi (you might want to check the navigation link)

#ask #anon #about arnav

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whenthechickencry · 1 year ago

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Umineko EP4. Replay Part 7

I am crying at this scene of course, but I think the reasons why for that are obvious so I kind of want to focus on Beatrice's words here. Battler was merely the thing that started the cogs of fate, *one* of the causes, for people that think "Oh you got forgotten and that's why you kill people that just doesn't make sense" The game is, from the start of this plot point, being clear that is not in fact the case. Btw, Battler describing this as some stupid sin is fucking heartbreaking.

I fucking can't my heart is crushed yet again

Aaaaan Battler deals with this by calling Beato a moody, unstable bitch, aahhh Battler....

The word "responsibility" must be incredibly harsh to hear here, where is Battler's responsibility for his sin?

This is Beatrice attacking Battler's identity as comeback for what he did, of course. Ange knowing already is kind of interesting, I think it's stated later that after 1986 everyone knew, but you get your first taste of that here.

Battler can say this, ofc, but he's too busy having a mental breakdown to notice, lol.

list of people who lied to people's faces in the games spotted.

It's kind of interesting to see how Kasumi's words exactly mirror what Ange was saying earlier in the chapter and face her with vitriol, of course Kasumi deserves it for what she's doing to Ange but, they both had the life they intended for themselves suddenly taken from them and became unable to build a new life.

Again, it's hard to not see Ange's harsh criticism as harsh criticisms of herself, too. She literally started this journey to take out her trauma on Eva and make her into the culprit.

Ange starts noticing the similarities herself, too!

Ange's 101 course on understanding Umineko's themes!

I don't really think you can push the blame to a literal 6-year-old like this, though. The responsibility of this obviously lends itself towards Eva, but I can understand Ange is introspecting and trying to come to terms with her abuse here.

Ange has come a long way into understanding people she dislikes, I think what caused her to kind of revert in ep8 is also the fact Rudolf and Kyrie are people she *liked*. I think she still struggles with understanding people as having both good and bad and idolizes part of them and demonizes other parts.

I had forgotten this scene but as soon as they mentioned the magic to be friends with Mama and i remembered where they were going I became so sad aaaaa this scene kind of hard to read too. Especially once you think how many people expressed these kinds of sentiments to Maria....

This scene doesn't really shy away from its brutality, which I think makes it strong one. Dropping a slur might seem excessive but that *is* the sentiment expressed by real people towards people with autism in reality. The fact it isn't scared of showing that makes it stronger and more real, to me.

It is really, really funny that Ange's example of white magic is uh magical murder of a bunch of people. Asakusa is the one doing it, but.

Oh, I forget she even drops character at the end, lmfao. And then Ange fucking dies.

As much as Ange might have grown here, she still thinks her life is fundamentally broken and not worth living without her family coming back, to the point of destroying Beatrice for that purpose. Bernkastel is enabling her by telling her only worlds of isolation exist.

Beatrice is so fucking destroyed by now.... her voice is so sad. The way she desperately needs *someone* to be satisfied with her even if its a 9 year old.

This scene is so fucking good and I would struggle to describe it with just the chat log so I took the video.... the way Ange's sprite changes to crying, the way Beatrice comes to the realization and starts crying herself too.....

Beatrice could have refuted Maria here. Could have told her the secret of Ange's magic, and probably could have destroyed both her friendship with Sakutarou and Ange in the process and made Maria more dependent on her.. But she chose not to. She dearly cares for Maria and chooses the best for her even when it meant to step into a world where she saw no allies anywhere, a world where the only thing left to do in her mind was suicide.

Ange says while crying. This is obviously that is something above what Beato can do at this point in time, but Ange can't admit that, or else she would have to deal with the fact she sent Beatrice on a suicide march. I am not trying to demonize Ange, though. The same understanding that leads you to Beatrice also leads you towards understanding Ange.

I think the point of this red, Ange is my sister red, etc. Is to get you thinking about what the re means. Even if it's not an 'objective' truth it can still be declared in red as long as it is treated as true by the game.

And, as a last step in order to reach her goals, Ange rolls back any progress Beatrice has made into getting Battler to understand her. She is once again demonized in her mind and now he has activated his hero complex in order to get him to destroy her. Beatrice plays along because by now the only thing she wants is for all of this to end.

Well I don't have any comments here, Battler.

Beatrice....

#umiepisode4 #umineko

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misfxtteam · 2 months ago

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Bucky smiles faintly, of course Tony started building bots like that wen he was 15, and the mention of Steve. He shrugs, “Stevie is…he’s a black and white type of guy with most things, so yeah he’s not going to understand how we go from how we were behaving yesterday to today, but he’ll wrap his mind around it eventually.” He does nod in agreement that the concrete floor hadn’t been the most comfortable. He thinks for a second about the question before shaking his head, “No, honestly I really enjoyed everything we did,” he says with a faint blush.

He listens to Tony’s explanation about what the government had made legal, torture against suspected terrorists, the evidence that some of it was sexual in nature. He looks a bit uncomfortable, staring down at the creamers and taking one to just toy with on the table, something to distract himself from some of the worst of the memories in his head. He nods almost imperceptible, glancing up at Tony with a sort of pain in his eyes that he usually made sure to keep hidden, “You..aren’t far off. It didn’t..it didn’t happen often back in the beginning. But once they had me conditioned with the trigger words, they would use them sometimes to make me do things. Nothing rough or anything like that, just..mainly for oral,” he says quietly, looking back down at the creamer and thinking more on how he felt about it, whether it would be an issue in future. “It’s not that I think I can never do that again, I just..if I wanted to try, I would need to do it at my own pace. Meaning it would have to be a time when I’m in control and I want to do it to make you feel good, I don’t think I can handle it yet if it’s the other way around, at least not right now.”

He is quiet for a moment, contemplating something, “I liked when you were rough, I know with my super strength I could easily fight back but..but I didn’t want to. It felt…it felt really good just knowing that I was allowing it to happen by not fighting back. With them, no matter how hard i tried to fight back in the beginning, before the conditioning set in, I…they were always able to subdue me. Whether because they had a bunch of people all at once fighting me, or they would use taser-batons, and use the electricity to incapacitate me. But with you earlier it was like I..even though I wasn’t in control, it felt like I was because I knew i would be able to fight back if I wanted to, but because I knew that it felt like it was..more enjoyable because I didn’t feel weak or anything but more like I was making an active choice to allow it,” he realizes.

He had never thought about sex like this. It was always in the context of what he or his partner liked, what was enjoyable, and taboo things were always more intense but he had never thought about how it related to his trauma. In his research, he had seen that many kinks could often be rooted in a trauma or PTSD response but he had always shut down that train of thought. The idea of processing those things alone, and with no experience to connect it to, it felt like it would be an endless road of hypotheticals that would just lead to spiraling down into the tortured memories. He liked talking it out this way with Tony, with someone who had their own trauma so talking about it didn’t feel like a pity party or like Tony felt sorry for him

He looks up at Tony when he mentions stepping over the line, “No, no you aren’t stepping over the line with that. And if you want to ask about your parents Tony, you can. I..I honestly don’t mind trying to answer. But any of my HYDRA assignments I..I don’t know much outside of what I actually did. So if I don’t know something, I hope that’s okay. And..I don’t think it’s necessarily going to undo the work that we did, not when it’s a conversation like this. When we’ve talked about it in the past, we’ve always been on edge, adversarial about it, i felt the need to defend myself. I’m going to try and not think like that, I want to be able to be open to at least hearing the questions without assuming that you’re being accusatory,” he explains, looking down at his metal hand and just tracing the seams between the metal plating absently as he speaks.

“We do need to work on the buddies part,” Bucky agrees, there was no denying that. “Is it crazy that I think we could be friends, like actually decent friends? We’re both sarcastic little shits, and I do love talking about your tech with you, like..like those bots today in your lab? They were..i thought they were really interesting at least, I would have asked about them more if we hadn’t started talking about other stuff,” he admits, remembering the tense conversation they’d had. It did seem like they had a few common interests even if it was in different ways. Like Tony being a genius while Bucky was merely interested in seeing and learning about new tech, he had no skill in building anything that didn’t come with instructions.

He can’t help the proud smile that he tried to hide by looking over the menu, god it shouldn’t inflate his ego so much to know Tony thought he was the best, but he would definitely hold onto that even if only to brag within his own head. He is quiet for a moment at least before glancing to Tony, “I think..in this convo especially, you can ask about HYDRA, if you want to. When I said I don’t want to get into it too much, i just meant I didn’t plan on explaining the details of what I meant by punching bag. If you have questions, I can’t promise I’ll answer, there’s still some stuff I haven’t fully processed myself, so I might let you know I can’t answer something but I won’t mind you asking,” he promises Tony sincerely.

He glances up at the waitress as she comes to their table, smiling faintly and shaking his head with amusement at Tony’s continued use of the nicknames, “I’d like the pancake platter please, with the scrambled eggs and bacon, and a cup of coffee, oh and a glass of water please,” he requests, smiling at the woman as she jots everything down. Once she walks away, he sets his menu aside and smiles a bit, “I think doing both does add some intensity to both, I don’t like to give empty praise, I’ve always been about finding the right balance. I’m glad it worked for you, it would have been a little embarrassing if it hadn’t,” he chuckles, tapping his metal fingers on the table absently as he thinks for a moment

“Was there anything today that you didn’t like? Whether it was something you didn’t like at all, or if there was something that you liked in some ways and disliked partially?”

#james buchanan barnes #ironwinter rp #pick your battles #mr-tony-stark

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littlepadika · 4 years ago

Text

Calling Home (5) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues…

Rating: E (18+ only)

Warnings: age gap (legal), dilf!frankie, praise kink, voice kink, size kink, low self esteem, discussion of addiction/ptsd/trauma/triggers, divorce drama, no use of y/n, no beta reader, DDLG🎀, unprotected piv sex, oral m and oral f, hickies galore👅, mild BDSM (cuffs⛓, choking).

Masterlist here

AN: Whatta ride... but all things come to an end🥺. i'm blown away by the support for this fic. Thank you all 💕.

Chapter Five

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie had his own mental list of stuff he needed to do before you would arrive. He dunged out his closet to make room for your clothes. It was long overdue. He had a lot of things he didn’t wear anymore that needed to go. He went out and bought some more plates and silverware since his two plates and Rosie’s plastic plates would not do. He no longer looked around his home with a sense of loneliness, now he pictured all the places you could fit in. He could see you reading by the window in the living room so he bought a comfy new chair to put there. He noticed your small plant collection in your apartment and thought you’d maybe like a bigger one in the back yard so he bought a planter box.

He was reading your novel, titled Our Little Kingdom, while your candle burned. You didn't give it to him at first. While you were in the bathroom and Frankie washed your dishes, he noticed a stack of papers poking out in the trash. It was your manuscript. When you came back and saw him reading it you tried to take it back but Frankie insisted and you caved. It was good. Frankie wasn't just saying that because he loved you. He could see how great writers had influenced you and still it was uniquely your voice. The story, too, was compelling. He couldn't help but imagine you as the protagonist as she was just as sweet and clever.

You were making good progress on your list. You had put in your two weeks notice and started to applying to jobs in Miami. You enjoyed working with veterans so you hoped you could do something similar again. As two weeks went by you were disappointed you still hadn't heard back from job interviews. Packing was a little more difficult. You didn’t know what was worth taking and what was worth leaving. You knew Frankie had most everything already so it was a matter of picking your most special things. The rest you were slowing taking to Goodwill in batches.

You had completely forgotten you sent your book in to publishers until a flurry of emails came in on the same day.

Frankie woke up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing. He sat up pulling the phone towards him. It was you. Why would you be calling so late? Maybe something was wrong?

“Frankie?” You sounded congested. He heard a sniffle. Frankie furrowed his brow at that.

“Hey. Is everything all right?”

“ They-they-“ you could barely get it out “they rejected me.”

“Who?”

“All of them. All of the book agencies.” You threw yourself onto your bed, hot tears running down your face.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, sweet pea.” Frankie didn’t know whether to be sad or angry. He thought your book was amazing. He sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp. “They’re idiots. Every one of them.”

“They’re experts, Frankie.” You felt more tears leak from your eyes. “Maybe I’m just not a good writer. Maybe-Maybe-" You hiccuped and low cry slipped from your mouth. You covered your mouth, taking in raking breaths. It was agony to admit this to him when he believed in you most. You felt like you had let him down. Frankie's heart literally ached in his chest as he listened to your quiet weeping over the phone. He waited for you to continue, feeling his own eyes grow misty.

“Don’t disappear on me, little pea. Let me hear that voice of yours.”

You were unable to speak. Scared of what may come out. You felt like your walls were closing in around you and mocking you. How did you ever think you could be a writer like all your favorite authors? You were so stupid, you thought.

“I let you down.” You said shakily.

“No no no, little pea.” Frankie said quickly. “You could never let me down. I don’t need to a book agent to tell me you’re a good writer. I know you’re writing is beautiful and perfect. Just like you.”

His praise caused another wave of tears from you.

“Daddy…” You bawled.

“I hear you, baby.” Frankie heard his own voice shake with emotion. He never hated the distance more than he did in this moment. He needed to wrap you up in his arms. “Close your eyes, sweet pea. Use that big imagination of yours. Pretend I’m there with you.”

“Imagination isn’t good enough, daddy.” You blubbered, fat tears slipping from your eyes.

“I know, baby.” Frankie’s heart was breaking. “But try for me okay?”

You clamped your eyes shut and tried to focus in on his breathing on the other end of the phone. Frankie did the same, closing his eyes.

“Good, sweet pea. Focus on daddy.” He wished he was there to comfort you, wrap you up in his arms and shield you from the cruel cruel world. “I’m next to you. I’m holding you so tight.”

“Hold me tighter!” You begged holding your pillow pet to your chest.

“Okay. I just did.” Frankie whispered closing his eyes as if it would be more real. “Feel that?”

“Yeah…” A moment went by as you steadied your breathing. Tears eventually stopped falling, drying against your cheeks. Frankie’s steady breathing anchored you.

“I loved your book. It was really really good. And fuck it, I’ll publish it myself.” Frankie couldn't help but raise his voice.

“Silly.” You sniffled.

“I’m serious, sweet pea. Who needs those stuck up assholes.”

“Hmm yeah, you’re right.” You agreed, voice softening with sleepiness. You pushed your face into your pillow. You could still smell Frankie if you really focused. "I miss you, Frankie."

"I miss you, too."

"I still haven't heard from any jobs. And- maybe I'm just not good enough and-" You felt more tears fill your eyes.

"Shhh shhh" Frankie interrupted "Listen to me. You are the best. The right thing will turn up i'm sure of it."

"But it's the only thing left on the list!"

"I know..." Frankie pulled over your copy of the list that you wrote for him. He had crossed things off as you reported to him. "Let's see if they get back to you tomorrow." Maybe he was being too hard on you, making you get a job first. He only wanted to put it on there to give you some independence over the move. He didn't want you to feel like you had nothing to do once you got here.

Frankie waited until your breathing evened out. He called your name quietly. When he got no response he assumed you fell asleep. He didn’t want to hang up. He missed you so fucking much and he felt helpless.

When he woke up the next morning, he said goodbye to Rosalia as usual, called in sick, and started driving north. Fuck the list. You were coming home with him now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course Frankie called you telling you he was on his way. You felt bad for making him miss work but your excitement overpowered any guilt. You set a timer for 14 hours and started packing with new energy. Your eyes were still puffy from your tears last night. But you repeated what Frankie said like a mantra. Who needs those stuck up assholes. There were tons of ways to self publish nowadays. It didn’t have to be through a publishing house.

When you ran out of things to clean up and pack, you watched out the window waiting to see Frankie’s blue pick up. You had changed into sleep shorts and a t shirt. While you had a plan to dress more sexy you ended up accidentally packing that surprise in one of the boxes earlier today. It was getting dark when Frankie finally pulled up. He looked exhausted but still… Frankie. He was wearing his favorite hat and grey t shirt. You ran down to the street to meet him. He’s pulling empty boxes from the bed of the truck when he sees you sprinting towards him.

“Sweet pea!” He smiled as you launched yourself into his arms. “Oof.” You buried you face in his shirt inhaling his scent. He rubbed your back affectionately enjoying having you back in his arms. “Aw… it’s okay. It’s okay now.” He murmured when he heard you sniffle. He oddly felt his chest swell with pride at how much you missed him. He never had to worry about how you felt about him. He peeled your head off him by stroking your head. You looked up at him with a watery smile. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

You snickered at his dad phases. “I’m ready. Well… I still have some stuff I need to pack up. Too heavy.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Frankie kissed you chastely. You pulled him in for more though, fisting his shirt in your hands. “Mmm no no. Work first. Play later.” Frankie pulled back. You pouted but have to agree with his logic. The faster you packed the faster you could leave.

Back in your apartment Frankie got to work taking apart your bed and dresser. You finished packing your clothes and dusting.

“Hey what’s this? It was under the bed.” Frankie walked over holding a gift bag with pink tissue paper sticking up.

“Oh…” You quickly grabbed it away. “That’s supposed to be a surprise. For Rosie.”

“You got her a present?” Frankie was touched by your thoughtfulness.

“Yeah I mean… I figured it might make her like me more.”

“She already likes you, but she can never have too many toys.” Frankie stepped further into your space. You realize at that moment how sweaty he was from moving all the furniture. It was so late at night and you were both exhausted but the sudden rush of his thicker smell made you feel wide awake. “Can I see what you got her?”

You handed the package back over, watching him gingerly move the tissue paper to the side. His eyes softened when he saw the pink unicorn pillow pet sitting in the bag. A mini version of yours.

“Am I too presumptuous making us matching? I don’t know if she likes unicorns and-" Frankie cut you off, dropping the bag and kissing you up against the wall. He wasn't even sure what part of that turned him on, just your sweetness and wanting to be a part of his family. He held your face in his hands, his grip forcing your mouth open. You felt yourself start to grow wet. You loved when he just went caveman on you. Sometimes he didn’t have the words to express how much he loved you so he reverted to touch; to deep kisses and deep thrusts. His hands trailed down your exposed legs so he could lift you up on his hips. You held onto his shoulders as he swung you around. The bed was gone, the couch was gone.

"Fuck. Hang on."

You laughed as he ran you out to the kitchen to set you down on the counter. You pawed at his pants trying to undo his belt, but Frankie was faster, unhooking your bra from under your shirt and then pulling your shirt over your head. He took your hand and placed it over his large bulge between his legs.

“Feel what you do to me…” He gritted through his teeth his chest rising and falling sharply.

 “Frankie- oh my god-please let me” You pulled he belt loose. At first he stops you. “I didn’t get to last time. Please?” He bit his lip considering your plea. He really just wanted to give and give and give to you. But he had been mean last time, not letting you touch his cock. So this time he doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his pants and pull him out of his boxers. You licked your lips as his cock fell into your hand, curving up towards you.

You hopped off the counter, getting onto your knees before him. “Take off your shirt… please?” He obliged. You kissed down his belly feeling it tighten against your lips. He watched you with fire in his eyes, his mouth slightly parted. You pushed the rest of his pants and boxers down. You stroked him slowly with both hands.

“You have to tell me what you like…” You held his cock and licked a long stripe from the base to the head making him moan weakly. You repeat the motion adding a few kitten licks at the end, lapping up the stray drops of salty precum. Frankie was struggling to think let alone speak. He gripped the countertop above you, his other hand going to the back of your head.

“Just- go slow.” You followed his instructions, slowly taking his length in your mouth. “Good-good girl.” He clenched his jaw staring down at the sight. Your hot mouth felt like heaven and your innocent eyes staring up at him was just the cherry on top. You took his dick as far as you could before you choked lightly. You were by no means an expert at giving blowjobs but you were frustrated you couldn't go further. Your jaw was already aching from his girth.

“Mm don’t hurt yourself, baby.” He hissed unable to hold his hips still, he jerked a little against you making you whine. “Come back up, remember to breathe.”

You slowly pulled off his cock before going down again. Frankie’s hand on your head gently guided you so you didn’t hurt your throat. You added suction, applying pressure on the underside of his cock. You started to find what he liked based on his sounds. You still couldn’t take him all the way in your mouth, tears gathered in corner of your eyes from the effort. Your hand pumped the rest that wouldn’t fit.

“Oh fuck.” Frankie gasped his hips jerking again making his cock slide back into your mouth. You moved one of your hands to his hips looking up at him to say it was okay. “Are you-you want me to fuck your mouth, sweet pea?” You nodded eagerly. You put one of you hands on his length where he wouldn’t fit. He gathered up some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly thrust into your mouth. Like he always did, he waited for you to nod and give him the okay. When you did, he couldn’t help the growl that left his throat. Drool leaked from your mouth onto your chest as he sped up using your head more forcefully. You were sure you had soaked through your panties. It turned you on so much to see him take control, use you for his pleasure, but still his grip on you was firm and gentle. Every grunt went straight to your pussy. “Such a good girl letting me use this hole, too.” He rasped. “You’re crying around my cock.”

“Mmhm” You hummed around his dick making him groan. He was close. He was battering the back of your throat. You could recognize the furrowed brow and the tightening of his balls. You intensified your ministrations.

“Good girl, good-I’m gonna cum in your little mouth.” He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. “Stick out your tongue, sweet pea.” He ordered. You obeyed, watching greedily as he fisted himself harshly the tip of his cock hitting your tongue. You placed your hands on either side of his tummy, anticipating his load. His chest was flush and his eyes were fluttering shut. When he came he yanked your head up harshly as cum splashed onto your tongue. You loved this perspective, watching his face contort with pleasure. You tried to take every drop but some dripped down your chin. “Swallow.” Frankie ordered roughly still maintaining his grip on your head. You swallowed, his warm cum sliding down your throat.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled up at him, wiping some of the stray cum off your chin. He let go of your hair, now stroking your head then your jaw. “Did I do well?”

“So good.” He chuckled and helped you stand, his breath still ragged. You squirmed pressing your thighs together. The move not missed by Frankie. “Did sucking my cock make you wet, sweet pea?”

You nodded shyly before saying “It’s okay though. You don’t have to-it’s late and we have a long drive tomorrow.”

“You’re always looking out for me but what kind of man would I be if I left you all needy. But you have to ask for it, sweet pea.”

“I kinda just want your mouth if that’s okay?” You asked feeling too tired for a full round of sex.

“Of course.” Frankie smiled. “Your mattress is still in the bedroom.” He led you in and helped settle you on the center of the mattress. He pulled your shorts and underwear off, staring at your slick reddened pussy. "You soaked your little panties, sweet pea. Did you touch your little flower while I was gone?" Frankie asked, pulling apart your legs.

"I-I tried to. But it wasn't the same."

"How come, little pea?" His patronizing tone had your cunt clenching. He was teasing you.

"It wasn't your fingers. I needed you." You huffed, trying to push his head down onto you.

"Mmm poor thing." Frankie chuckled, the rich sound giving you goosebumps. He felt his cock start to harden again despite you just sucked the soul out of him moments ago. He slowly licked up your slit moaning at the taste of you. Your head tipped back as he he slowly inserted a finger into you. "Eyes on me." He instructed. You forced your head back down so you could make eye contact. "Play with your tits for me." You obeyed, squeezing the flesh in your hand. He returned to his task, taking your clit in between his lips, quickly escalating your climax. Your hands never stood a chance. He inserted a second finger, curling it against you. They were so thick and long it hit that spot deep inside you it made you gush.

"Oh my god. Daddy-I'm-" You teetered on the precipice your breath caught in your throat. Your entire body erupted in flames as your mouth open in a silent scream. Frankie's eyes widened as your pussy strangled his fingers before fluttering uncontrollably. Your cum dripped onto his hand, he quickly replaced his fingers with his tongue trying to catch it all.

"That's it." He felt you finally take a shaking inhale. "Breathe, sweet pea. Breathe." Exhaustion hit you hard as every muscle relaxed.

"I'm sleepy..." You slurred.

"It's okay. You can go to sleep." Frankie leaned up kissing you, smearing your slick all over your mouth. He returned to licking your pussy less aggressively though. "I got you."

You nodded before drifting off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you dump the last of your stuff at goodwill, packed the truck, turned in your key, and hit the road. You were bouncing in your seat with excitement. You hadn’t ever traveled south of DC. The landscape was beautiful. You and Frankie took turns driving, belting Fleetwood Mac on repeat. You forced Frankie to take obligatory selfies to remember the journey at rest stops or whenever the view was worthy. Over halfway to Miami you paused at a rest stop for a quick nap. Frankie was anxious to get you home and he didn’t want to stay put for too long. He was used to long drives and quick naps, but you weren’t. He didn’t want to exhaust you because there was so much he wanted to show you when you arrived. You laid across the backseat of the truck with your head in Frankie’s lap as the sun was going down.

In the early morning Frankie finished the drive. His own excitement increased when he was back in the city. You had your head nearly sticking out of the window looking at everything. You couldn’t believe how sunny and warm it was here. Frankie turned down a residential street. “Almost there.” He said. You buzzed in your seat.

Frankie made one last turn into a driveway. You instantly got warm feelings looking at the house. It was painted seagull grey with white trim. It was wonderfully symmetrical with two windows on the first and second floor with window boxes outside the first floor window. The front yard was nicely mowed.

“Your house is so cute!” You hopped out of the car, your legs enjoying the chance to stretch. The air smelled slightly salty being so close to the beach. The sun felt wonderful on your skin. You could have laid down in the grass and just fallen asleep.

Frankie showed you around his house with your hand in his, pointing out random things of importance in his giddy state. You followed him around with bright adoring eyes. Despite looking forward to this moment for a while, you barely looked at anything except for him. You could care less about where the tile for the fireplace came from. You didn’t remember Frankie’s story about how Will messed up his back moving in Frankie’s couch in because it was hitting you over and over again that you were home with Frankie. You didn’t pay attention to the story behind Rosie’s crib because Frankie was here with you. His warm hand holding you close like you may disappear. He was here with that damn cute excited voice as he showed you around his home, soon to be your home.

“Sweet pea? Earth to sweet pea?”

“Hmmm?” You smiled apologetically. Standing in the kitchen, the sun pouring in from the window above the sink bathed Frankie in golden light making him look ethereal.

“I said- we should start moving boxes in before it gets dark.”

“You haven’t shown me everything yet.” You realized.

“What did I miss?”

“Your room…” You swung your entwined hands back and forth.

“Our room, sweet pea.”

“So I won’t be sleeping on the floor?” You laughed.

“Never.” He kissed you briefly. “I just haven’t cleaned up in there and I need to make some space for your stuff and-“

“Frankie.” You quiet his rambling with another kiss. You couldn’t stop kissing him. “Your house is immaculate. That’s the room I want to see.”

He swallowed harshly before he led you up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to his room. While showing you the garden and the other rooms he was giddy but now he seemed more flustered. When you opened the door you could see why. Your candle was sitting on his bedside table. It was the first thing you saw when you walked in.

You immediately break away from him, going to inspect his bedside table. Glimpses of Frankie that made you love him all the more. Your candle, your books, your list, his sergeant pin, and an old alarm clock.

“Was this what you’re so embarrassed about?” You asked picking up the candle. It was almost used up. He averted his gaze. The back of his neck bright red which you recognized as a sign of his nervousness. “Frankie…” You set it down and took both his hands in yours. You couldn’t even convey what it meant to you. He had missed you that much that he burned your candle.

“I have the real thing now.” He said pulling you against his chest, dragging his nose over your cheek in reverence. You hummed in contentment. “This is our room, sweet pea. Our home.” He whispered.

“Our bed.” You added moving his hands to rest on your ass, wrapping your own around his neck.

 “Eager girl.” He tutted, kissing just below your ear, squeezing your ass lightly.

“I can’t help it. I’ve waited so long, Frankie.” You tilt your head up resting your forehead against his.

“You’ll never have to wait again, princesa pea. I’m here.”

“Then I want you now.” You tugged him towards the bed. Falling down onto his comforter you were hit by a puff of his scent. Laundry detergent, old spice, and that indescribable musk that was Frankie. You barely got a chance to enjoy it before Frankie is falling on top of you. You laughed as he pulled you up the bed until you’re against the pillows. He's about to rip your clothes from you but-

“Wait wait- I have a gift for you.” His eyes lit up.

“Frankie…” You smiled “You didn’t have to get me anything.” He pushed away from you, walking over to his dresser. He pulled out a small package.

 “Here.” He handed it to you.

You sat up. You felt guilty you didn’t get him a gift. You slowly peeled back the tape trying to save the paper. It was wrapped so nicely.

“Come on, rip it up. It’s just paper.”

“No… I wanna save it.” You argued, pulling it open finally. You stared down at the contents in your lap. It was a book with a pink cover and loopy writing. Our Little Kingdom. “Frankie… this is- this is my book.” You felt your eyes swim with tears.

“I know.” Frankie knelt in front of you. “I read it and it was so good. I wanted to get it bound. I was serious when I said want to publish it. I want to make it happen. But if you don’t want to at least we can enjoy it how it’s meant to be enjoyed.”

You flipped through the pages smelling the fresh paper. You reached the end and noticed Frankie had slipped in something as a book mark. It was a torn half of a check. “This is…”

“The check I tore up. I use it as a bookmark so I thought you would-“

You launched yourself at Frankie, a habit you learned from him when words were just simply not enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up, you were surrounded by Frankie’s scent, warm sun hitting your face. Frankie wasn't there. You heard movement downstairs. You threw on the first shirt of Frankie's you could find. You practically skipped down the stairs, heart leaping when you saw Frankie in his PJ pants and nothing else sitting at the kitchen table. His body was lit up in the morning sun, he looked like a goddamn dream. He was shoveling some cereal into his mouth but he stopped when he noticed you. He still looked so sexy to you in this moment, his strong arms and big hand gripping the small spoon. His chest littered with small hickies you made. You blinked a couple of times wanting to imprint this image into your brain forever.

“What are you doing up so early?”

“The sun woke me up!”

“Shit. I would have made you some breakfast or something.”

“That’s okay.” You smiled going to stand in front of him. You kissed him, licking some of the milk from his lips. Your hands rested on his bare golden shoulders. You loved how wide they were and how solid and warm they felt.

“Mmm is this mine, sweet pea?” He tugged at the Fleetwood Mac shirt hanging down to your thighs.

“No, it’s another boys.” You teased.

“Don’t joke about that, little pea.” Frankie warned with a small swipe to your ass.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You giggled. “I was only joking. No one else has cool shirts like you.”

“You want some cereal? I can also make eggs or pancakes or-“

“I want-” You slipped your hand over his pants. You could feel his slightly hard cock sitting below. “This.”

“You already had some last night and you still want more?” Frankie groaned his thighs spreading further around you. “I thought you’d be sore, sweet pea.”

“I am.” You admitted kissing him quickly. “but I still want you.”

“Mmm…” Frankie pulled your hand away watching you pout. “I think you need to eat something first.”

“No I don’t!”

“Come on, I’ll let you sit on your special seat.” He tapped his thigh. You debated this. You decided to do what he asked, not wanting to test your luck so early in the day. You hopped up on his lap wiggling back until his semi hard cock was pressed against your back. Your thighs sitting over his legs, your pussy peaking out from his shirt. Frankie rested his big hands on your bare thighs rubbing the skin back and forth. You closed your eyes enjoying his touch. You could feel his breath against your neck as he looked down at the sight.

“Do I look good on my special seat, daddy?” You asked looking up at him.

“Perfect, my little pea.” Frankie smiled. He pulled the cereal over and you popped a bite in your mouth. You didn’t normally like cereal but since Frankie asked…

“Okay, done. I’ve eaten.”

“Woah I hardly call that eating.” Frankie shook his head. He placed a hand on your stomach, fingers splayed out over the entire width almost. He applied a little pressure which had you squirming again. God his hands were so big and warm just above where you needed him. “I can feel little rumblings telling me you’re hungry, sweet pea.” You rock against him more intentionally making him catch his breath.

“Not for cereal.” You bit your lip.

“One more bite, sweet pea. For daddy?” He rubbed his beard into your neck which never failed to make you to laugh.

 You took another spoonful of the soggy cereal before looking up at him for approval. He chuckled as you chewed quickly. You looked so cute with your cheeks full. It made cock ache.

“Good job, sweet pea.” He smirked when you swallowed it all. He lowered his hand down to cup your pussy which was already dripping. You hand flew to his thick forearm.

You melted against him as he rubs your clit slowly. Last night was hurried and desperate but now it was like he had all the time in the world. You listened to him take large inhale against your neck, smelling you.

“You look so beautiful, sweet pea. In my shirt. In our kitchen.”

“Fuck…” You moaned. His fingers felt so wonderful and thick against you. You fucking loved the sound of that. Ours.

“I’m gonna fuck you on our table.”

He lifted you up with ease, pushing your back down on the table. The sun coming through the window bathed your body in soft light. You looked divine. Frankie had your legs spread wide, tongue on that pussy before you could even blink. “Holy shit. Daddy!” Your hands clenched into fists at your side.

“Sweet pea.” Frankie pulled off, lips wetted by your slick. You blushed under his hot gaze. “Why don’t you pull my hair?”

You whimpered as he took your little fist and put it in his beautiful locks. “I want to but… the last person I was with didn’t like it.” You turned your head to the side trying to hide your embarrassment. His hair felt like silk in your hands.

“Hey-“ Frankie gently grabbed your chin and turned you to look at him. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He was leaning over you, invading all your senses, but of course the aspect that hit you hardest was his voice. Soft and reassuring. That rich baritone that made you fall in love in the first place. “Pull my hair, baby, I wanna know how well I treat this pussy. You won’t hurt me.”

You nodded feeling your eyes wet with tears. His affection never ceased to shock you. He kissed you, softening your worried look with each stroke of his tongue. When you were relaxed, he returned to your pussy. He was a fast learner for the times, applying the pressure you needed with his tongue while hitting that spot inside your walls with his fingers. Your hands were laced in his soft hair tugging almost unconsciously.

“Fuck-Daddy" You gasped feeling your breath. Your stomach tightened but you still felt like you weren't quite to your breaking point. "I can't- I need- I need-"

"What, sweet pea, what do you need?" Frankie paused, looking at you struggle above him. You grabbed his hand which was holding your hip and moved it to your throat. "Holy shit." Frankie's eyes widened.

"I need you to push me over-" you struggled to think of how to explain it but Frankie started applying light pressure over your throat making your cunt tighten around his fingers. The strain on your airway finally brought you to the edge. He returned to your clit and didn’t let up even as your walls clamped and gushed around his fingers. Didn’t stop as your back arched off the table, your toes curled, and your hands pulled his hair almost painfully. He let go of your throat when you tapped his wrist and your breath returned ragged and sharp, extending your orgasm. You brushed some of Frankie’s hair from his forehead and he looked up, making eye contact, as his lips suckled on your clit lightly. You didn’t say anything for a moment, feeling your body come down from that peak, basking in Frankie’s loving gaze between your legs. You felt boneless.

“I love you.” You murmured. Frankie surged up, capturing your lips in a wet kiss. He pulled back and kissed the happy tears falling from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“I love you, too. I’m never letting you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m home.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, needing to feel that promise inside you. Needing his promise filling you up.

“Are you sure you’re not too sore?”

“I’m sure.” You ran your hand through his hair, now addicted to the feeling of it.

Frankie slowly eased himself into your pussy. It was harder without lube. You winced a little once he was fully inside. Fuck he was so big.

"Am I hurting you?" Frankie felt bad and started to pull out.

"No please." You arched your back trying to hold him inside. "I'm okay. I want- I want-."

"Sweet pea..." He bit his lip as he struggled to resist thrusting into you.

"And if I can't walk- then you can carry me." You wiggled your hips. Frankie couldn't help but laugh at that not that he minded carrying you around. "Please, daddy." You asked one last time as you dug your heels into his lower back. Frankie placed his hands on your waist and started fucking into you slowly, withdrawing almost all the way out before thrusting back in again.

“I’m so proud of you… taking my cock like a good girl.” He kissed you softly, moving to kiss a train down your neck to your nipples and back up. "You're home now." You nodded in agreement. "This is our little kingdom, sweet pea.” Your shallow breaths slowly transformed into moans. You felt your muscles relax a little and signaled he could start moving faster.

Needless to say the cereal on the table shook and spilled as he fucked you. Spilled milk on your table. His cum spilled inside you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie enjoyed hosting so much since Rosie’s birthday he wanted to have a Fourth of July barbecue. With your help he took the decorations to the next level. Hanging fairy lights over the patio, and renting a bouncy castle for the kids. In an act of irrational niceness, you had said it was okay if Laura came by, that way Rosalia would be there too.

Frankie was clear he had no desire to hide you. He wanted to show you off. Still, you dreaded meeting Frankie's ex. Rosalia had warmed to you quickly even preferring you to hold her. You already loved her so much. Today she wanted you to follow her everywhere and watch her play. Frankie was stuck behind the grill but he still could watch his girls playing. You were wearing a lovely red sundress which Frankie was looking forward to stripping off. It brushed your thighs in the breeze and it was perfect height for Rosalia to tug on when she wanted to be picked up.

“You’ve done a great job with the decor.” Laura appeared at Frankie’s side.

“Thanks.” Frankie smiled tightly. Her surprised tone confirmed that she always underestimated him.

“You’ve been happier lately.” Laura studied Frankie.

“I guess.” Frankie shrugged turning one of the hot dogs for something to do.

“It just has me remembering the old days. Before everything with you happened.” Frankie prickled at that last statement. Everything with you. She always put it on him totally forgetting how she also made things worse.

“Frankie?” You appeared at his other side, eyeing Laura warily and doing little to hide your dislike. You had seen from yards away how Frankie tensed up, looking down. You wouldn’t let that slide so you went over. Finally removing your glare from his ex wife you look up at him, laying a reassuring hand over his forearm. “Uh- people are getting hungry. How soon until it’s done?”

“It’s ready now.” Frankie smiled down at you, instantly feeling more at ease. His answer let you know he was okay.

“Great I’ll wrangle everyone.” You smiled before darting back to the crowd.

“Who is that?” Laura frowned. “Someone's babysitter?”

“No.” Frankie shut off the grill facing his ex wife face to face. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Laura sounded skeptical. “She’s 12.”

“She’s a woman.” Frankie corrected her. “A woman I love very much.” He wasn’t going to listen to anyone look down on you.

“You should have talked to me before you brought her around Rosie.” Laura huffed, putting a hand on her hip.

“You had no problem parading your boyfriends around during our divorce.” Frankie shot back quickly looking to make sure they couldn’t be heard. “It’s in the court records so I doubt you want to bring it up.”

“Frankie…” Laura seemed to regret what she said.

“Let’s just… move on.” Frankie said as people started to draw near.

“Papa!” He heard Rosie squeal, toddling towards him.

“Rosie!” He picked her up, his anger instantly melting away. “Ready for your hot dog?”

As Frankie and the others started filling up their plates Laura crept closer to you as you were cleaning up some of the kid’s mess by the pool.

“Excuse me. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Laura.” She extended her hand. She was taller than you. Her face was tight as if she was holding in her sneer.

“Hi.” You decided to be nice, shaking the woman’s hand. You introduced yourself.

“So… you and Frankie. “

“Yes.”

“How long has that been going on?”

“A few months.” You said keeping it vague.

“And it’s going well?”

“Yes.” You grew annoyed by her vague questioning. Obviously it was going well since you were here. Her eyes were the total opposite of Frankie's. Hard and cold and icy blue. You quietly thanked god that Rosalia had inherited Frankie's eyes.

“Hmm he’s not doing that crazy thing anymore?”

“What thing?” You frowned.

“Well one time while we were together he stayed up the whole night because he thought some criminal or something was after us.” Laura laughed cruelly. You wanted to slap her for her lack of sympathy. What was funny about Frankie’s fear? “The psychiatrist said there would be delusions but that was just too much.”

“I think I’ve heard enough.” You snipped, trying to keep at least a polite facade. There were people just a few feet away. You prayed the couldn’t hear.

“Hey I’m sorry.” She schooled her features. “Don’t think I’m cruel. It wasn’t easy being with someone like that. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“Thanks for that. I think I'm good though.” You finished picking up the last pool toy and walked away before Laura could say more. You wanted to turn back and say something mean but you were determined to be the bigger person. You didn’t want to start drama that would hurt Frankie and Rosalia. You spent a good minute in the garage after putting the toys back, positively fuming.

“Sweet pea?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts, joining you in the garage. “Aren’t you hungry?”

"I was just cleaning up.” You said though your hands were empty.

“I saw Laura talking to you.” He watched you warily. Fear lapped at him. What did Laura tell you...“Everything okay?”

“She just… a bitch.” You huffed. Your word choice made Frankie burst out laughing. “I’m sorry I know you married her but how? She’s awful and rude and judgmental.”

“I know.” Frankie quieted his laughter, pulling you into his chest. “It wasn’t meant to last.”

“Because she’s a bitch.” You grumbled into his chest making Frankie laugh again. His tummy bounced against yours with his laughter. You loved it. You thought again about what Laura said. How cruel she had been in the face of Frankie’s PTSD. “If she says one more rude thing I may have to smack her.”

“You’re hot when you’re possessive, you know that?” Frankie smiled tickling your sides. “Come on, we should get back before our guests start to notice.”

“Alright.” You agreed, taking his hand and following him out of the garage. You felt Laura’s eyes on you two when you came back to the yard. Frankie got your burger set up for you before doing his. It’s the simple things that got you going; how giving he is. You tried to hide your blush from the onlookers as Frankie asked you ketchup or mustard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once everyone went home you and Frankie laid out a blanket in the back so you could watch the fireworks happening on the beach a mile away. He was quiet, at least more than he usually is. You didn’t know what to say to reassure him so again you reverted to touch. You placed your hand on his thigh reassuringly.

“Frankie?” You turned to him. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“No.” He seemed taken aback by your question.

“Okay.” You moved closer to him until you were tucked into his side.

“You mean about Laura.” Frankie said after a moment. “Just- she didn’t say anything to you to make you upset right? She doesn’t get under my skin anymore. I don’t want her to get under yours.”

“She didn’t get under my skin.” You replied. She said nothing to make you insecure, just make you angry at her is all. “I’m just protective of you, you know. It seems like she was awful to you.”

“It’s fine.” Frankie shrugged.

“No.” You moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. “It’s not. You came back from your deployment probably in need of some comfort and all she gave you was judgment."

“She told you about that night.” Frankie hung his head in humiliation. You didn’t deny it. You didn’t want to upset him but part of you knew he should talk about this. Laura shouldn’t be the only one who holds this memory over his head. “It was my first night back. I just- I swore I heard gunfire. I was freaking out. I was probably acting really scary. I thought they came for me and she-Laura called the cops on me.”

“How could she…” You teared up on behalf of Frankie.

“I ran.” He continued, his voice thick. “I stayed a Will’s and calmed down. That was the end of the marriage.” He rubbed up and down your thighs under your dress. It always comforted him. You tried to think of what to say. His wife, the person who was supposed to love him the most, ostracized him and criminalized him.

Frankie was anticipating you to be afraid of him or push him away, but to his surprised you pulled him into a hug, holding his head against your neck like he was a child. He felt a sob rise in his throat and tears wet his eyes. You were so... kind. It was something he was still learning to accept and realize he deserved .

“You’re right.” You took a breath to relax yourself. “It doesn’t matter what she says. You’re mine now. Not hers.” You kissed Frankie on his nose then kissed his mouth.

“Always, sweet pea.” He rubbed his thumb over the area of your brow that furrowed in residual anger.

“I just wish there were some way…” you chewed your lip. “I have these-“ you pulled his dog tags out from where they hung between your breasts. “Reminds me I’m yours.”

“Maybe I need a necklace too.” Frankie smiled squeezing your thighs. That got you thinking…

“Can I try something?” You asked. Frankie nodded looking amused. You tugged at his shirt pulling it over his head. You never got over how broad he was. His toned arms were flexed holding himself up. You leaned forward planting a wet kiss on Frankie’s neck where it met his shoulder.

“Mmm gonna mark me up?”

You nodded and sucked harder till you were satisfied it would leave a mark. Pulling back you admired the red blooming where your mouth had been. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it did but you loved that he had a physical mark from you. He had scars here and there from cross fire and stab wounds. Some he wouldn’t go into detail. You loved them all but for once you wanted him to have a mark born out of love.

“I’m gonna give you a necklace, daddy.” You murmured tracing the path you would forge, down and around to the other side of his neck. You were gonna make hicks all around his neck like a chain. You leaned back down and planted another mark below and slightly to the right.

“Holy shit.” Frankie groaned, tilting his head back. He felt his cock start to harden under your attention. You slowly made your way across his hot skin until you had seven little wet hickies starting to show through the skin. You traced them with your finger, connecting the dots.

Frankie looked down, watching in fascination. His dog tags were a bittersweet thing, symbolizing his commitment to the military, but you wanted them. You wore them proudly, giving him more closure than 100 hours of therapy. But this... this new chain on his skin represented his belonging to you. “Beautiful, baby girl. Thank you.” He kissed you sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You pulled away before he could deepen it. You start to lean down again like you were going to plant another hickie on him. He pushed you back and rolled the both of you over.

“Daddy! I wasn’t done yet.” You wiggled against the soft blanket.

“No it’s daddy’s turn now.” He pushed the straps of your dress down your arms, tugging your neckline down.

“But I already have a necklace.” You felt Frankie’s dog tags lying in your cleavage.

“Now you’ll have two. I spoil my girl like that.” Frankie teased. He kissed up and down your neck before settling on his starting place. When he started sucking it sent a lightning bolt straight to your clit. You gasped. You could feel him hard against your thigh, not fully yet. You rocked your hips impatiently, clutching his head against you.

“Be patient, baby.” He warned, pausing his work. You stilled your hips with a pout. “Good girl.” He resumed. You wanted to be naughty but you knew you’d never win that fight. Problem was you were loving his attention on your neck so much you couldn’t help but start grinding against his leg again. Your hand reached down and tried to stroke his hardening cock. Frankie pulled back, his lips swollen from giving you hickies. He was only halfway around your chest now.

“You’re being naughty…” Frankie chided, lightly slapping your hand away from him. You continued squirming under his gaze though you at least look apologetic. Frankie pulled away. “You don’t want your necklace?” Frankie pretended to be hurt.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You turned on the puppy dog eyes. “Just- your mouth feels so good.”

“If you’re not gonna behave I’m gonna have to make you behave.” Frankie’s mouth curled into a smirk. Your stomach flipped around in excitement. “Sit back up on your knees.” He ordered. You eagerly sat up on your knees, placing your hands on your thighs. Your dress hung around your waist. Frankie stood up and started undoing his belt. You got excited thinking he was going to let you suck his cock but instead he just pulled his belt from his pants and knelt down again. “Remember just say stop if you want to stop.” Frankie reminds you.

You nodded your eyes dilating, staring at the leather in his hands.

“Hands behind your back, baby.” He instructed. You obeyed your knees widening subconsciously. He tied his belt around your wrists. It’s not tight enough to hurt but you certainly could not move your hands without really trying. Frankie licked his lips, staring down at your vulnerable position. “Good little sweet pea.” He cooed. “Now you won’t be able to be naughty. What do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” You whispered feeling your cheeks burn at the depravity of your position. The smooth leather of his belt rubbed against your pulse point and Frankie’s smell filled your nose. You’re out in the open. Sure there was a fence but it still heightened your arousal. You were dripping you were sure of it. He knelt before you again to finish his hickies. He held your hair pulling it back to give himself more room.

You tried to lift up your arms multiple times but got stopped by the belt. You whined as he sucked another mark into you and you couldn’t get any stimulation in this position. Frankie let you moan and whine for him but he didn’t stop his mission. He finally pulled back, his hooded eyes evaluated at his work.

“Look at it, baby.”

You looked down at the curved line of hickies running from collarbone to collarbone. “Thank you, daddy, for my necklace. I love it so much.” You looked at his chest. You were matching now. Your lust was momentarily paused as a fresh wave of adoration washed over you. It was so much deeper than sex. Frankie noticed your change in expression and kissed you softly, bringing you back to the moment.

“You sat still for me so good. Now you can ask for what you want.” He strokes your hair softly.

“I wanna-I wanna suck you cock please?”

“Are you sure?” Frankie smiled. “You don’t want my mouth on you or-"

“No.” You shook your head. The emotions swirling in you from lust to love made you hungry for one thing. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

“Fuck.” He groaned before kissing you hard, licking into your mouth. He never had someone as giving and kind and protective of him as you. He could have cried but there was no need because you were his forever. No yearning just living. He reached around to pull off the belt but you stopped him with a small voice.

“Leave it on.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Frankie stood quickly. You sat up further, your hands still restrained behind your back. Your head was tilted up at him, your dress bunched around your waist, it was the most beautiful fucking sight.

Red blue and white fireworks dazzled the sky above. He picked you up bridal style and carried you inside as quickly as he could while you giggled in delight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things started clicking into place like you were growing along some metaphorical ladder. You were finally where you needed to be. You got a job working at the VA in Miami, running their re-entry program. A small publishing house in Miami loved your book and agreed to publish it for a short run. Frankie took some money out of the Colombia account to cover the rest of the contract. Frankie had the book for sale at the shop pushing it on anyone who would enter. He was so proud of you. And that was all that mattered to you.

Frankie unironically planted sweet pea in the garden, telling you how they are slow to grow, but their delicate flower and sweet smell is worth the wait; just like you. Sweet peas were climbers, with the right support, they would bend to any shape. You knew you could go as high as the sky with Frankie by your side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @floraandfrost @agingerindenial, @heythere-mel, @icanbeyourjedi, @linnie0119, @pedrosmustache, @thisshipwillsail316, @peterhollandkait, @leias-rebelion, @phoenix-of-loki, @prettypedros, @kennedywxlsh, @punkerthanpascal, @the-witty-pen-name, @twentyfirstcenturyfox, @madslorian, @sarahjkl82-blog, @bison-writes, @lightning-fast54, @maievdenoir, @nicolethered, @kenoobiwan, @danniburgh, @janebby, @dihra-vesa, @yespolkadotkitty, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @headinthestarz, @tanyaherondale, @christina-loves, @dobbyjen, @fangirl-316

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #calling home series #daddy!frankie

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julemmaes · 4 years ago

Text

Robyn

Rowaelin Month, Day Ten

A/N: I'd planned on posting them in order, but you get what you get. Idk when the other prompts will come tbf. I hope soon. Anyway, I managed to write over 6k words today and I'm pretty fucking proud.

This is just fluff over fluff, so yep enjoy!!

Word count: 3,047

Rowan was unbelievably late as he sped through the streets of Orynth.

So late that the school had called not only him, but also the front desk of the place where he worked when he hadn't answered the call on his personal phone. Sorscha, his assistant, had entered his office with an embarrassed smile on her lips, as if she didn't want to tell him that he had forgotten for the umpteenth time to pick up his daughter from school.

Lorcan had joined him, for some strange reason, but Rowan had stopped bothering when it came to his best friend. He'd been trying to figure out how he reasoned for years and had come to the conclusion that there was no logical sense in the actions of the man sitting next to him, who was currently singing at the top of his lungs to one of the songs on the Frozen CD - which much to the chagrin of both of them, had gotten stuck in his car radio months before, forcing them into hours of torture.

He would never deny that the songs were all quite catchy, but after the sixteenth time Rowan had had to listen to Let It Go at maximum volume, his positive opinion of the film had begun to waver.

As they pulled into the school parking lot, Rowan noticed with deep regret that the only cars still there were those of the teachers and school staff.

They both got out of the car, Rowan walking quickly towards the entrance while Lorcan dragged behind him.

He greeted the caretakers sitting at the entrance, who returned a big smile. A smile that grew even wider when his large, imposing friend entered a few moments later. He stopped to talk to the old ladies and Rowan walked down the corridor he knew led to Robyn's classroom.

He could hear muffled voices from inside the teachers' room on the left and the one he knew belonged to Miss Galathynius coming from the right. He looked out over the classroom, spotting the two people sitting at a desk.

As soon as his daughter saw him, her eyes widened and a huge smile flashed across her face.

No words. No "hello, daddy!" or "I missed you!" from the little girl.

Her teacher turned as she leapt out of her chair and ran towards him, hugging his legs and looking up at him. Rowan smiled at her in turn, running a hand over her hair that was shot in every direction.

"Hello, little bird," he murmured to her. The child's smile widened even more if that was possible.

The woman a few feet away from them pulled herself upright, crossing her arms over her chest and offering a sincere smile to the child, who hid behind his thighs.

Rowan was about to tell her that Robyn was shy with everyone like this, ready to defend his daughter's behaviour as he was used to doing in front of every adult, but he was beaten to the punch.

"It's good to see you, Mr Whitethorn," she said, extending a hand. Rowan shook it without hesitation. "Actually, I just wanted to write you a letter regarding Robyn," she continued, never taking her eyes off the little girl. "Nothing serious," she hastened to reassure him when Rowan grimaced, "quite the contrary. Robyn is remarkably good. One of the best in the class, though I shouldn't offer that information so bluntly."

Miss Galathynius winked at him, but he couldn't process what he'd just been told.

"Sorry, could you-"

The little hands clamped around his trousers tightened a fraction more and Rowan looked down, trying to figure out what was bothering his daughter, but then something happened that he hadn't even dared to dream about in recent times.

"You're here!"

The little girl broke off and ran away from him in less than the blink of an eye.

Rowan turned just in time to see Lorcan grab Robyn in mid-air, spinning her around as he brought her to his chest and showered her with kisses. The loud, incessant laughter that erupted from her seemed too much coming from that fragile little body, but he never tired of hearing it.

"Why hello baby!" said Lorcan laughing in turn, starting to tickle her until she begun to rebel and he was forced to let her slide to the floor. Robyn was still laughing at the top of her lungs and nearly fell to the ground as she squealed left and right, letting herself be pushed around by the closest thing to an uncle she had ever had.

When Rowan turned back to the woman, she was wide-eyed and her lips slightly parted as she watched the massive man dressed completely in black and the menacing face turn into a completely different person the second he had seen Robyn.

He chuckled, "I know, it's not every day you get to see a little girl be so comfortable with a brute like that."

Lorcan, who was listening to everything, looked him straight in the eye and without stopping smiling and playing with the little girl, mouthed to him to fuck off.

"Well, yeah. You caught me a little off guard." she confessed, still shocked to hear how Robyn was having a full conversation with Lorcan. They couldn't hear anything of what she was actually saying, but even just the fact she was talking to someone seemed to have Aelin unsettled.

She returned her attention to Rowan and let out a breath that sounded more like a giggle, "I've never heard her laugh before."

He nodded, blushing a little at the teacher's surprised but relieved tone.

"I'm sure the dean warned you about the problem she has," he said in a low voice. He grimaced at her poor choice of words, "I mean, not problem, but the difficulty she finds in interacting with people she doesn't know."

Liar, he told himself. Robyn hadn't spoken to anyone but him and Lorcan since the day Lyria had died. It wasn't a difficulty, but a response to the trauma that prevented her from speaking to anyone who wasn't part of her immediate family.

"I know, I know. We've been looking for solutions together." she informed him. "I give her a white board every morning. Come on, I'll show you." she turned to the desk they were sitting at earlier and raised the magnetic board, on which a few words were scribbled on. "I'll write here what she might need. Yes. No. I need to go to the bathroom. I'm thirsty. I'm hungry." she read, listing the various options. Rowan gaped. "We've only just started going over the alphabet for a second time, so she can't really read or write yet, as I imagine you know, but the little drawings next to each sentence help her."

She continued talking, but he couldn't quite follow.

The woman in front of him - aside from being breathtakingly beautiful - had done as much as she could to help her child with communication.

"Mr. Whitethorn-"

"Rowan. Please, call me Rowan." he said, clearing his throat once he realized how hoarse it sounded to his ears. Lorcan walked up to them at that point, still holding Robyn in his arms and positioned himself next to him, letting their shoulders touch in a comforting way.

"Call me Aelin, then," she smiled at them both. Then she made a small grimace, turning to Rowan, "I wanted to ask if it bothered you, that I sought a solution like that. Maybe I put her in distress, embarrassed her. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted to solve this on my own. I really wanted to discuss it with you, with your husband too, to avoid misunderstandings. Maybe we could arrange a meeting."

He was about to tell her that she had given him the exact opposite of annoyance, that he had been more than pleased that she had helped Robyn this way, when her words finally registered.

Lorcan, beside him, had opened his mouth wide and his lips were slowly bending into a mischievous smile.

Rowan furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, what?"

Aelin's smile seemed to falter. "A meeting? With you? To talk about how to handle the situation," then she shifted her gaze to Lorcan, "You're more than welcome to join as well. I didn't know Robyn had two dads, I apologise for assuming Robyn had a mum and dad. That was very rude of me-"

"I love this," Lorcan whispered, laughing in shock. He turned to Rowan with eyes that sparkled with amusement, "I would definitely be the top."

Rowan looked at him with an expression of complete shock on his face, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Robyn gasped, opening her eyes wide and bringing a hand to her mouth, pointing then to Rowan's.

"Yeah, sorry, love. I shouldn't have said the bad word." he apologised, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. He turned back to Miss Galathynius, "I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, but we're not married."

"No need to lie, sweetie. I'm sure Aelin," he gave her a knowing look, "doesn't mind at all about our relationship status."

Aelin nodded, "Well, yes. That doesn't change anything. Mr..." she turned to Lorcan, searching for a name.

"Salvaterre."

"Mr. Salvaterre can still attend. The fact that you are not yet married is no reason why you cannot both be present at the meeting. You don't have to worry, we are a very tolerant school and if anyone bothers you, you can come directly to me."

A sound of sheer glee escaped Lorcan.

Aelin continued, "I mean it. I was pleased to see both of you today. I was also pleased to see Robyn smiling so much." she concluded, looking the little one in the face.

Rowan took a deep breath, bracing himself, "No, I meant, we're not a couple. We're not gay. He's her uncle."

The woman's blonde eyebrows shot up and a second later she turned almost as red as the dress Robyn was wearing as Lorcan shook his head muttering something very much like 'you're no fun', which made Robyn giggle.

"Why did you even get off the car?" he asked him exasperated.

Lorcan shrugged, "Because I missed my little bean, you monster." he replied, clutching Robyn to his chest. The little girl clutched Lorcan's shirt in her chubby little hands and Rowan huffed, shaking his head.

Aelin brought her hands to her face, leaning against the desk behind her. She shook her head, her face still hidden, "Oh, god. I'm so sorry."

Lorcan let out a dry laugh, "Don't worry about it. It was fun while it lasted." then he turned to Rowan again, who was still trying to recover from the idea of being involved in a relationship with his friend, "You're really no fun."

"Yeah, no fun dad." repeated Robyn.

Silence fell over the class. Rowan looked at her with wide eyes and blinked once, twice. Robyn was staring at him with a sweet scowl that mimicked so much that of the man who was still holding her, but Rowan couldn't get over the fact that his daughter had spoken while Aelin was still beside them.

He was about to talk, noticing how Robyn had started squirming in Lorcan's arms, when there was a knock at the door.

They both turned, Aelin peering over Rowan's shoulder, and saw the figure of a petite girl with black hair and eyes standing in the doorway, watching them with her head slightly bent to the side. She had a tag on her t-shirt that was too colourful to belong to someone who didn't work in a school with children, so he guessed she was a teacher herself. Besides, Rowan felt like he'd seen her elsewhere. Probably every day when he picked Robyn up from school, he said to himself.

"I know you're not supposed to eavesdrop but I stopped by earlier and heard you were a couple of dads," she said by way of introduction. "I just wanted to reassure you that the school is an extremely safe place. I'm the one who did most of the interviews with the parents," that's where they had met then, "and one of the questions that is asked is just about the tolerance of the people who will be attending the school."

Aelin watched her, remaining silent the whole time and putting on an amused smile, nodded, "That's what I was telling them. How tolerant the school is. They make such a cute couple, don't you think, Elide?"

Rowan turned to her, arching an eyebrow, silently asking her what she was doing. The woman, as if she could truly understand what he was trying to convey to her, nodded her head towards Lorcan, who Rowan only then noticed was standing weirdly, his eyes fixed on the woman in the doorway.

He grinned, deciding to take his revenge right away. "Oh, yes. Thank you so much for the reassurance," Rowan began to play along as well. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lorcan turn towards him, dropping Robyn to the floor, who made a disapproving noise at being dumped so suddenly. "We are happy to know that this school is a safe place for our daughter. And for us."

Elide offered him a blinding smile, "Good. I'm happy to hear that you are pleased so far. And I am happy that Aelin is the one who is taking your daughter's class. She's the best one here."

Rowan didn't know her yet, but he knew the thing Elide had just said could only be true.

"Well," she said again, giving them an apologetic smile, "I really must go now, but if you need anything, you can find all my contact details on the website. Have a nice day!"

Aelin and Rowan said their goodbyes, thanking her. Lorcan took a while to recover, but when he realised he was staring into empty space he ran towards the door, almost stepping on little Robyn, who was moved by Aelin.

"We are very much not gay, miss!" he shouted into the hallway. Aelin, now beside him and with a hand on Robyn's shoulder, cackled. With Lorcan's infinite luck, someone walked by just then and gave him a stern look. "Oh, shut up ma'am. I'm an ally. The best ally."

Rowan shook his head as Lorcan launched himself in pursuit of the poor teacher and burst out laughing when he heard him shout, "I'm not homophobic! I'm willing to suck someone's cock if I have to prove it to you!"

Aelin opened her mouth wide before bursting out laughing in turn.

Robyn, seeing both adults so happy, giggled too and Rowan bent down to pick her up. The little girl laid her full head of white-light hair on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

She was tired and Rowan really needed to get her home to sleep.

He glanced at Aelin and reduced his lips to a thin line, "I'm sorry about the commotion, I'll try not to bring him into the building again. Even if it means tying him to the seat."

The soft laugh she gave made something tighten in his chest. He frowned.

Aelin didn't seem to notice the effect she had on him, "Don't worry, Elide is crazy about fools like him. If he says the right things, we might start seeing each other outside of school too."

Rowan nodded, now too caught up in the thought of having to take Robyn home to focus on anything else.

They agreed on when to hold the parent-teacher meeting and then he grabbed Robyn's backpack, walking towards the exit.

He was thoughtless as he reached into his pocket for his keys and balanced everything else - including the girl - on his other arm, but when Robyn's hand brushed his cheek, he looked down and his eyes met their twins. Green against green.

"What is it?"

The little girl's voice never stopped making him smile. Each time was like the first time she had said dada.

"I really like her."

Rowan frowned, "Who?"

"Miss Aelin." she whispered, almost as if she was afraid they might hear her.

He smiled at her, "Yeah? You like her?"

"She's nice to me."

Rowan had to put her down as he opened the door and let her get into the back seats by herself.

"I'm glad she's treating you well, love," he let her know, buckling her in.

He hoped she'd tell him more about her new teacher, but like any kid her age, the topic of conversation couldn't last for more than four lines apiece, "Where's Uncle Lorcan?"

Rowan snorted, "No idea, little bird."

Robyn nodded, "Elide is pretty too."

And as if those words had summoned him, Lorcan appeared beside the car, making them both scream. He entered the car in a heartbeat and turned to his daughter, who was still settling into the seat. "Do you know Miss Lochan?"

But before she could answer him, Rowan had entered the car in turn and smacked the back of his head, which made the Robyn giggle, "You're not using my daughter as your wingman. Now stop it and buckle up."

Lorcan gave him a gentle push, before doing as he was told and for once he was happy he'd convinced him to do something.

Or at least, Rowan thought he had convinced him.

"What if I left you a note to deliver to Miss Lochan, Rob? Would you be up for it?"

Rowan knew, even without looking at her, that she was nodding emphatically.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he murmured, "Could you stop calling my daughter Rob, please? You'll give her an existential crisis."

Lorcan clicked his tongue against his palate, "Rowan, I'm not giving her a damn thing. We live in this new world, okay? Your daughter could be called Simon and still be a beautiful princess. Grow up and educate yourself before you talk shit."

"Aaaah!" shouted Robyn, "Bad word!"

Rowan sighed and shook his head, but still he was smiling.

This was his life. Had been for the past two years.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @hellasblessed @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @terrible-and-proud @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses @rhysandswingspan @tanvee1231

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin fic #fluff #rowaelin month day ten

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lakesbian · 3 months ago

Text

ok im here to real thoughts post now. that panel and this arc in general were great yeah. i guess i should start with talking about juwan since it Is his arc? (<- here for eunyung my beautiful princess with a disorder). i mentioned this in another post earlier but it was really good to see this specific brand of miserable housewife & overbearing mother being portrayed as An Actual Person instead of just The Bitch (TM) for our Male Protagonist (TM) to deal with. sopping her in milk thumping her against the wall etc. my little meow meow. sorry im getting away from the point here. and also not actually talking about juwan. talking about women again.

the type of reconciliation story juwan and his mother had did have potential to feel apologetic towards parents who do not view their children as autonomous people but it swerved the pitfalls really nicely. we see her backstory as an explanation of how the dysfunctional environment arose rather than as a defense. haejoon's perspective is treated as being understandable without being objectively correct. her change in behavior isn't predicated on juwan having to be responsible for finding a 'better' way to communicate. and it ends with a representation of the complicated emotions that it's common to have with mothers like juwan's--he loves her, he understands why she was the way she was, he wants their relationship to improve/to see her, and he also is thrilled to be away from her and doesn't want to see her at all. the all-night crying over how he misses her and then the subsequent immediate mood change to elation at being away from her is like. so so real.

i also really liked the dynamics juwan had w/ eunyung and haejoon over him being the Normal kid in the house. like his mother is still someone he can be happy to see bring him fruit for their fridge you know? it's repairable. in 6 years he could be getting off from work and choosing to call her solely because it's nice to talk to her. for him it would be easier to buy all new clothes than to put up w the fight in the house. eunyung and haejoon don't have any of that.

i really liked the scene where juwan is like Ok we agree eunyung is nuts and we're not talking to him anymore right ? Shouldn't we get him kicked out ? and the next panel illustrates a gray void of silence appearing between haejoon and juwan. because haejoon is a kid who understands how precarious life can be & would never ever get eunyung kicked out, and juwan is a kid who has a home and family and does Not understand that insecurity. feels well done because they do get along and haejoon genuinely likes him but there's those moments where haejoon's just like. "yeah this guy is living in a different world than me." i liked how that whole dynamic contributed to eunyung's trauma meltdown this episode too.

and saving the most special for last. eunyung was awesome this arc, even better than in her own arc. i think the most affecting character moment in the story so far has been the two panels where eunyung visibly realizes that haejoon is distracting her while juwan searches her room. bc it means that none of her behavior in that convo was bullshitting, she was just genuinely excited and happy that haejoon invited her to have tea. there was at some point the question to be had of "does she actually Like him or does she just not want him to leave her" but like. She likes him so much. It's obvious. And she's in that situation via a torment chamber of her own making bc she was the one hiding juwans belongings like a fucking squirrel burying acorns, but she was so excited, and then her little heart snapped :').

and her whole meltdown of. "i want haejoon to stay > i don't understand why he's staying when hes seen how awful i am, it might be because he wants to get revenge? > i will lash out partially to prove this & partially because i feel hurt by him over the shit i made up about his motives in my head > now he's triggering me by dismissing/scoffing at my behavior > i hope you die fuck this whole gay earth" IS SO GOOD. and that's not even getting into how normalboy juwan's presence is affecting her. but she really says it all in that one panel where it's like. haejoon is like hey you know i Told him to search your room so get mad at me also ? and she's like [rolling her eyes] that's stupid Hes not the one i robbed and stabbed. she's Herself at home but she can't handle interacting w juwan as herself because relatively minor interactions make her feel judged or looked down upon or wronged to the point where she goes crisismode. haejoon is the only one she feels like she's wronged enough that he has a right to confront her, and having a Normal Boy intruding on the first vaguely comfortable dynamic she's ever had w someone who knows Her (& not the mask) is turning her into the jokerrrr. it's really good. im glad 4 her that at the end she believed haejoon that he's not there for revenge...it's so deeply unwell slash cute that the only way she knows how to show appreciation is leaving him breakfast. today's sandwich is titled "PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME" with a tall glass of "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE" on the side.

as for eunyung egg plausibility so far. i think the misery and anger and disillusionment shes constantly roiling in is very eggy. i think she has never once come off as attached to being a boy. blah blah boys can like pink whatever but it is Adorable how much she blatantly loves pink. that's her special color. and it's nuts that she kept paralleling and getting placed in the role of juwans mother????? Diversity win she got compared to a miserable mentally unwell housewife. AND CAN WE DISCUSS HER CUTE BANDAGES. IM SO SAD SHE WONT RIDE THE MOPED AGAIN SO WE DONT GET TO SEE HER IN HER PINK STAR HELMET. can she just wear it around the house for fun. For me.

i need to post real thoughts on the last arc before istart the next one but the most pressing question of all is: will eunyung ever learn to like literally anyone who isnt haejoon

#no home lb

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whump-a-la-mode · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I ask for a continuation to the supervillain finds drugged and terrified villain on doorstep? Maybe (idk where you’d wanna take it but ig this is just a suggestion) sorta fluff but the villain is terrified of supervillain? Idk where im getting at lmao just write what you wanna write and have fun with it :)

Of course! Thank you both for the asks. I loved that prompt and found it really cute. This one has about the same balance of fluff and angst as the first part, so I really hope you enjoy!

Continued from here.

CW//Medical mentions, past trauma, past drowning, past torture, injuries, food

The medics had left far too quickly.

At least, that was Supervillain's impression of the situation. Only perhaps half an hour after they had been called, their medical team had arrived in full force. Upon the injured villain they had swarmed like flies, with stethoscopes and thermometers and tools that their boss had no clue at all how to identify.

And then, they were gone. The leader of the team made a full report on Villain's injuries, and the care that they would require. Strangulation wounds, malnutrition, half-healed frostbite, and, of course, the beginnings of hypothermia had all stricken the heroes' victim.

But, so the leader had stated, none of these afflictions would require hospitalization. In fact, hospitalization would have likely produced a more negative outcome. With weakened lungs, on account of repeated and merciless strangulation attempts, even the most common of hospital-borne respiratory illnesses could send them to the grave. After all, the whole purpose of a hospital was for it to be full of sick people.

That was all that they had said, before piling up into their emergency response vehicle and leaving the premises.

Leaving Supervillain alone with nothing but a page of written instructions, and a half-dead Villain upon their couch.

Would it have been simple to pass the job onto a henchman? Or even better, a villain with genuine medical knowledge? Perhaps. But every last villain had scrambled off into hiding, and as smart as their henchmen were, this was not their responsibility.

It was the responsibility of a leader to take care of their sick.

And that was exactly how Supervillain had ended up in their kitchen, gingerly spreading butter of two pieces of steaming toast. Though the scent of freshly-toasted bread was nearly irresistible, the food was not for them. The whole situation had left them far too nauseous to even consider food.

But Villain was starving.

Placing down the knife into their sink with a clatter, Supervillain took the plate in one hand, and a topped-off glass of water in the other. They had taken the liberty of warming it-- though a cool glass of water may have been a mercy to some, to the pyrokinetic, it would have, in the best case scenario, caused discomfort. In the worst... Well, they didn't know.

After all, they weren't a doctor.

But, doctor or not, public enemy number one still moved gingerly across their kitchen floor, through the hallways, and all the way to the room where their new, accidental, ward had been settled. So it seemed, the medical examination they had been through had drained whatever energy that Villain had had remaining, seeing as afterwards they had immediately passed out upon the couch. Given that Supervillain was far from the kind of host to allow their guest to sleep on the couch, they had-- gently, of course-- carried them to one of the home's many spare room, and settled them upon a bed.

When Supervillain had left the room, Villain had been neatly tucked beneath the covers, snoring peacefully, if not a little shallowly.

Now, when they entered, toast and water in hand, the bed was empty. Instead, the sheets lay bare, blanket torn away.

They soon discovered why. As slight as the movement was, it was not difficult to tell that the blanket laid in a corner was breathing. The slightest flutter of sympathy danced within their chest-- why was their ward hiding?

"Villain?" They did their very best to make their voice quiet, hospitable, even though they were neither of those things. "I brought food. Are you hungry?"

There was no reply.

Supervillain realized in that moment that, throughout Villain's entire, brief, stay in the home, they had yet to speak a single word. Come to think of it, actually, they had hardly even been awake earlier. Though the medics hadn't believed a blood test to be necessary, the effects of heavy sedation were rather obvious.

This was the first time that Villain was awake, and they had awoken alone. Dammit.

With a soft clack, they set the plate and the glass upon a bedside table, moving towards the shuddering blanket in the corner. The combination of wool socks and carpeted floor made their footsteps almost silent, leaving the room quiet as they knelt down before the blanket. Up close, it was rather simple to see the form of the villain that had hidden themself beneath it.

As much as they would have liked to leave Villain alone and to their own devices, according to the doctor's words, 'they won't be able to survive on their own for a while.' They would need a caretaker, and, through chance alone, Supervillain had wound up in that role.

They grabbed the bottom of the blanket first, about where Villain's feet would be, and gently began to drag it off of their form. As soon as their head was uncovered, they stopped, leaving the fleece to protect the rest of their body.

Anyone could tell that Villain had been crying, sobbing, even. Half of their face was covered in dried tears, cheeks red and eye whites a similar color. As soon as their face was revealed, they struggled to cover it with their hands, revealing the shivering in their limbs.

"Hey, hey." Supervillain reached a hand slowly forth, but stopped short of actually laying it upon Villain, believing that that likely wouldn't aid in their terrified state. "You're okay. I know you're scared, I know. But you escaped. You... You can tell me how you did that later. But you're safe, now. You're in my house.

It's me. It's Supervillain."

That only served to send another wave of terrified shivering through their body, as though they had been struck by a cane.

"If you don't want to talk, I won't make you, okay? But you're hurt. Will you at least drink some water?"

It was as though an emotional grenade had gone off.

In an instant, Villain curled in on themself, burying their face in their knees and curling almost to a fetal position.

"No no no no please no- Please, no. Please let me breathe please I'll behave please not the water please please please no no no."

Supervillain stopped, and noted with a start something they had not made much notice of beforehand: When Villain first arrived, their upper body had been soaking wet.

Someone had tried to drown them.

"Villain." They struggled not to allow their to crack, but fury and sorrow combined were making that a nearly impossible task. "No one is going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you ever again, okay?"

From the tear-stained blanket, Villain lifted their head, shaking, pinprick pupils staring up at them.

"T-Then." They sniffled. "Then why are you here?"

#villain whumpee #supervillain caretaker #hero whumper #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #whump scenario #hero villain whump #hero x villain #hero villain prompt #hero villain writing

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dickgrcyscns · 4 years ago

Text

Snowfall

Snowfall, John Carter x Female!Reader.

Summary: In which keeping a marriage secret is really difficult. Especially when the both of you are bad at secrets and it's been months of you working around everyone.

Set During: Season One

Word Count: 2,169 words

Gif used not mine!

Life was full of surprises, you had learned that pretty quickly in the emergency room. And you learned early on to take advantage of the breaks you were given, whether that be due to the weather or because one of the residents (and sometimes an attending) told you to take one. This time around it was for a reason a bit more exciting. You couldn’t help the giddy feeling that the snow elicited in you, after all you had grown up in Chicago and spent hundreds of days playing out in the snow. Staring out the window, listening to the quiet hums of the emergency room with no patients, you thought back to the days you would spend out in the snow. Often you found yourself at the Carter family home, running around in the snow with John as his grandmother stood by the window watching you guys play. It was in the snow that you realized your feelings for him. You were fourteen, rolling around in the snow after he had tackled you down to the ground. Your faces were inches apart and for a split second a part of you wanted to close the distance, press your lips against his own. But some part of you stopped that from happening then.

And looking back at it, that was one of your biggest regrets. You wished you had taken control earlier than when you did. Nothing could change anything, although, and at least you ended up with him in the end. Of course, you still kicked yourself for falling in love with your best friend. Especially since you had promised yourself that you would never do such a thing. (Then again, who didn’t make promises to themselves that would eventually fall through). Now that you two have been together since you were eighteen, and married for just over two years, everything else seemed small. All of the moments of what could have been seem minuscule in comparison to you guys actually being together.

“Y/l/n?” You turned your head away from the window, smiling at Susan who had called out your name. “We just pulled a prank on Carter and we’re about to have him find out, so if you want to come and watch.”

“I would love to do nothing more than watch this.” Standing up, you walked into the admit area and stood next to Lydia. “What did you do to him?”

“Just something fun,” Mark smiled. “You’re lucky you weren’t sleeping.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” you mumbled, waving your hand in the air. “Let’s get on with the show.”

Mark grabbed the intercom from behind him, holding it for a few seconds before he pressed the button. He let out a short laugh before speaking into it, “Doctor Carter stat trauma one, Doctor Carter stat trauma one.”

You leaned onto the counter, arms resting and holding most of your body weight as noises came out from exam room four. A smile formed on your lips when the door opened abruptly, John tumbling out from behind it with a cast on his leg. Laughing, you brought one of your hands up to cover your mouth as John walked closer to everyone standing in the room. He pointed a finger between everyone, a smile playing on his lips as he accused all of you for the cast. The finger landed on you, which made you scoff in response. “Y/n,” John said softly, “did you do this to me?”

You blinked. “No.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

“I have better things to be doing,” you shrugged. “The cast is cute though, I suggest you keep it.”

“I hate you,” John mumbled, shaking his head. “I’m guessing it was you two then?” He pointed at Susan and Mark who shared a playful look. “Can someone please take it off?”

“I agree with Y/l/n’s statement, it looks cute,” Mark smiled, patting your shoulder. “I’m not taking it off.”

“Neither am I.” Susan grabbed her mug of coffee from the admit desk, walking back to the lounge. “Have fun with that Carter!”

“Thanks!” John screamed out sarcastically, watching as everyone but you walked away from the area as if nothing was wrong. Your care-free persona shifted almost immediately, allowing your soft side to show as you looked over John’s expression. “So now you want to be sweet?”

“I can’t act normal around you,” you felt your cheeks heat up. “They would catch on.”

“And if they did?”

“I’m not sure.” Biting at your tongue, you smiled a little. You reached out to touch his cheek for a fleeting moment, quickly pulling it back before anyone around could see you two. “I would really love to kiss you right now, though.”

“Me too.”

“Snow days just remind me of when we were younger and I would come over to your grandmothers house,” you smiled softly, a chuckle leaving John’s lips. “Do you not remember?”

“Oh no, I do. You would drop by around eight in the morning,” John sat down, angrily tapping on the cast. “That time was when my grandmother was awake and I was still asleep, so you’d spend time with gamma and talk to her. But you were always there when I woke up, effortlessly beautiful. It was unfair, really.”

You leaned down, looking to make sure no one could see you before whispering in his ear, “You know, I always wanted to kiss you in the snow.”

“In the snow?” John mumbled back. “It’s a good things there's a lot of that going around.”

“Do you think they would notice if we just, I don't know, went missing?”

“Probably so,” John pursed his lips, a nod falling from his head. “Seems worth the risk though.”

“It wouldn’t kill us if they found out,” you shrugged innocently. “I mean, I’d just be kissing my husband. It’s not like we have any patients to worry about.”

“Other than myself.”

“Right, sorry. Other than John Carter who is stuck in a cast he doesn't need.”

“No one from the outside knows that,” John stood up. “For all they know, I’m injured.”

You rolled your eyes, walking towards the doors to the ambulance bay. John followed after you, smiling at the sight of the snow falling to the ground. When the cold air enveloped you, you took in a slight breath. Hugging your jacket closer to your body, you looked up at the sky. It was the kind of weather people expected in Chicago, cold and snowy. This time it had the added bonus of being December, which meant there was the possibility for a white Christmas. You loved it when it snowed at Christmas time, it just made the season feel right. John stood beside you, one of his arms resting lightly against your waist. Neither one of you moved to find a remote space, which meant neither one of you were necessarily trying to hide the relationship from the people inside. In fact, if you cared enough you probably would have noticed their faces in the windows of the lobby and the lounge.

“You know,” John mumbled into your ear, “this would be a lot more fun if we kissed right now.”

“I can think of things more fun than kissing,” you smiled, turning so your body faced his. “Too bad we’re at work right now.”

“So that's how this is going to go?”

“How?”

“With you teasing me.”

“Sure seems like it,” you nodded, a playful smirk on your lips. “I love you, did you know that?”

“Surprisingly, I don’t think I did. Did you know that I love you as well?”

“Can’t say I was aware of that fact.”

“Strange how that happens.”

“Quite.”

“Are we just going to do this until I kiss you?” John questioned as your lips came closer to each others.

“I could do this all day,” you whispered against his lips.

“I know you could,” he whispered against yours.

“Just kiss me.”

“Say no more.”

John quickly pressed his lips to yours, hands coming to cup your cheeks. You wrapped your arms around his neck, curving your body into his. When you two broke apart, you took a few seconds to open your eyes. You were content with everything in that moment. The kiss, the smile on your lips, your husband, and especially the snow that continued to fall around you. When you opened your eyes, you were met with John’s brown doe eyes staring at you. He had a boyish grin stuck on his lips as he pulled you in for another kiss and then another and then another.

“They’re bound to know now,” you laughed, pulling your arms away from his neck. “At least, they know something. We could keep the fact that we’re married away from them if you want.”

“If we don’t tell them, it’ll keep them guessing.”

“But if we do tell them, we could probably kiss more often while here.”

“This is why you’re the smarter one of the two of us.”

“I’m not surprised,” You began to pull off your coat as you walked in the doors. “I mean, I’m me and you’re you. Of course I’m the smart one.”

“I know that I said that, but it still hurts.”

“Says the one who didn’t wake up when Doctor Greene and Doctor Lewis were putting a cast on your leg,” You laughed, walking into the lounge and putting your coat in your locker. Mark and Susan shared a look, a smirk on their lips.

“So,” Mark drawled out, a brow raised. “Anything you’d like to tell us?”

“The snow is pretty,” you smiled innocently, putting your stethoscope around your neck. “Don’t you agree John?”

“Definitely, it’s very pretty,” John nodded in response. “I just love when there’s snow outside.”

“Me too.”

“Reminds me of being a kid.”

“And when we would just terrorize your parents until they yelled at us to get out,” you mumbled, pushing at John’s shoulder as the four of you walked out to the admit desk. “God, your dad hated me.”

“Your dad didn’t like me much more,” John retorted. “He really hated me after we started to date.” Your face dropped a little, a smile forming on your lips when everyone in the admit area turned towards you two. His eyes went wide for a moment as he realized what he just said. You let out a slight laugh as Carol walked into the room.

“Did you just say,” Haleh smiled, pointing a finger between you and John. “Date?”

“I,” John stumbled on his words, making you shake your head.

“John and I are married,” you shrugged, trying to divert any attention away from it. “Nothing too abnormal going on here. So, how are you guys doing?”

“Married?” Carol blinked a few times, her eyebrows drawing together as she looked between you two.

“We’ve been together since we were eighteen,” John smiled. “We got married at twenty-one.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone here?” Susan leaned back on the desk, a laugh leaving her lips. “I always thought you two had something going on though. The longing glances were getting old.”

“Personally, I thought it was cute,” Haleh laughed, shaking her head. “Carter’s puppy dog eyes were really the selling point.”

“It was Y/n’s pout that tugged at my heart,” Lydia popped in, making your cheeks flame. “Seriously, all she had to do was jut out her bottom lip and Carter would do anything she wanted.”

“We should have realized this a while ago,” Connie laughed.

"Don’t hold it against yourselves. Honestly, we should have told everyone from the get-go. It’s not like it changes everything for us.”

“You two are cute together,” Carol smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder. She paused, turning back towards you with a wide grin. “Can we see your ring?”

“What?”

“Your ring, can we see it? You don’t wear it on your finger.” Carol grabbed at your hand, holding it in front of your own face.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You grabbed at the chain around your neck, unclasping it so you could take your rings off of it. Sliding them on, you smiled a little at them. Your engagement ring was his great-grandmothers, you always found yourself staring at it. Each time you found something new about it: a different knick on the metal on the ring. Each time you often wondered about how it got there. Carol took hold of your hand again once the rings were on it, eyes wide and a smile growing.

“How’d you afford this Carter?”

“Family heirloom,” John mumbled, running his hand across the back of his neck. “I definitely wouldn’t be able to afford a diamond that large.”

You bit back a laugh (because the both of you could buy hundreds of diamonds that size if you wanted to), “Not at all.”

At least the snowfall did one good thing (other than stopping the E.R. from constant use), you and John didn’t have to hide anymore.

#john carter #John Carter x reader #John Carter imagine #John Carter er #susan lewis #mark greene #Doug ross #Carol Hathaway #emergency room #e.r.#nbc er

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cryptiql · 4 years ago

Text

riptide

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, some mildly suggestive flashbacks + detailed descriptions of drowning. as always, please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 4.9k

a/n: welcome to the sequel of smoke signals. perish :)

dabi made a mistake. the knowledge sits in the bottom of his stomach like a lump of lead; his innards twisting into a knot whenever the memory of you crosses the expanse of his sleep deprived mind. the burns under his eyes might as well be bags, but they aren't large enough to bear the weight of his guilt. it isn't much better sitting on his shoulders, but the repercussions of pain are what keep him from letting it go, and that's exactly what he wants. no—it's what he deserves. he deserves the feeling like his head is going to burst; the ache in his spine from too many hours spent hunched over himself with a bottle clutched between his shaking hands; the burning intensity from overuse of his quirk. the extra inches of marred skin serve as reminders of what he did, but it's not half as satisfying when the pain doesn't last.

he wants to scratch at the wounds until they ooze that bitter garnet liquid; until he's suffocated by the metallic scent and forced to endure as the taste of blood engraves itself on his tongue when he chokes on it. he wants to suffer—the slower the better—because not even the strongest alcohol can cleanse his sins, nor the stench of his regret.

dabi made a mistake. it won't be the last time, he's able to admit, because his ego is too shriveled from the lack of your warmth, and his heart yearns for the passion of your kiss that still lingers on his lips. when the loft echoes with fragments of the city's ambience, drowning him in an incessant racket, he longs for the lighthouse. this place is infested with selfish ingrates, scuttling about in search of the next outcast to torment, and it makes him wish he still had that safe space at the shore. your siren song was a drug to put him at ease, and now he is without it, and the withdrawal has taken effect.

he knew this would come to pass. dabi overdosed on your love; your affection; your everything; all while watching the consequences unravel at a snail's pace, almost as if he were being teased by the inevitable end. he let it happen. he did this to himself, so he won't shake his hands at the sky, cursing gods he doesn't know exist; as if they would concern themselves with the faults of men like him.

he knew this would happen.

but then, so did you. you had to have known by the empty space in your bed where he used to lay; by the dates that kept getting postponed and the meaningless promises made to make up for them; by the shortage of visits, even just to say "hello" before he dropped from the face of the earth once more. if this were true, it meant that you were suffering just the same—nay, more than him, by forcing yourself into a state of compliance whenever he told you it was time for him to go. dabi could pretend like he didn't see your fingers twitching; resisting the urge to reach out for him; just as he could pretend like the rivulets of tears on your cheeks did not exist, though they begged to be swept away by him. god, he wants to hold your face again, noses brushing together and your dreamy sighs melding with his raspy laughter.

he had told himself that you wouldn't deter him from his goal, but even that seems like a pipe dream now. he feels like an underachiever, chasing a future that can't be set in stone when he already had you, which should have been enough. dabi realizes that the flames of his own passionate desire for freedom have burned you in the process, and it hurts more than he can put into words. you were always better with words, he reminisces, tracing the coffee stained parchment sitting in his pocket.

dabi has long since stopped reading the letters you sent, but he still carries them with him wherever he goes. they anchor him to both earth and sky; the reality that he's lost you, threatening to swallow him from under his feet; and the hope that he'll find you again, one day, after all this is over. "and just what do you think you're doing?"

you can see his reflection in the stove's glass sheen, his mouth drawn up into a devious smirk as he leans on the bedroom doorframe, clad in nothing but his briefs from the previous night. the purplish burns scaling his collarbone and abdomen give him a roguish look that—if you possessed no self-restraint—would normally have you lunging at him like a starved beast. you manage to smirk back at him, subtly shaking your hips while opening the stove door to pull out the doughy mound of bread inside. to your delight, you hear him grumble something not-so family-friendly before he snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. you had never once thought that the feeling of staples against your skin would feel so good, but now you can hardly imagine being without it, and you immediately melt into dabi's touch.

he breathes softly in your ear, chuckling when you flinch in response, goosebumps stippling your flesh. by the way your cheeks puff out in embarrassment, he should take that as a sign to stop, but fuck, your pouting is just too cute for him to resist, especially when your worship-able body is basking in the afterglow of dusk. you keen when dabi starts peppering your shoulder blades with kisses, but nearly dropping the pan causes your senses to return, and you whisper a plea. luckily, he appears to be in a merciful mood, because he relents his onslaught of affection to rest his chin in the crook of your neck.

when he finally notices what you're making, he can't help but squeeze you tighter.

"is that a cake?"

you turn to give him a peck on the nose, which is rewarded with a halfhearted snap of his teeth just millimeters from your mouth.

"that'd be right. though, i'm astonished you know which way is up after last night." your sing-song tone of voice spurs him to squeeze your thigh, and you would have shooed him away if not for how much you liked it. dabi murmurs something unintelligible, the vibrations shooting straight down your spine, and proceeds to remove himself from you in order to better observe the baked delicacy.

"mm. what's it for?" he asks, discretely swiping a bit of the pink colored icing from the bowl to his right. sweet, but not sickeningly so.

you are none the wiser when dipping a spatula into the contents and smoothing it over the cake, a soft smile playing at your lips.

"you never told me when your birthday is, so i'm taking a wild guess. figured i'd whip this up as a surprise, but you woke up earlier than i suspected." dabi swears that his heart is about to burst from behind his ribcage, and all because you're too goddamn perfect. you may as well be a priceless work of art in museum that he's been prohibited from touching. however, the fading marks on your skin signify that he's done more than just touch, and he takes pride in the fact you can't seem to move further than two steps in any direction without faltering.

"i know angel food cake is your favorite—" dabi silences you with a kiss; bruising and passionate; and takes the spatula from your hand, blindly setting it aside on the counter. your protests are short-winded as he lifts you from your behind before promptly turning the oven off and spinning on his heel. he's memorized these halls well enough to not bump into anything during his trek back to the bedroom. you pull away, albeit with a hint of reluctance, just to glare at him.

"what about the—" dabi kisses you again, and while you don't seem too happy about being interrupted twice in a row, the shared heat between your bodies distracts you from being upset.

"you're off by about two months, doll. besides, i think i'd much rather have you as a late birthday treat."

dabi clenches his jaw at the memory, his knuckles whitening with how tenaciously he grips the tattered fabric of his jeans. the league's new base is just as rundown and close to crumbling as he feels, but his despair is masked by the rage that overpowers it. why couldn't you have been a normal couple? why couldn't dabi have grown up with a father who loved him; with a quirk that didn't gradually destroy him and without the resulting scars that made him a hideous monster in the eyes of all who saw him? why couldn't he be as beautiful on the inside as you said he was on the outside? why couldn't he just be happy, after all this time?

why? why? why?

dabi finds his answer hidden in the ashen battleground strewn with rubble and remnants of burnt remains. he finds it in the fear of his victims' expressions before the snare of death claims them in a flourish of blue inferno. it's written there in bold, ichor dripping from his fingers as they smear the message with red.

the privilege of living a normal life is, and always will be, beyond his reach. murder does not warrant mercy, and the only person willing to give it to him is miles away, still desperate for him to come back.

as fate would have it, you and dabi lived worlds apart, but you still look at the same sunset; the same array of stars forming constellations that told stories of your life shared together. they replay in his head like a record stuck on repeat, and only when the song ends does he find himself back in the clutches of his childhood trauma, rather than your embrace.

"dabi? dabi!" his trademark scowl automatically takes place when a finger prods and pulls at his cheek, the familiar voice of twice shaking him from his deep contemplation. jin has been so unfortunate as to suffer minor scorches from the ravenette's flames, on account of him being too bothersome at the wrong moments, and so he instantly backs away at the first indication of danger brewing in the air around him. with how on edge he's felt lately, he really should have gone on a walk to relieve some stress, but the looming knowledge that he can't go to the lighthouse would only ruin the trip.

dabi is fully prepared to smack jin's hand away until he sees what he's holding. he'd recognize that handwriting anywhere, and even without it, the scent of saltwater and freshly baked bread clings to the paper, altering him of yet another one of your efforts to communicate with him. dabi feigns indifference towards the object; quite the contrary to his thinning patience as twice waves it above his head excitedly.

"you've got mail! who's is from? probably a useless nobody! or maybe a secret admirer? but who would admire you?"

to his dismay, the commotion has grabbed toga's attention, and she veers over to their location with a giddy grin on her face. she all but drapes herself over dabi as he snatches the letter from jin, and it doesn't help his struggle when she clings to him like a koala. after a bout of kicking and shoving, he manages to break free of her grasp, grimacing at her lengthy, high-pitched whines of disapproval.

"and can you believe hawks was the one to deliver it? i didn't take him for a carrier bird. . ."

dabi doesn't hear the rest, nor does he intent to, because he's already making his way to the nearest exit with haggard breaths. whoever calls out for him and whatever they say are the last of his concerns right now, and they're abruptly cut off when he slams the door behind him. the summer heat wills beads of sweat to paint his forehead, but he soon finds comfort under the shade of a tree, cicadas buzzing noisily overhead. he would sooner keel over and die than thank the birdbrain hero for catering to him—and by extension, you—but now that the note is there, begging to be read, he can't help but feel some sort of gratitude.

"i need you to do something for me."

the bristles of hawks' feather hover over dabi's pulse in a threatening manner, but he feels no more in peril than he would at the cruelty of a baby chick. he knows the number two hero won't harm him, at least not without regretting it later, and this is the perfect time to use that to his advantage. hawks narrows his eyes at him, nose wrinkling in accord.

"why would i do anything for you after that stunt you pulled?" he snarls, and dabi almost has to laugh at the drastic switch in personality. the way he presents himself to the public is a true contrast compared to the persona only he and the league have had the pleasure of seeing.

"because if you don't, everyone will know you've been fraternizing with the enemy, and we wouldn't want number two falling off his high pedestal, now would we?"

this time, dabi audibly laughs when hawks' guise wavers. the other grits his teeth, slowly withdrawing the feather and allowing it to fall limp at his side. he revels in his victory, short though it be, and reaches into his pocket to procure a letter marked with your name and address. putting your location at the disposal of a hero isn't something he's proud of doing, but it's all he has left, and he doesn't have the resolve to tell you directly.

coward, his conscious mocks as he holds it out for hawks to take. the winged man stares at it with befuddlement, his movements stalling here and there when he seizes the paper between his thumb and pointer finger. dabi tuts lightly but menacingly, yanking hawks towards him by the wrist and igniting his quirk to leave a faint mark there.

"you're gonna deliver this for me, no questions asked. don't you dare open it."

despite the clear uncertainty, hawks took heed of the ominous demand and carried it out later that night. he had not expected a young man with tear-stained cheeks to greet him at the door, much less the endless babble of 'thank you's as you took the letter with shaking hands.

dabi hadn't wished for you to send one back, but the ongoing stream of them was considered fair, after he'd left without much of a trace. still, he had promised himself that he would never read them, for fear of it opening the wound inflicted by having to say goodbye.

dabi can't understand the sudden change of mind for the life of him, and yet, he finds that he doesn't care whether it opposes every rule he set to keep you safe—to keep himself safe. he tears open the envelope and slumps against the tree trunk, bark and leather grating together as he hesitantly unfolds the parchment, briefly shutting his eyes as a last act of resistance to the helpless cry from within; longing for the familiarity of your poetic words. instead of the delicate precision that was to be anticipated, dabi stared down at your messy scrawl, a carnal fear rising from within and causing his throat to clamp up. the memories begin to flash at a faster rate, like an old-timey picture film. dabi has just finished putting the kettle on to boil when hears the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of your slippers shuffling across the floor. he snickers, remembering that the only pair you have is the one he bought you; a well worn match that looks oddly like cloud bunnies. you've made sure to exemplify how much you love the gift by wearing them around the house on rainy or lazy days, all paired with a wistful smile. this morning is no different as you worm your way under dabi's hold and press your face into his chest, a satisfied groan escaping you when he cards his fingers through your hair and scratches the scalp.

the robe you wear is half-hanging from your shoulders, which makes for an enticing view from where dabi stands, but he simply kisses the crown of your head and continues waiting for the pot to simmer.

"did you hear that noise?" you slur, just barely discernable over the kettle's shrieking. dabi quirks a brow in question as you rub the leftover grogginess from your eyes, tiredly nodding at the back window.

"little past midnight, i think. coulda sworn i heard somethin' rifling around in the trash." dabi squints at this new information while eyeing your appearance. the dark circles and intermittent yawning indicate a lack of sleep, and if he weren't there to keep you steady, you might collapse onto the floor as a snoring heap. if it really disturbed him, he should have woken me up, he thinks, pulling you closer with an ever-deepening frown. you snuggle up to him as if it's second nature, sleepily giggling away when his digits stray too close to your side.

"s'probably raccoons, but if you're worried, i can stay longer just to make sure." you look up at him with nothing short of pure, unbridled adoration, cupping his face and squishing it gently, to your own entertainment. after a moment of consideration, you shake your head.

"nah, you're probably right."

the feeling hits dabi like a tidal wave, dragging him below the raging surface; far below where the light of day cannot touch. it suffocates him and brings rise to the sickening taste of bile on his tongue, but he doesn't have time to spare in throwing it all up, so he swallows it. withered patches of grass crunch under his feet as he peels himself from the tree and breaks into a dash, sparing your letter the flames fueled by his anguish as to let it drift in the breeze, the single sentence written on it already engraved in his mind.

it wasn't raccoons.

dabi doesn't care what shigaraki will have to say about this when he gets back. the only thing he cares about is that you'll still be alive to say anything to him when he reaches you, and that whoever has invaded your home is willing to die for what they've done, or what they're currently doing, and fuck—he isn't even sure if this is you calling for help or not, but he can't risk being right.

the distance between the base and the lighthouse feels lightyears apart, yet simultaneously at arms length when dabi is running at speeds he hasn't ever been able to achieve before. if he stumbles at any point during his sprint, or if he happens to bump into an unsuspecting civilian on the street, he doesn't notice. the resonant thumping of his own heartbeat is all that he can hear as he thanks the gods for the flow of traffic being so spaced out, otherwise it would be near impossible for him to reach you in time.

in time for what? he has to ask. dabi doesn't even want to think about the repercussions, but the scenarios arrive in rivulets despite the mental trapeze he goes through to push them down, and they only continue to grow into oceans; darker, colder and harboring thoughts too gruesome for even someone of his caliber to handle. he won't realize until much later that he'd forgotten to put on his disguise, but the way people ogle at him with fear and disgust does not suppress the need to protect you.

even now, he can sense the pressure building behind his eyes, though it's more painful that it used to be. dabi hasn't cried in months, and it shows by how unabating the rivers of blood trickle from his skin grafts, despite his feverish attempts to stop them. look at yourself, holding together by a thread and weeping in public like a child whose lost his mother in the crowd. it wouldn't have come to this if he had stayed.

something shifts in the scenery; a distinct line drawn between the city and its neighboring countryside; but it makes no difference to the impending peril that looms ahead. the closer he gets, the sooner he'll find you waiting for him, dead or alive. dabi staggers, his breath hitching at the thought, as well as the harsh sting of pain that erupts when his knee collides with the gravel below. he pushes himself forward in little time, a strangled yell ripping his throat raw as his vision settles on the top of the lighthouse, peeking over the hillside. you have to be there—you just have to. he isn't done with you yet, and you're sure as hell not done with him.

the earth is damp beneath his feet, and it soaks through the canvas of his shoes whilst he darts past the boulevard and onto your property, crying out to you. surely, you must hear him. surely—

dabi practically hurls himself at the front door, his blood running cold when it opens for him effortlessly and swings ajar to reveal the living room, upturned and scattered with broken bits and pieces of furniture. there's no sign of you or whoever did this. the oakwood flooring groans under his weight as he barrels down the hall, peering into every room, beneath your bed and any other place where you could be hiding. nothing. his search ends in vain at the front doorstep, where he stands hunched over and dry heaving. no, no, no. you can't be gone.

"y/n!" he shouts. his only response is the crashing of waves against the shore and the incessant cawing of seagulls. for a moment, dabi forgets how to breathe, and then the ability returns to him; his legs aching horribly as he rushes to the beach. the arrangement of rocks is sporadic at first, but they gradually form large clumps the further he carries on, urging him to squeeze between the narrower openings. it comes with some difficulty, but at last he is able to hobble onto the sandy coast and rest his sights upon the vast sea. he can recall when seeing its murky blue sea would have put him at ease, but now it only causes his senses to be clouded with distress.

"y/n!" the once calm ripples rise into rolling billows that drench the shoreline in frothy heaps of algae, wreckage and blood. it curls and disbands within the ocean to pollute its cerulean hues with ones of scarlet red, and just like that, dabi's heart sinks like the titanic. he'll never forget the sight of you, face-down in the water; your favorite shirt slashed to shreds, clinging to your body as nothing more than a tattered mess. dabi wades into the water until it reaches his ankles, completely numb to its freezing temperature as he sinks down to hoist you up. he rests you on his thighs and presses his lips onto yours with urgency, shortly pulling back so that he can thrust his palms upon your chest and push. he doesn't care to remember how many times he repeats this, but when he finally sits back on his haunches to release a stifled curse, the feeling of dread has only just begun to take control.

you've never looked so pale.

a guttural sob wrenches itself past his grinding teeth as more tears arise, dappling your cheeks like raindrops. it wracks his body and sends forth a surge of agony to course through his veins. dabi cups your face with a shaking hand, the other secured around your waist while he kisses you, his erratic pleas falling upon deaf ears.

"come back. . .come back." his bawling ceases to end, no matter the abrasive pain blossoming in his gullet.

"c'mon, doll. where's that sweet voice of yours?" his thumb strokes your bottom lip as though beckoning you to speak. when nothing follows, he makes a pathetic sniveling sound mixed with something broken; a blubber or whine, he does not know. the burden of your lifeless form causes the reality to set in; a dagger piercing his insides and twisting as to drag the most blood-curdling screams from him.

dabi loved you, and he wishes he had the strength to say it when you were still there. it was only within the presence of his own demons that he was able to utter his affections; curled into himself and waiting for a reply that would never come, carried on the wind that bit his skin. he loved you because you held him like a child when his father hadn't even the heart to acknowledge him as his own. you spoke his name—his real name—as though the blood on his hands was not there; like you had washed it away yourself through acts of tenderness that he did not deserve.

and now you're gone.

you're gone, and—

dabi's entire body jolts with a start, a familiar heat dancing across the grafts of his marred skin. a faint blue glow radiates from his fists, which are tightly fastened the weighted blanket that lays crumpled atop his legs. he lets go with a shuttering gasp, observing the black smudges that reside where his flames once were, then blinking owlishly at his surroundings. the room is shrouded in darkness, all save for the bedside table to the left of him that is dimly lit by a flickering oil lamp. that, and the spaces illuminated by the moon's brilliance, showering the floor with multicolored spots as it glistens through the stained glass window. something slots into place, but all it does is send dabi's mind into overdrive.

where is he? where are you? are you really dead? everything hurts.

his nails drag down the length of his arms, seeking some sort of comfort in the pain that blooms there. it doesn't last long, however, when the bed suddenly dips, and a soothing warmth is placed on the small of his back.

"touya?" you croak, your words lingering with the remnants of sleep. dabi—no—touya, swears that he could cry again, right then and there. his eyes flit over your torso, where several scars in varying sizes have desecrated the skin. as he idly traces the pink lines, one final memory surfaces from the depths of his subconscious. him, desperately pounding your sternum; the last threads of denial snapping in tune; and you, coughing and spewing both curses and whatever seawater that had clogged up your lungs. touya held you in that same position for hours, listening as your ragged wheezing turned into hiccupping sobs. hauling you inside had been no easy feat, and having to hear your muffled groans while he stitched you up by the crackling hearth was no better, but the evening after had been pleasant.

you could not recollect the face of the intruder, and with such little information to go off of, touya was left to wallow in self-loathing for love he had almost lost. no amount of therapy could prevent the following nightmares and panic attacks, but in time, the rekindling of your relationship was proved successful, and dabi was prepared to repay you for the moments where you consoled him.

it wasn't just a dream. it had all happened, and yet here you were, alive and well.

a pensive look crosses your features when you note how quiet touya is, and you take it as a sign to break the tension with a tried-and-true method from the past. he doesn't resist as you coo softly, pulling him under the covers and wrapping yourself around him, a garbled tune fleeing from past your lips before you press them to his shoulder. you trail the faintest of butterfly kisses along his neck, his jaw, his cheeks and so on. the anxiety coiled in touya's chest starts to untangle, leaving him as a trembling bundle of nerves in your arms as you shush him, your nimble fingers carting through his hair.

if he weren't so tired, he would have laughed at how the tables have turned; with you cradling him in the way he's so used to doing. still, not even he can deny that it feels nice to be held like this.

"s'alright sweetheart. i'm here. . ." you whisper, and the effect is instantaneous. touya stills as he inhales the scent of buttercream and fresh pine that wafts into the bedroom, his eyelids fluttering shut. all he can hope for is that your presence will drive away any nightmares that foreshadow his well-needed rest, and that when he wakes up in the morning, you'll still be at his side.

dabi made a mistake, and thousands more will come to pass, because underneath the grit and grime that makes up his callous exterior, there is a human being; struggling to survive and struggling to please, just as much as the next. but he'll never leave you again. he had promised you as such with the band of gold now encircling your ring finger, and as long as he lives, he'll never break it.

#⛓.dabi #dabi x male reader #dabi x reader #anime x male reader #mha x male reader #touya todoroki x male reader #my hero x reader #my hero x y/n #boku no hero x reader #x male reader #bnha x you #dabi fluff #dabi angst #dabi imagine

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kyotakumrau · 4 years ago

Text

GIGS No519 Interview 京 [Voice]

GIGS 2021 JUN released on April 27th (interview itself was done on April 6th)

The last solo interview is with Kyo. In the previous interviews, all band members from the music instrument squad all mentioned ‘simple’ in reference to Oboro. Yet how did he perceive the song and what feelings were put into the lyrics? Let’s discuss it thoroughly.

The most important thing is that I want to be able to let out honestly what I want express, what I see, what I felt or thought that one moment.

text: Yukinobu Hasegawa photos: Reishi Eguma translation: kyotaku (pls let me know if you see any mistakes!)

You can get GIGS 6月号 on Amazon Japan or HMV or CDJapan or TOWER RECORDS or other shops!

――It shows in the footage enclosed in the deluxe and first press editions of ‘Oboro’ that the songwriting for the new album started quite some time ago.

京 I was probably working on various things without thinking about a single, so I don’t really remember when was it. I’m working on songs aaaaaaaall the time (laughing). I don’t really grasp when each song was done or which one will become a single, so honestly speaking I don’t really know.

――You’re also doing sukekiyo. I have many chances to speak with sukekiyo members and they were surprised that ‘Kyo will be sending new songs ideas or melody anytime’ (laughing). Is your pace of coming up with ideas as high with DIR EN GREY?

京 On the contrary, I’m not saying much in case of DIR EN GREY. Just about ‘I’m looking forward to it’. I’m not writing songs, so upon listening to the demo of the song sent by other members I just give them my opinion like ‘how about we change it a bit like this?’ or ‘this way is good’.

――At the time you started writing songs did you already have an idea what you wanted for the next album?

京 I didn’t. Not at all, I felt I could read this and that about the album from the direction we were going from the atmosphere of the songs the members brought in earlier. In our case we often don’t have talks like ‘let’s make an album like this’. So, on the contrary I usually don’t say much about things like album image, I think we can make more irregular thing if I keep a flat position.

――So even you are looking forward to what kind of response you will have when listening to the song’s demo?

京 I am.

――Because of the spread of COVID-19 it’s hard to move around now, so how do you get input for the music, art and so on?

京 Nah, I don’t really do anything. If you ask about input... the most I do is watching various news.

――Do you feel that the things happening around you and around the world are something that drive you when you’re expressing yourself?

京 I’m sure they do. What I think when I see and feel various things, how I communicate that, it’s about that.

――The single ‘Ochita koto no aru sora’ you released last year had a digital release only thus there were no lyrics included, but fans listened to the song many times to try to understand the lyrics. As a result, I think they realized that it’s a song with a dreadful/intense message. Because lyrics include a such date as ‘㋇㏥・August the 6th’ among other things, there was a reaction also from fans around the world.

京 Frankly, I don’t check fans reactions. I don’t know what people will think after listening, but I don’t want to talk about the atomic bomb. In the end, the fighting continues, the same things keep happening again and again...like that. I think there are many issues, but there’s no right answer to them, it’s all just collisions of what we ourselves think is right and just. That’s why you can’t say that something is bad as a rule. It’s just one way of thinking, there are many ways we can look at things. For example, currently during the pandemic holding a concert is the right thing to do or not, won’t the answer and the way of thinking be different for every person? Now more than ever we got a situation when it’s very difficult to say ‘this is the way’. It’s the way I feel now seeing various things.

――Because of COVID-19 there’s a lot of hate crime against Asians in the US. It’s a crime, but the people who commit it may see it as an act of justice.

京 That’s true. There are also many other issues like the gender discrimination, in all of them Japan is seen as lagging behind. It can’t be simply denied because the situation now and in the past is different, depending on the country or culture the way people feel or think is also different. It’s a difficult issue, isn’t it?

――I think you write many lyrics that make us think about that. There’s not only grieving in ‘Ochita koto no aru sora’, there’s a positive message at the end. That really resonated with me. Do you feel like the way you express and communicate things has changed?

京 No, I don’t think anything changed.

――I’d like to talk about ‘Oboro’ now, it seems like it was a pick out of few songs. What was your impression when you listened to the original song?

京 It was like all demos felt more like the album songs than a single. It’s normal as we originally didn’t start working on them thinking about creating a single, most of the songs were intended for the album and we decided to finish one as a single. Recently we had many up-tempo singles, so I thought it would be a good idea to release a ballad, not as epic as previous ones, but a ballad that could be included on the album.

――What kind of response did you have when you listened to the original song for the first time? Talking about the lyrics, I thought that because of the pandemic it became difficult to move around, and the thoughts have turned inwards. You told me [at t an interview] some years ago that you had some traumatic events, I thought [lyrics] relate to them.

京 In terms of the worldwiev and lyrics, recently there were no lyrics directed at one person, a lot of them had a message from a very broad perspective, that’s why first thing I wanted to do was to have a narrower worldview. So when I listened to the original song and the scene emerged [in my mind], the past songs videos are very broad. This isn’t a continuation but it was a start for me to want to put something like that together. It’s not about my own trauma, it’s a narrow worldview inside a big worldview. And without using grotesque expressions, I wanted to depict various feelings like love or hatred, and wrote lyrics with that in mind.

――The past songs you mentioned were also songs that had music videos made for them at the time. I was actually watching the video and having a flashback. The pain and agony of a woman, and I dare say her feelings about her aborted baby. That’s what gives a shape [to the new song]. At the moment is your expression or the direction of what you want to bring up in your lyrics changing?

京 I don’t mean it like we all should try being positive (thinking about the future) together, but as one should think about various things, I always want to write about what we think is the right path or what is just. But as I said before, what is right varies per person. It’s something I want to write about on the next album in the future.

――In other words, like stabbing/piercing each person’s feelings?

京 Well, yes. I think I’ve been thinking like that since the last album The Insulated World, but this time I’d like to go further into that direction... I mean it’s not like I have something precise I want to convey or I want to bring up this and that. The most important thing is that I want to be able to let out honestly what I want express, what I see, what I feel or think that very moment.

――As your age and work experience accumulate, I think people’s ideas and thinking will also change. What can you think of [that has changed] in the last few years?

京 Nothing (laughing). It’s not something you know about yourself. On the contrary I want to stay without changing. To change because the world is becoming a certain way is really not like me, I was always my own type of person, so I want to continue as I am. This is something I’m saying all the time, but I hate fixed ideas, I want to be always free to express myself. But there’s not much freedom in the world nowadays. Besides the problem with COVID-19, many countries have civil wars. That’s where we learn the importance of freedom again, and I also wondered if having a lot of freedom is not justice. When you start thinking like that it messes with your head, but I want to be free just in the world of expression. I feel like this is a one right no one can take away from me.

I think the most negative thing, for fans, for the band and for me, is not being able to show our real selves at the concerts.

――Are you taking that stance now as well when you’re writing for an album?

京 Nah, I haven’t written anything yet. We’re in the early stage of pre-production, so it’s not the point where I write lyrics yet. The songs are still in the middle of being changed, so it’s like I want to see more of them. Also, most songs don’t have a melody decided for them. And what I feel and think, what I want to express, things inside of me are changing every day. I want to be able to pack as current me as possible into [the lyrics], and to put into lyrics as recent images from the songs as possible, so I haven’t decided on them yet.

――Did you write the lyrics for ‘Oboro’ just before song-writing time as well?

京 Yeah. After the length/scale of the song is mostly decided in pre-production next is a step when I’m inserting temporary lyrics and then start recording.

――You have a [recording] vocal booth at home, so did you record ‘Oboro’ deciding the vocal direction by yourself?

京 If it was different, I probably wouldn’t be singing. I don’t want to go to a studio outside (laughing).

――Do you sing creating an environment for the song’s world like getting your room all dark when recording?

京 Nah, I’m a person who doesn’t do things like that, I can do it anywhere as long as I have a vocal booth. Just, I sing when I want to sing. When using a studio from what time and until what time is decided, engineers have their schedules, so even if I’m not happy with something and want to rerecord it, it takes time to get ‘let’s listen to it’ or ‘I’m gonna organize data’. And sometimes that timing doesn’t match my own rhythm. And, there are times when I want to sing soon after waking up or want to sing when I’m anguished not being able to sleep. I value this kind of speed so I can’t record outside my house anymore.

――In ‘Oboro’, even the trembling of your throat when your voice comes out got recorded, which helps the listener to get into the song even more. What were you looking for in terms of singing?

京 It’s a bit old-fashioned, isn’t it? In the past I was singing with my emotions so my mannerism/habits would really come out hard. After that I tried to get rid of them as much as possible, and as much as possible tried singing putting emphasis on the pitch and timing. For example, when the timing of each sound in first A melody and second A melody didn’t match perfectly, I would be unhappy, but now I just sing naturally so the timing can be a bit off. I deliberately sing with the feelings that were matching the flow of the song, so I don’t record with the intention of singing perfectly.

――You absolutely prioritise the emotions?

京 That’s right. But in case of ‘Oboro’, the lyrics don’t have a worldview where the emotions get stirred up to just burst out. They are hidden inside, I thought it would be interesting to sing in a restrained way without exploding. With that point, I recorded the song with the emphasis on the flow of the song. And I think I will keep that point the same when recording the album.

――There was a time when you were thinking like drawing a blueprint with many different voice tones and the arrangement of the choruses, it was interesting for you to play tricks with them, right?

京 There was a time when I pulled that out as a part of me, but now I want to pull other parts out. Increasing the things I can pull out, if I think the approach you just described is good, I just have to drag it all out. When I listen to the album as a whole, if I think there’s not enough appeal, I’d try a more gimmicky approach. In the end I won’t be satisfied with myself. I want to keep searching for more and more new ways, not only sing the way I’ve sung before.

――You had this kind of attitude from the start. As a coupling song for the single you have a customary self-remake song. This time it’s ‘TDFF’, to listen to the original song from the past again... ah, you don’t do it. I’m shaking my head for jumping into your answer (laughing).

京 I just briefly look at the old lyrics and decide I want to keep this part, I don’t need this part and so on. To some extend in myself I’ll just extract some part and from there extend the image and add things to it.

――Is it like breathing new life into a song?

京 Nah, it’s just the 2021 version. If we redid it now it’d look like this. We wanted to keep as many good parts as possible, but there were also parts where we felt ‘here it’d have been better to go with this’, so they got changed in the current version.

――By changing the song to a newest version can you see your attitude towards the singing or your thoughts?

京 I’m always putting in the things I’m feeling at that time, so I think to an extend I can see it. But it was originally a simple song, so it was easy.

――It was also recorded in your vocal booth at your home, right? I think I’d actually like to have a peek at you singing to see what’s it like (laughing).

京 Ah, it’s a really simple booth about the size of the phone booth. There’s a small thing working as a desk and I put my computer there, singing while sitting down and using a hand-held mic. I don’t want to use a recording standard stand mic. I want to sing as much as possible the same way I sing at concerts. But there’s no space for me to stand up so I sing sitting down (laughing). But in my case, it doesn’t matter if I’m singing standing or sitting down or sleeping (laughing).

――It doesn’t really affect your concentration.

京 I usually can finish recording one song in less than 2 hours, so I think anyone can concentrate for about 2 hours (laughing).

――The 3rd song on the single is a live track. How do you feel about performing without the audience?

京 Honestly speaking the songs that require a response [from the fans] were a bit tiring, but there was no change with the songs focusing on the worldview or the songs that just explode. Doing it naturally is about doing it naturally. I haven’t listened to that live track yet, but yeah.

――But yeah (laughing). Did you choose the song that got the most votes?

京 Nah, I’m okay with any live track. Like ‘please choose whichever you want’, I leave it to the other members or the people in the company. Concert is a raw thing (=unedited, live), I had many live tracks in the past where my voice was all messed up or where I was singing cleanly. That’s why now I don’t have anything that would make me go ‘wait, this is a bit...’. I think the me from that time is packed there so anything is fine.

――You’re soon going to have a first in a while concert with the audience on May the 6th. I think you might answer ‘not at all’, but how are you approaching it?

京 Today I was at the concert film screening event in Osaka, and we talked there about the concert. And I said there that because it’s still a month away I don’t think about it (laughing). Listen, if you were told you will be having this and that for dinner in a month, you would listen with only half an ear being ‘yeah got it’ (=you’d forget it next moment) (laughing). I start thinking about it about a week before the concert. I’m not the type of person to go ‘I’ll do my best!’, I’ll just let out my honest feelings at the time.

――During the time when you didn’t have the type of space or time that is a performance with the audience, were there any moments when you started wondering ‘what are concerts?’ and so on?

京 No, there weren’t. There were moments when I felt like I’d like to do a show, but I didn’t really think about things like ‘why are we doing concerts?’ or ‘what are concerts for me?’. It’s not like all my music activities stopped, so I didn’t have a moment to think that deeply about it. If anything, rather than us I think it’s the fans who were thinking about it.

――Because for many people concerts are something they live for. Kyo, you’re looking healthy.

京 There were times when it was very hard for me mentally, I don’t know what was the reason. Now... I’m trying not to think too much about unnecessary things. I’m trying to only think about what’s in front of me or about things I’m able to do now, I’m trying not to push myself too much. I’m trying to accept myself as I naturally am. But even then, there are still things that keep piling up, making me worry endlessly. I wish I would be able to let them erupt at concerts. I think the most negative thing, for fans, for the band and for me, is not being able to show our real selves at the concerts.

#dir en grey #kyo #京 #GIGS #interview #translation

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angsty-nerd · 4 years ago

Text

Meta: Echo’s Big Fight in 3x09

Let's talk about the Big Echo fight. Because wandering around in the fandom this past week, I’ve seen a lot of very specific conclusions as far as what they were or weren't arguing about, and I’m not sure my take on that scene really aligns with other folks. So let me try to break it down a bit and give y’all an alternative perspective on it.

To start with, the scene opens with Max on edge because they're breaking and entering. Liz is singularly focused on the mission, and he's kinda freaking out. Instead of responding to his concerns, Liz gets straight to business.

"Ooh, ooh, this is interesting. Heath left Genoryx two days after I did. Must have realized he didn't need to be working underneath their corporate thumb."

Liz is kinda projecting here. Heath never once displayed any discomfort with Genoryx as a company the way that she did. He wanted her to stay. He wanted the resources there. We know these things as an audience, and Liz would too if she was thinking through the big picture at this point in time.

Max, on the other hand, doesn't know any of that. Here's what Max hears from Liz: he hears surprise. He hears Liz acknowledge that this is unexpected news. And right as he’s processing this unexpected reveal...Max sees Heath's Wild Pony t-shirt.

Weird coincidence #1 from Max's POV was Heath (the guy who is currently so pissed at Liz that he won't take her calls) supposedly rescuing Liz's science out of the good of his heart so that Genoryx doesn’t get their hands on it? This doesn't add up.

Weird coincidence #2 was Heath quitting Genoryx - a decision Heath made that Liz wasn't expecting.

The Wild Pony t-shirt is now the 3rd thing that doesn't add up. And if the t-shirt clue isn't adding up for you, see my post about it here:

The T-shirt is strike 3 for Max. He can't really pretend that he's not suspicious of Heath anymore. So he broaches the subject with her.

"How much do you know about this guy, Heath? How close were you?"

Max is feeling uncomfortable and looking for more information. He's trying to make the clue make sense. Why would Heath have the T-shirt? Does he have a connection to Roswell that Liz doesn't know about? And Liz doesn’t listen.

"This isn't the time to be jealous about a boy I met."

For all that Liz is clinical and on mission, she jumps very quickly to assuming that Max is NOT on mission. Yes, Max is inherently more emotional than she is. But throughout the episode he's been asking questions about Heath and NOT JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS. That's one of the keys to me here. Max really is trying to give her the benefit of the doubt about him.

At Liz's house, he asked about "the boyfriend" but he wasn't doing it in a jealous or judgy way. If anything it could almost be interpreted as concern. He started with "were you happy" and only when Liz kind of metaphorically admitted that any happiness was a façade...that's when he brought Heath into it. And yeah, Liz says that he impacted her life and helped her grow, but she didn't exactly express romantic feelings that would make Max jealous. So when she basically jumped straight to the jealousy assumption instead of actually discussing this with him, he starts getting worked up. Because she is not hearing him. She is not acknowledging that the facts they have found during this investigation are not adding up. So he is honest and blunt about what he's thinking.

"I'm just saying it's possible that he took your one-of-a-kind alien spores and quit, so that, just like you, he could use the research himself, free of Genoryx."

Max is the one who brings the science into this conversation. Not Liz. And he's not criticizing or questioning HER application of the science. He's questioning the trustworthiness of Heath. Because the lies are starting to jump out at him like a friggin’ neon light.

BUT — now that he's specifically brought up the science, he has her attention. Because Max questioning her science is HER sore spot. So what does she say back to him? Something kinda judgy.

"That grand trust speech certainly had a short shelf life."

Side note: I really don't think there actually was a "grand trust speech" in this episode. I can think of a few scenes where there might have been an opportunity for one. In particular during the milkshake scene when he admits to saving her tapes. But they actually don't talk about trust in that scene. They talk about having hard conversations. They talk about moving forward instead of looking backwards. But they don't talk about trust. My guess is that there might have been content cut for time at some point in this episode, that may have included some grand declaration from Max, but that's really just speculation on my part.

Regardless…Liz's response to Max bringing up the science is to basically accuse him of not trusting her. Which is not what he was saying. He was not questioning her use of the science. He was questioning her trust in Heath through the context of her science. So he elaborates on what he IS saying, and as he does, he's getting more and more worked up...because this does relate directly to his personal fears, and, frankly, his buried trauma that he's never properly addressed.

"I trust you. Okay? But I don't trust some guy I have barely met with a secret that could endanger me, could endanger my family and break the frickin' Internet if it came out."

Max doesn't know Heath, and he doesn't trust Heath with a secret that could endanger Michael and Isobel. His emotions are escalating, because now he's thinking about the science that scares him in the hands of a guy that all signs points to being potentially untrustworthy, and he's triggered.

BUT he doesn't back up his argument. He doesn't point out the very specific evidence he's identified that Heath is probably lying to Liz.

And Liz is inherently reactive and sometimes overly defensive (see 1x09 list of Liz's flaws). So even though he's focused on Heath, she immediately reacts defensively and takes it as a criticism of HER.

"You think I would let myself be conned?"

"No, I think you came out here looking for a partner, and it could blind you."

*deep breath* and this is where it starts to get personal. And rough. Max isn't entirely wrong here. But he also kind of is. Liz didn't choose Genoryx for partnership. She was looking for resources, freedom to do the science she wanted to do, and to save her father from deportation.

But partnership? Yeah, Liz wanted that. But she wanted that from MAX. She was looking for partnership in life, not in science.

And now that Max has thrown that direct criticism out there, Liz is going to throw a bomb right back at him.

"Just because you sabotaged me when I thought you were mine does not mean that Heath would take the same path."

Ouch. This is the hardest line in this whole scene for me to work with. Because it is combative. And purposefully hurtful.

BUT…she is NOT TALKING ABOUT HER SCIENCE. She has not said a single word about her science in this argument. She moved past that. She had the epiphany that she was wrong and she apologized (3x03). That is in the past for her.

This argument, for Liz, is about betrayal. This is about her believing that they were going to be partners and move their lives forward together (2x12), and right when she believed in that future, Max made another massive decision that directly impacted her life (just like he did in 1x13) instead of working with her to make big decisions together.

"And just because you changed the wallpaper doesn't mean you've mended your blind spots."

I really hate this "change the wallpaper" line. It feels like they're mixing metaphors. Liz called her life a commercial. Max is saying that she's changed her decor. Like...pick one and stick with it.

That aside… I think this barb is about her arrogance. Earlier in the scene, she seemed baffled at the idea that Max believes she could have been conned by Heath, because Liz is used to always being the smartest person in the room. She thought she was smarter than Diego and he figured her out. She believed her lab was secure, but Diego (possibly) got in. Sometimes, like most scientists, Liz is so bogged down in the complicated, brilliant details she’s thinking through, that she misses simple things that contribute to the big picture. And I think that's what Max is getting at here. In her arrogance, she believes that she can control the Heath situation. But she's not acknowledging the human factor here - that Heath is a person who may have his own unspoken ulterior motives driving him. Just like Diego did. She's just not seeing what Max is seeing.

BUT - again I'll say. Max is also not communicating the scope of the evidence he is collecting. They're both wrong here.

"I have learned my lessons, but you... oh, my God, you sound an awful lot like the guy who blew up my lab. So forgive me, but you're making it perfectly clear why I felt like I had to go and change the wallpaper."

This is the only line where Liz even comes close to talking about her science, but again, she's talking about his betrayal. She's talking about him undermining their partnership. She's talking about her need for a change of scenery from HIM.

And that’s when Max blows out the safe and they put the fight on hold to finish their investigation.

But, to sum it up…the fight was all about trust and betrayal. It was necessary for them to work through it, though frankly? I wish they could have finished the discussion. Because instead of them coming to some sort of peace with their trust in each other, the truth came out about Heath, Liz realized that she was wrong, she apologized, and they moved forward together, on mission.

I can’t help pointing out though…after the fight and Liz's epiphany about Heath, Max and Liz spent at least 15 hours in a car together. And I'm sorry, I refuse to believe that they didn't talk about anything important for 15 hours. Fic writers assemble? 😆

Many thanks to @ober-affen-geil for doing a quick review and checking me on opinions vs facts. Very important.

And for my next trick… road trips, life choices, and Robert Frost! Coming soon to a Tumblr near you…

#rnm echo #rnm season 3 #roswell new mexico #max&liz #my meta #max evans #liz ortecho #rnm meta

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