#can you tell I miss writing term papers?? yeah

[bibastibootz]

Hello! First of all, I love your blog so much, you give off such warm, positive vibes :)

I wanted to ask if you would explain your head canons regarding Basti and Thorsten's sexualities a bit more? I've seen you refer to them as gay/bi respectively quite often and I would love to hear your reasonings and explanations behind that. (Not at all because I disagree, I'm just obsessed with the two of them and I think you'll have some very interesting takes on the topc!)

If you don't want to just ignore me :)

Hi! and thank you for this lovely ask, it put a really big smile on my face!! you're so kind! 😌 and OOHHHH do I have headcanons about Thorsten’s and Sebastian’s sexuality, I hope you’re ready!! 🔥 (I prefer making lists rather than writing articles, so I hope this still reads well enough)

schwuler Thorsten <3 It would be so easy to say that Thorsten is straight because he had a wife and a daughter back in Hamburg, but people who claim that aren't watching the show right. Here's why I think that a reading of him as a gay man is so so so so valid:

Susanne and Lilli: There are many ways to fit his late wife and daughter into this headcanon, so take your pick: He genuinely didn't know he was gay and started a family. He was in denial and started a family anyway. He was well aware of his homosexuality and maybe this was a mutual arrangement between him and Susanne. It was purely superficial.

(lack of) interest in women: Once Thorsten is in Stuttgart, he literally never shows any interest in any woman whatsoever (much to the dismay of his neighbour) and I do not remember him flirting with any woman ever. Also when asked about women, he literally answers, "Keine Ahnung, ich bin da kein Spezialist." A fortuneteller read his hand once and said: "Sie sind ein lebenslang Suchender. Besonders Frauen sind Ihnen ein ewiges Rätsel." and Thorsten replies, "Jetzt wird es vielleicht doch etwas zu persönlich." Hm. . . So Thorsten is sb who still hasn't found himself? And women are a mystery to him? Hm, gay. Also: Another relationship with a woman, much less so marriage, is so far off his radar that he proposed to Sebastian to start a "Alters WG".

often presumed gay: It is almost a running gag that people assume Thorsten is gay (except that the possibility of a gay Thorsten should not be the punchline). Julian Siebert in "Grabenkämpfe" assumes that Thorsten is gay. His boss while undercover in "Freigang" assumes that he's gay: "Bist du schwul oder warum sind hier keine Weiber?" Thorsten replies, "Schwul.", which the boss plays off as a joke.

casual, yet serious about queerness and other queer people: This is particularly striking in comparison to Sebastian because Thorsten seems so #woke about everything. He understands subtle and not so subtle nods and hints from other queer people but does not make a fuss about them and immediately recognizes queerness (as opposed to Sebastian): Once again "Grabenkämpfe," where Thorsten never jokes about Julian Siebert's obvious interest in him. Also in "Hart an der Grenze" Basti treats them playing a gay couple as a fun joke while Thorsten is very much not amused - and there is just sth in the way he treats the topic so seriously that makes it seem as if it real to him. In "Anne und der Tod" they interrogate clients and stand in front of an old man who has pictures of him and another man on his shelf and wall, and while Sebastian very innocently asks whether that's his brother or son, Thorsten's behavior suggests that he caught on instantly that the old man is in fact gay and that those are photos of him and his late partner.

actively against homophobia: When an old man makes a homophobic remark at him and Sebastian, he immediately grabs Sebastians hand to make that man uncomfortable and as a big fuck you and a way of saying, "Yeah people are queer, get over it, old man!!"

never denying, never clarifying: As much as men flirt with him or people assume he's gay, Thorsten never denies it and never clarifies that he is, in fact, heterosexual. Never! Best example is (once again) "Grabenkämpfe" when his neighbour spots Thorsten at a gay bar with another man and says that at least now she knows why he didn't have time for her - and Thorsten does not get defensive and screams sth like, "I'm not gay, I'm here for a case!", he just lets it slide. And remember when the Freigang boss derogatorily asked Thorsten whether he's gay but then later it seems that Thorsten had sex with a woman, to which the boss replies "Na egal, bin ja froh, dass du nicht schwul bist."? Thorsten once again does not outright say, "Genau, bin ich nicht." but instead replies, "Ich weiß." and looks sad and angry at this blatant portrayal of homophobia.

love confession: In "Die Nacht der Kommissare" Thorsten confesses his love to Sebastian while on drugs with a loud and clear "Sebastian? Ich liebe dich." He continues to confess his love to other men in that episode, but this "Ich liebe dich" feels very different, very sincere and from the heart. I like to read this scene as both a platonic and a romantic love confession.

There is probably so much more, but this is just from the top of my head. Moving on!

bi Basti <3 Sebastian is bi because it Just. Makes. Sense.!!!!!

the rise and fall of the Bootz family: I need to start with Julia and the kids because Sebastian is introduced as a happy, young family man who has basically achieved everything, both in his private life and career. His life as a husband and father is basically too perfect when we meet him, and of course it does crumble more and more into pieces with every new episode. We soon see tension in his and Julia's marriage, ultimately leading to their divorce and Sebastian's never-talked-about problem with alcohol and his separation anxiety. I encourage everyone to watch all the eps until "Spiel auf Zeit" as if Sebastian is falling out of love with Julia and in love with Thorsten (. . .is it possible to love two people at once? Good question, Sebastian).

Felix Klare supremacy: Even Felix Klare himself thought that Tatort was lacking diversity in terms of presentation of women and gay people back in 2013 and he advocated for becoming the first gay Tatort duo. Aber Richy wollte nicht. Tja.

bi in another universe: In "Tödliche Tarnung" we learn that Sebastian and Julia were once close to breaking up and Basti wonders how different his life could have been: "Julia, hast du dir schon mal überlegt, wie unser Leben verlaufen wäre, wenn, naja, wenn wir uns damals getrennt hätten?" Cue "Scherbenhaufen": When he is about to go undercover, he has to come up with a backstory for his character. And what does he do? Completely remove a wife and kids out of the picture and then says, "Ehrlich gesagt, ich hab sie dann mit meinem besten Freund betrogen." Kinda bi to make up a scenario in which he gets to be with Thorsten instead of Julia, if you ask me. And he looks so happy about it, too.

weird about queerness: Sebastian has always been weird about political correctness, and to me this reads as a defense mechanism, as a way to distance himself from queerness and treat it as sth "not concerning me". And yes, I do headcanon Basti as having serious internalized homophobia, why do you ask? I have yet to form proper thoughts about Basti's uncharacteristic compassion towards the gay man who has just lost his lover in "Vergebung", it feels so personally affected. What we can nevertheless witness, though, is some personal growth in that Sebastian is more comfortable with and knowledgable about queerness.

heteronormative worldview / hetcomp: Sebastian literally doesn't know that bisexuality exists. When he hears of married men (yes, there have been three such storylines. . . THREE!!!!) who had a secret lover on the side, he always assumes they were gay and never once considers bisexuality. Looping back to the Bootz marriage&divorce as well as the countless "secretly gay married men" trope, Basti is literally describing his life in "Vergebung" without acknowledging the parallels.

flirting with Thorsten: Of course, any straight man can flirt with his friends, but the way Sebastian does it is so "haha just joking!!! . . . unless 👀"-coded. First the pretend gay couple at the adoption agency, then another pretend gay couple in the waiting room, then the queer undercover persona plot twist. And look how flustered he gets when he gets flirted with.

honorable mentions: bi lighting, bi sitting, bi bi bi music.

Again, there is most definitely more and everyone is free to add on to my thoughts! 😌✌️

bonus: Are Thorsten and Sebastian in love? 👀 Yes, and as of February 2024 there are 32 episodes to prove it. Thank you for reading! 🫶

[mdhwrites]

Villains are not Characters

I have seen multiple lists at this point that try to tell you all the traits you need for a great villain. Make sure to include a sympathetic backstory, make them scary, make them charismatic, make them smart, make them whacky, etc. etc. None of them understand what a villain is though. What an antagonist is.

An antagonist is a narrative device.

Yes, we could argue all things in literature are narrative devices... And they are. What I'm about to say also goes for a protagonist after all. We have the term anti-hero to describe a protagonist who acts villainously or isn't meant to be likable or sympathetic for a reason after all. You make what fits the story best though. What fits the goal and theme of your work best.

And so the way to make a good villain is to first understand what the concept of your work even is and how they challenge it. If your story preaches the power of friendship, your villain is probably going to be someone who is mostly alone and thinks friendship is stupid. Maybe not that childishly but that's still going to be the core thrust of him because he opposes the heroes and the theme of the story. Beating him means the theme wins out. Does he need to be deep in this example or relatable or anything like that? Absolutely not! You can do it that way, have him come to the good side when he realizes the good of friendship (hi Unikitty of all things) but you'll do plenty fine just having an asshole who sneers and mocks the very notion and then has his plans undone because the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

And some of you might be saying this is obvious... While a lot of others might go "Okay but that's hard." People like a one size fits all solution. The hero's journey essentially exists for that reason. We like simple things that can be pointed at to make our work be praised because creation is scary and major elements like antagonist and protagonist are the first to be mocked and the first to be praised in a work usually, especially in writing where spectacle isn't really a thing. As such, people want a list of criteria that will just make it work.

But that's also how you get really boring or tonally clashing villains. There are genuinely stories out there where the reason people end up going "Wait, he had a point. We're the villains here," despite the framing is because in an attempt to make the villain seem to have a proper motivation and depth, they actually ended up justifying him. Ended up proving him correct and that maybe his methods were the right ones, even in works where they are NOT supposed to be. On paper they might be the best thing ever... Until they make actual contact with the story you've written.

One of the best examples for a villain that should not work on paper, AT ALL, but is genuinely genius is Doofenshmirtz from Phineas and Ferb. Yeah, the guy who wants to take over the Tri-State Area. The guy who barely interacts with the main protagonists except for sometimes his inventions being that which helps the boys not get caught. The guy who is a complete joke.

Here's the thing though: The point of the show is the unbridled power and joy of creativity. The bliss that is eyes wide open and prepared to accept the wonder of the world. After all, what is really the difference between Phineas/Ferb and Doof? Both create miraculous things in very short spans of time. They are both endlessly creative, never making quite what you expect but they view things different and thus Perry reacts to them differently. There's nothing wrong with a kid tinkering with his toys for fun and for the fun of others after all. Their heart is pure and their intention good. Perry only steps in when the boys end up somehow putting themselves in danger because someone needs to make sure the kids don't end up running with scissors.

Doof though is missing that wonder and joy. He takes great pride in his creations but the creation is not the goal, unlike the boys. He shows the harm that all of this creativity bent towards selfishness and anger can cause. He contrasts the boys and reminds the audience that there is something special that makes the protagonist who they are just by existing. And as such, because he opposes the themes, Perry is always there to stop him because he's running with scissors, hoping to find someone to stab. Not that dark admittedly but you get the point.

He is so deeply in conversation with the themes of the show that despite very rarely coming into active conflict with the protagonists, or even seeing them on a given episode, he still does his job as a villain through his B plots in the episodes. You get the push and pull of a great villain just through a shift in perspective.

But none of these listicles for how to write a great villain is going to tell you to write Doofenshmirtz. He's an incompetent, pathetic fool after all who is beat by a platypus. Of course, that's because they don't know what a villain actually is, thus making them far more of a joke than Doof ever was. See you next tale.

======+++++======

Just a fun personal element: A lot of my non-serialized works don't have explicit villains in them because they're often so focused on characters and their burgeoning relationships that the biggest villain is the self. Just your reminder that sometimes the best villain for a story is none.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[sirensea14]

Smiling critters ,headcanons cuz this is n e c e s s a r y and for s c i e n c e

Kickinchicken is A S I A N because i said so/j. He's the greatest in sarcasm

Craftycorn is Scandinavian in my head for some reason

In school, Bubba is usually the one with the biggest bag and the ultimate supplier of papers. If there's a quiz, hands will be up to him asking "Can we have a piece of paper?" (This is way funnier in my native language than in english💀)

Bubba recites way too much, snatching away all the recitation chips, sometimes, teachers may ask him to substitute them for a bit

The teachers are, of course, Miss Delight and her sisters

Dogday is the president of the class (if only there were more critters lol, then he wouldve gladly taken the role) or the one shouting "Everyone! Quiet!!" when the critters are too noisy

Pickypiggy sits at the back, eating away her snacks and lunch

Catnap dozes off often, but when the teacher calls him, he can answer it correctly. Lazy but smart kid

Kickin only carries a small bag

Bobby and hoppy often gossips with each other. Bffs XD. Theyre also the girly girl and tomboy of the smiling critters respectively

Bubba is good at math and science but doesnt remember shit about history. Meanwhile kickin does better in that subject than he is in math

Bubba and catnap can be school rivals, but catnap doesnt really care (nonchalant)

Crafty, ah yes, crafty, our ultimate artist of tte group. She supplies crayons and pencils, so both her and bubba are the suppliers lol

Kickin can sing and dance, he and Hoppy can go on in a breakdance competition /j

Bobby cheering for hoppy while that happens

Dogday cheers for both (poor dog cant pick a side)

Crafty and dogday are great on writing essays

Pickypiggy x food canon yeah?

Crafty loves to share her original stories and works, dogday and bobby often cheers for her

Bobby, the ultimate fashion lover

Picky is great at home economics subject

Dogday is well on all subjects but notably physical education and english are his strength, i also imagine him to be good at electrical installation and maintenance (eim) tho this is a senior high strand and the critters arent in that grade level, so in elementary terms, he's the mini electrician of the group

Catnap is mostly asleep lol, he's most active at night and sometimes studies at that time. He also reads some of crafty's writing if he has some spare time at night

9 students are awfully few imo, i wish i could see more of dogday shouting at them to settle down, id like to see him in authority

Catnap's bag resembles a pillow and feels like a pillow

Dogday is their role model

Crafty likes to look at the window whenever there's a discussion of lesson

Most beautiful handwriting award goes to: bobby bearhug

Ugliest handwriting award goes to : me/hj im debating whether it be catnap, kickin or bubba lol

Best actress/actor: bobby and kickin, worst: bubba (he's awkward af)

Hoppy and bubba are left handed

While i write all of these headcanon, pickypiggy is eating in her own corner

Catnap would sometimes lean on dogday's shoulder if theyre beside each other. Dogday tries his best to not move his shoulder even if he's busy (like telling the group to be quiet, yes to dogday showing authority)

Thats all, thank you for coming to my little headcanon talk🗿

[scarletwinterxx]

your beginning and middle and end - mark lee imagine

hello🥺 sooo this one is a bit longer than my usual posts. think of it as a valentine special. i loved writing this one, i hope you like it too🤍

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

FEBRUARY 09, 10AM

"That's the fourth date you declined, girl valentines is around the corner" Yun-jin tells you the moment the other guy walked away

"Genuine question, do I need a guy to celebrate it or do I even need to celebrate it?"

"If Valentines has a version of the grinch it would be you"

You laugh at her statement, reading over the small note that was given to you along with a single rose. It was cute, you appreciate the thought but you really didn't want to go out with the dude. You'd rather let them down now than pretend to have fun during a date.

"It's just not my thing" you tell her

"Then what's your thing? Tell me and I will personally look for him"

Looks like luck is on your side because you spot the big clock behind her, your next class about to start.

"Once I know, I'll tell you. I'm gonna be late. Bye" you gather your stuff and rushed out the hall, you can hear her protests making you laugh on your way out.

When you got to your next class, the other students are just arriving. A lot of vacant seats, you choose the one in the middle. You get your notes and laptop out to skim over your notes from the last session.

"Another one?" you hear someone say from behind you making you look up

"Yep, want to read it?" you chuckle, passing the rose over to Mark.

Mark Lee, the boy you sit next to class with. You see him enough around campus to get acquainted. He's friendly, known by many, a poet by heart. And he's also well aware of the failed confessions to you.

The first time you brought a flower to class he didn't say anything, the second time he thought it was from the same person but then the third time it happened right in front of him. He witnessed how you gently turned down the poor lad who was asking you out after handing you a rose.

Mark takes his usual seat beside you before reading the note

"You and Me, on v? huh like Valentines?" he laughs, holding the little card in his hand

"I'd give it a 4 out of 10"

"Ouch, so the lowest one then. I'd say my favorite is still the one about cats" he tells you, passing the rose back to you

Do you like cats? Because I’d like you to take meowt

You remember that one too. You thought it was cringey, but Mark smiled when he read it. You even let him keep the card.

"Do you still have it?" you ask "The card? Oh yea, I drew like little cats all over it. I'm sure it's somewhere in my bag"

"Why? Planning to use it on someone?"

"Yeah right, I think I'd have a bit more game than that" he jokes

"Ha, we'll see about that" you snorted. Missing the way Mark is looking at you with small grin on his face. Trying to be as inconspicuous as he could be.

The two of you might be on good terms but he wouldn't put it past you to reject him too. Since he got to know you, one thing he learned about you is that you're always so sure of yourself. To you, no is a full sentence. You like what you like and say no to what you don't. You're unapologetically you and he likes that.

He's not sure yet whether he likes you or likes you.

"Earth to Mark?" you wave your hand in front of his face, making him break out of his thoughts

"Lost you there, where'd you go" you joke

"Was just thinking about this paper I have due on Tuesday" he says, it's not a total lie. He does have a paper he needs to finish before Valentines day.

"Need help? I have a few works to catch up on too"

"You don't have plans?" he asks, it's like asking if you have a date on Valentines without asking if you have a date on Valentines day.

"Not really no, and if I'm being honest I heard this guy planning to ask about dinner and I'd rather not..."

"Am I... the getaway car?" You chuckle at his question

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but if I could avoid it I would. So library or the cafe near campus?"

He looks at you like he's weighing his options, playfully hitting him on the arm making the guy laugh "Cafe it is, I'll see you there?" he says

"It's a date" you grin at him

FEBRUARY 12, 11AM

"It's not"

"You said she said it was" Jungwoo says, looking at Mark who is currently trying to find something to wear. After that little moment with you, Mark made sure to clear up his schedule for that day. Ofcourse Jungwoo being the nosy bestfriend didn't let it pass without making Mark tell the whole story.

"Also if this wasn't a date, why are you freaking out about what to wear? You're just going to study, are you going to study her?"

Mark throws the hoodie at Jungwoo's face before looking through his closet again, "Maybe it was just a slip of tongue. It's Y/N, she rejects everyone who asks her out" Mark says while his head is buried deep in his closet

Jungwoo rolls his eyes at his bestfriend, Mark swears he doesn't like you like that and yet here he is. He only met you a couple of time, Mark introduced you before when he went to give Mark a book he forgot to bring.

"I can think of something else you want her tongue to slip in" he mumbles, "Shut up, don't talk about her like that" Mark stands up straight, looking at the other guy. Jungwoo holds his hands up, "Sorry"

Mark gives him another glare before getting a hoodie inside his closet, "Whatever, I'll just wear this. Should I bring an extra one just in case?"

"Just in case what? You spill something?" Jungwoo jokes

In case she gets cold, Mark thinks to himself.

"Just cause" Mark grumbles, walking back to his closet to get another hoodie then stuffing it inside his backpack.

"You're going to be late, go have fun at your not a date date"

About an hour after that, Mark is waiting for you at the cafe. He got there first and sent you a quick text. After a few minutes, the door chimed making Mark look up.

And that's when you walk in, a bouquet of blue tulips in your grasp. You look around, quickly spotting Mark. You make your way towards him, Mark stands up to pull the chair out for you. Saying a quick thank you then you set your stuff down.

"Sorry I'm late"

"Nah, I'm just early" he tells you, "You uh the guy caught you?" he jokes, pointing at flowers

"Oh these? No, I got them actually like I bought it this morning. Yun-jin forgot to buy milk so I had to go out this morning then I saw these. Here" then you're handing the flowers over to him

When you notice the confused look on his face, you giggle. This made Mark look more confused at what's happening, "What? No one ever gave you flowers?" you joke

"No, it's suppose to be the other way 'round?" he asks but accepts it nonetheless

You shrug, getting your stuff out

"I don't like flowers, main reason why I always say no to those dudes. I appreciate the effort, I do but it's not my style. But I remember you said these are your favorite during our class introductions, so I got them for you" you smile at him, he smiles back.

"Thanks, no like really thank you" he says, this made you chuckle finding the situation cute.

"Okay, back to business. I do have like three agendas to finish today" you tell him, gesturing at the small stack of papers on the table

"I'll buy you a chocolate cupcake if you finish it all" he offers, your face lighting up at the mention of the sweet treat. Mark also remembers something about you during that class intro.

Actually he remembers everything about you and that day. The professor asked everyone to say their name along with two random facts about themselves.

"Hi everyone my name is Y/N, I love chocolate cupcakes and I can recite the graduation speech from Twilight"

That earned a few laughs from the class, and from him. You really did leave an impression on him. As days, weeks and months passed by the two of you got acquainted.

If someone asks (mainly Jungwoo) Mark when was the exact moment he felt different about you, he can't pinpoint the exact moment. It just sort of happened for him. Maybe from all the small gestures you unknowingly do, or how it's easy to talk to you. You just get him.

"Can you make it two?" tilting your head to the side for effect, making Mark laugh and nod his head "You got it"

A few hours later, and a few cups of coffee the two of you finally finish. Mark actually finished his paper an hour ago but you weren't done with the last module you had to do,

"Are you done? Am I making you wait?" you ask, noticing he stopped doing anything and was just looking at you

"Huh? Oh uh yea, but don't worry about it. I can wait" he tells you with a smile

"You sure? I'm almost done"

"Don't rush it, I'll still buy you the cupcakes" he tells you, you shoot him a smile before going back to work. Meanwhile Mark goes to the front of the store to get you your cupcakes.

You didn't even notice he stood up, focusing on saving the file before sending the final file to your professor.

"And done! Mark?" you look up only to find the seat infront of you empty. You spot him over the counter, choosing to wait and tidy your things in the mean time.

"Hey, you done?" he asks when he got back to your table

"Mhm, finally. Sorry for taking up your whole afternoon"

"No worries, I finished my work too and I enjoyed your company. And as promised, here's your cupcakes" Mark then opens the box, he might as well presented you with a pot of gold with the way you're grinning from ear to ear. Your joy radiating, making him smile too.

"For me?" you asked, he nods his head

"These are the chocolate ones, I got two. The others are their best sellers, then this one I just thought you might like" he points at the cupcake with heart sprinkles on it.

You laugh, getting the box from him "Okay fine, I believe you. You definitely how to make a girl say yes"

He shakes his head, suddenly feeling shy "Believe me I'm not an expert when it comes to girls" he mumbles

"No, but you got this type of vibe about you you know" you tell him, getting one cupcake from the box

"What vibe?"

"You know like someone could've been in love with you for ten years without you knowing, a classic case of unrequited love but not in a mean way you just don't really know. It's the way you see the world, it's always nice, forgiving, full of chances. You see meaning even in little things. You got this boyish charm about you, the kind that girls would pick over their fictional boyfriends. You're better than any guy written by anyone" you tell him not noticing the way he's just staring at you

"I follow you on your socials, it's cute when you take pictures of the moon or the sky. Makes me remember to take a breath and be in the moment every once in a while"

He don't say anything, still processing what you said. He has never heard himself be described that way, atleast not to his face but he doubts anyone can be as eloquent as you.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally finds his voice, you nod at him

"Why do you say no to all the boys who ask you out? besides the cringey one liners and flowers"

You chuckle, "Because I know me. All of them would've just ended one way or another. I know what I want, what I like. I like a guy I can have an actual conversation with from philosophical point of views to something so random. Someone that makes it feel easy to talk and listen to"

"Do you know how hard it is to control my expression when I'm in public? Yun-jin said my face is too judgy" you jokingly add "I'm an open book if you know how to read it exactly, if that makes sense"

"No, I totally get it. You're not complicated or hard to get, they just don't know how to. You deserve more effort than that" he tells you

"See, that's what I'm talking about. If you keep on doing that I'm gonna be the one asking you out" you tease him, the guy across you laughing. Trying to hide his blushing cheeks and fluttering heart.

The two of you talked some more before he offered to walk you home. It's almost sunset when Mark got back to his place,

"And he's back, how was the date?" Jungwoo shouts from somewhere inside. Mark spots him lounging on the couch, taking a seat beside him with the bouquet of flowers on his lap

"You got rejected too?" Jungwoo asks and Mark just shakes head

"Did you forget to give it? Got too shy? I'm pretty sure you're suppose to give it to the girl not take it back home"

"I didn't get it, I mean I got it but I got it from her. She bought me these" Mark clarifies, taking the bouquet to look at it again,

Jungwoo looks back and forth between Mark and the flowers, "Let me get this straight, the girl whose notorious for turning down guys who gives her flowers gave you flowers on your not a date date?"

Mark just stares back at his bestfriend because honestly it doesn't make sense to him too.

"Homegirl got more game than you" Jungwoo says with a chuckle

"She said she remembered I said these were my favorite. I mentioned it once during freshmen orientation week and she remembered"

"Oh my god, he's in love" Jungwoo laughs

"And you know, I gave her cupcakes and she got so happy I actually thought about signing up for baking classes" Mark grumbles, setting the flowers on the coffee table before taking a thrown pillow to bury his face in.

Jungwoo watches his bestfriend realized what he's known for a while now. Mark likes you. He just never said it. It's Mark. He thinks everyone is nice, most time he overlooks the nice gestures of other girls to him thinking it's normal when in reality they were trying to get his attention.

"Oh. This must be serious then. You don't even know how to cook"

"Yeah I know! Like I know I like her, I didn't know I like her." it felt surreal finally admitting it out loud.

"So you do like her? like like her"

"I think?"

"It's a yes or no"

"No, I don't"

"You got him flowers"

Meanwhile back at your dorm, Yun-jin is also interrogating you. You just finished giving her a recap of your day, she was half listening half watching her show when you suddenly mentioned you got flowers for Mark

"Just because I got him flowers don't mean I like him, I just remembered it was his favorite" you shrug, trying to not make a big deal out of it.

"What's my favorite flower?" she asks, you blink back at her coming up with a blank answer

"See! Oh my gosh, my baby girl is growing up" she dramatically hugs you

"Was that weird? That I gave him flowers?"

"No, it's the 21st century. Guys can get flowers too"

"He got me cupcakes too" you mumble, looking at the box on the table.

Yun-jin watches you, smiling to herself. She's with you twenty four seven and she's never seen you like this. There are a few times she's seen you on campus with Mark, you always smile whenever he's around. Choosing not to push further, she gives the topic a rest and changing it to something else

"So what are you doing for valentines? because if you're free I know this dude who's free also-" "Actually Mark and I are hanging out again" you cut her off

"You're spending valentines with Mark?"

"Yea, so uhm actually I'm gonna call it a night. I have classes in the morning, we're meeting again around lunch. Night" then you're making a beeline towards your bedroom.

FEBRUARY 14, 10AM

Come Valentines day. Yun-jin thinks you're out with Mark while the boy is completely unaware he's being mentioned.

Choosing a place you know Yun-jin won't find you, you stayed at the farthest lounge area after class. Most students won't even walk all the way here since it's a long way going back and forth.

Finding a spot to sit on, you spot someone sitting alone on one the benches

"Mark?"

The boy looks up, immediately smiling when he sees it's you

"Hey, you. What are you doing here?" he asks, getting his stuff from the seat beside him to make room for you. Putting your stuff on the table before taking the seat beside him

"I just finished for the day, and currently hiding from Yun-jin"

He chuckles, "Why?"

"She's trying to set me up with a blind date so I pretended I had plans" leaving out the part he was mentioned

"You don't have plans?" he asks, giving himself a pat on the back for not sounding too nervous

You shake your head, "I have something to say though, I might have told her I had plans... with you"

Mark just looks at you, feeling shy under his gaze you look away.

"With me?"

"Yea, sorry. You don't have to stay though if you have plans don't worry about it. Go enjoy your valentines day" you told him a bit too energetic than you intended.

Then he smiles, Mark smiles at you like he's keeping a secret he can't wait to tell.

"What?"

"I don't have plans, I was going to ask if you had plans yesterday but I didn't want to overstep"

"What do you mean? You're just asking" you smile back at him, "Did you think I was going to say no like always? Oh my gosh I swear I'm not as heartless. I wasn't-"

"No no no, of course I didn't think that. I mean I don't think you're heartless" he pauses to collect his thought because right now words are flying out faster than he can think of them.

And if he got one chance at this, he'll make sure to do it right the first time.

Then you start speaking again, surprising Mark once again with your words

"Yun-jin said I smile a lot when I'm with you, now that I think about it I think I do. It's just you're easy to be with, and I feel relaxed like I can talk to you about anything and you listen. It's also so fun to listen to your stories, especially when you get this animated look on your face. And when you laugh before you can even say the joke. Am I rambling, sorry I'm rambling"

He takes your hand, holding it in his. Testing the waters to see how you'll react. When you don't pull away, he gets a card out from his notebook. Then he hands it over to you,

Today we are obliged to be romantic And think of yet another Valentine. We know the rules, and we are both pedantic. Today’s the day we have to be romantic. Our love is old and sure, not new and frantic. You know I’m yours, and I know you are mine. And saying that has made me feel romantic, My dearest love, my darling valentine.

You read the note carefully, a smile slowly forming on your face while Mark watches you. When the thinks you finish it, he speaks up

"I read that, and I thought about you. You're worth more than a one liner, more than a single flower. You deserve poems to be written about you, gardens to walk through with the prettiest flowers"

You playfully hit him, reading the card again before putting it in your bag for safe keeping

"I love it, thank you. Now I feel bad I got you nothing"

"It's okay, I didn't even know I was going to give it to you. I was ready to just hide it in my bag for the rest of time" he admits

"Why? It's so nice though"

"Yea but I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable"

"I appreciate it really. Out of all the notes I received, I'll keep this one"

At that he smiles.

Like how the story began, with one liner notes and a single flower, who knew you'd find a friend and now something more. Mark is someone you didn't expect you'd have something romantic with especially since you're not really looking for it but it makes sense that you'd end up with him. He makes your days brighter, it's like he bring everything that is good into your world.

When you said he's the kind of guy who beats every fictional character, it's true because he gave you something better than a fairytale; a reality worth living in.

And yes spoiler, you do end up with him. The story ends with you and him. Spending all of your valentines together.

end.

[hairmetal666]

Steddie Notes Part 4 (Welcome to Steve's POV)

CW//small instance that could be viewed as internalized homophobia

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

In the bottom of Steve’s closet is a Nike shoe box. It’s full of a year’s worth of torn notebook pages, paper menus, receipts, envelopes, sticky notes, notepad sheets, invoice carbon copies, discarded things from dnd, and whatever else they could find to write on.

It's this box that contains every bit of Steve’s heart. 

✏️✏️✏️✏️

Steve’s at the school to pick up Dustin, Mike and Lucas, but they don’t appear at 9pm on the dot like they promised. Grumbling and annoyed, Steve heads down to the drama club room.

He hears Eddie’s voice even before he walks into the room. The low baritone, all husky and threatening, sends shivers down Steve’s spine. 

Steve strides into the room, ready to berate his kids for their tardiness, but he stops literally in his tracks when he sees Eddie. Eddie looming over the table, all that long curly hair framing his face; his expression uncharacteristically dangerous, his eyes flat and promising violence.

He can’t do anything but stare, mouth shocked wide. Eddie lifts his gaze, locks it on Steve. Eddie’s looking at him with such intense command, such focus, that Steve knows he’d drop to his knees for that look, give Eddie anything he asked, everything.

He wants. So hard and so fast it makes him a little nauseous. 

Eddie’s gaze flicks away, while Steve reels from the striking clarity of feeling that rewrites the year of their friendship frame-by-frame.

Steve hardly listens, still trying to come to terms with his sudden realization, with how right it is, with how obvious it’s been this whole time. He remembers, after Starcourt, the way Eddie made him feel safe, cared for. The way Eddie calling him baby echoed for hours, days, weeks after. 

Of course Eddie doesn’t miss Steve's distraction. He leans into Steve's space, murmuring softly, “You okay, sweetheart? Sorry we ran late. Lost track of time.”

“Just tired, I guess.," he says. And he is distinctly not okay, because Eddie is calling him sweetheart and how did it take him this long to realize how much he loves the pet names? 

He tries to tell Eddie. Can’t. Too afraid of losing his friend.  He keeps going out with girls; nice girls, pretty girls, but wishes that Eddie was the one sitting beside him in the movie theater, in the passenger side of his car, across from him at the restaurant. 

Eddie…I think I really like you

You’re my favorite person in the entire world

Some days you’re the only thing I can think about

I want to wake up in bed with you everyday

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you

Do you like me? Yes or No

✏️✏️✏️✏️

Steve’s in the Wheeler’s basement, leaning against Eddie's shoulder, waiting for the kids to finish up.

“What are they talking about?” He scribbles at the edge of Eddie’s campaign notes.

Eddie scowls at the note placement, responds anyway. 

“Halloween costumes.” 

“Wanna dress up together, Munson?”

“No way, Harrington, I’m not dressing up as Danny Zuko for you.”

“…obviously you’re Sandy.”

Eddie makes an offended noise. 

“I could do end of the movie Sandy. But face it, baby, you’re the pretty, fresh-faced innocent and I’m the bad boy.” 

Steve strangles back the sound he wants to make when his brain supplies him with an image of Eddie in those black, skin-tight pants.

“I could be a bad boy.”

Before Eddie can reply, the kids start shouting, and Eddie climbs on the wobbling card table, clapping his hands for attention. 

“Jesus, Eds." He grabs Eddie’s ankle to keep him stable. 

“I think a trip to the pumpkin patch is in order, what say you?”

There’s a blip where the whole room stills, every single one of them, aside from Eddie, remembering rotted fields and fetid tunnels filled with Upside Down spores and demo dogs. 

“Oh, yeah, we don’t go to the pumpkin patch anymore. You know, since the tunnels—”

Steve shoots Dustin the most intense silencing looks he’s ever given anyone, which is really saying something. 

They’d agreed, back in July that they would never tell Eddie what really happened at the mall. Eddie is too good, too gentle, brimming with too much pure kindness for Steve to want him anywhere near the Upside Down.

Eddie cackles. “Tunnels, Henderson?” 

Lucas laughs, says, “He means the maze. Don’t you remember? They set it up one time a few years ago.”

“We got really lost. Took us hours to find the exit,” Dustin adds. 

“Mike cried,” Lucas says. 

“Hey! I did not!” 

Mike’s anger at fake crying about a made-up crisis is enough to have them all in stitches, even Eddie who doesn’t know it’s a lie.  

“What about that apple orchard?” Steve suggests.

Eddie pokes him in the cheek, excited. “Ooh, yes, apple orchard!?”

✏️✏️✏️✏️

The orchard is a mad dash of fighting over wheelbarrows, shrieking sprints into the trees, Steve stressing at the kids throwing themselves across branches with zero regard for personal safety. 

Eddie nearly sends him into a coronary at the ripe old age of 19 by walking down a branch like he’s doing a tightrope. 

“Munson! Get your ass down from there!”

“I’m fine, Stevie! I’ve got reflexes like a cat.”

“The hell you do!” Steve shouts as Eddie wobbles. 

“Don’t worry, baby, I know you’ll always catch me,” Eddie yells back. He winks and Steve blushes about all of it. 

“You’ll just get us both hurt,” he says right as Eddie shimmies easily back to the ground. 

“You worry too much,” he scolds. “All this beautiful hair is going to go grey,” Eddie shuffles his fingers through the strands.

“You’re a menace,” he growls. Pushes Eddie playfully away. 

They pick apples and drink cider and it’s the best time Steve’s had in a while. He kids are spread out around him, Eddie and Robin on the quest for an apple that’s perfectly red, like you could poison Snow White with it, and he’s content. Happy. 

He lets himself bask in the moment, but it’s cut short by a familiar whooping yell and the crash of Eddie Munson clinging to his back.

He groans, almost loses his footing, but quickly hoists Eddie’s legs higher against his sides.

He runs and Eddie screams, giggling, and clutches his fists into the fabric of Steve’s sweater. 

“Can’t believe you caught me, sweetheart,” Eddie says once Steve slows to a walk.

“I’ll always catch you, Eds,” he promises.

Eddie makes a little noise, almost like a whimper, pressing his cheek against Steve’s.

And for just a second, the barest hint of a moment in time, Steve swears he feels Eddie’s lips pressed against the sensitive skin right beneath his ear. 

It’s right then that Steve knows he doesn’t just like Eddie. No, he’s positively, totally, and completely in love with him.

(Part 5)

Thank you all so much for your comments and reblogs and likes! I appreciate it more than I can say and am still so honored that so many people like this little series. Please let me know if I missed you in the tag list, and I'll make sure to get you added for future updates (I think we're looking at 3 more)!

@gaysonthefloor @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @mojowitchcraft @hiscrimsonangel @thegingerrapunzel @adelicioustragedy @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @im-sam-fucking-winchester @rainydays35 @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @gay-stranger-things @sherilitchi @gezell-igg @leather-and-freckles @bornonthesavage @ramyayaya @awkwardgravity1 @chaoticvictorianspirit @thosemessyvibes @beeing-stuupid @silentiumdelirium @freyaforestafay @thatbitchgayasf @sapphirecobalt-1 @sahh-dude @adorkfromnewyork @ollie-in-gray @extralegobrick @snapshotmaestro @fandomgenderz @nuttychaosface @thatcottagecorewitch @idoquitelikebread @shinekocreator @savveth @mackfrfr 0@yourebuckingkiddingme @steddieassheg0es @gamerdano @thebig-smoke @questionablequeeries @zerokrox-blog @thegingervulcan @charlies-candid-corner @perpetual-trashcan @sleepy-rainedrop @marvelous-musicals @hoffmannwrites @fromapayphone @courtjestermunson@juicinmyjams @daydreaming-mood @aceflavouredyougurt @emly03 @pille1983 @darcyshandflex @anteaterballs @adankrivervalleynearyou @didntwant2come @kittsu-makes-glass @alienace

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[blurglesmurfklaine]

hello nobody asked but here are more unsolicited Newsies Uno ReVerse thoughts that I can NOT get out of my head

Crutchie is Jack’s brother, but he never expects him to go out selling with his disability

When Les and Davey meet Crutchie for the first time, Les tells Jack something borderline offensive like “Why didn’t you tell me youse had a little brother with a bum leg? Between my face and his leg, we coulda been making MILLIONS this whole time!”

Davey is appropriately embarrassed and apologizes profusely on his brother’s behalf

Davey is obsessed with Portland, Oregon (it’s his Santa Fe) somewhere he can get away from the heated claustrophobia of the city, lock himself away in a cabin and finally put down on paper the little stories he tells himself to get through the day

Jack volunteers to go to Brooklyn with Davey

Les is the one hauled away to the refuge after Seize The Day

David and Katherine are the ones who hit it off, and Jack is The Pining One (TM)

Post-Rally, the Something To Believe In scene starts off with Kath confronting Davey and i don’t have details but I do have this piece of dialogue:

“If you weren’t a girl, you’d find out exactly why they call me Mouth.” “I think your inability to shut up might have something to do with it.” “No, it’s because when I hear someone talking about something they have no idea about, I aim for the mouth. And I don’t miss.”

And then Kath kisses him and Davey’s like omg??? Do I…..??? Like girls??? (Bc living in a house full of boys there’s no WAY he doesn’t already know he’s gay (umbrella term))

This Affects Post Canon bc I said so. Fun Post Canon Stuff (it’s fun for ME. Probably not for yall. You’ll call it angst or something):

Jack catches a Davey and Katherine kiss when they win the strike and it kind of makes him Unwell

Davey gets a job writing for The World

Jack has a hard time adjusting going back to school, can’t focus, realizes he’s happiest when he’s with the newsies (and Davey)

He brings up to Medda the idea of dropping out to get a job. She agrees because she sees how unhappy he is and school really just isn’t I for him

Kath gets him a job as an artist at The World

This means he has to see Davey and Kath Together Every Day and it makes him even more Unwell (although he loves the art part of it!)

Davey notices this because he is Davey

Because he is Davey and is the smartest man in the room but also the biggest idiot on the planet, he completely misconstrues the reason Jack is Being Weird

So Davey invites Jack to hang out one on one, without Katherine and Jack accepts at first but it gets harder and harder and Davey is more engrained in his life than ever and he just can’t do it

So Jack stops interacting with Davey at work, blows him off outside of it, and generally starts distancing himself and Davey is totally clueless

Finally, he goes to Katherine and complains about it and the conversation goes something like this:

“I thought spending time alone with him, away from you—no offense—would make him feel better. You know, remind him that no matter what’s going on with you and me that he’s still my friend.”

“I think that’s part of the problem, Davey.”

“I mean yeah. Truth be told if he and I weren’t friends I doubt you and I would even be an issue. I think he’d just go for it.”

“…… What?”

“I think he’d ask you on a date outright, instead of feeling guilty about his feelings for you.”

“….. oh my god you fucking idiot.”

Don’t ask me how this is resolved because i have absolutely no idea :)

[airandyeah]

By The Beach Merman Nanami X Reader pt.3

Part one: Here , Part two: Here Warnings: Mentions of sea witches, not-okay deals, coral reef village, MERMAN GOJO SATORU AND TOJI!!!, princess and the frog song quotes, uh, yeah. :) lemme know if I missed anything I should add <3

Nanami's pov: Third Person- Once he arrived home, he immediately sought treatment and afterwards was sent to see the king and elders. They chastised him... He had gone too far away from their living space, and that's why he got hurt. He told them of that... Woman. Yes, the.... pretty woman. She freed him, but in turn she made him feel like he was on fire, it burned so badly. That was all weeks ago now. He was sat in the small, and only bar they had here. There was a beautiful merwoman playing a song she had picked up from her grandmother, another merwoman who would always get too close to shore, but she learned the humans music that way. He thought about the woman from that day. Her pretty H/C hair, with those soft E/C eyes.... She seemed so upset. He wanted to see her again. She did save him... But how would he do that? He remembered tales of a man around here... a witch. He used to associate with far-away sirens, made friends with murderous merfolk, and finally settled here... Maybe he could make a deal to meet that woman again. Before he could get up to act on his thoughts, he suddenly heard that annoying, no good, motherfu- "Hey, Nanamin!!!", The voice cuts through. Nanami looks up and is met with white hair and the bluest of blue eyes.... Gojo Satoru. The most annoying, no good, mother- "Say Nanamin, you got a lady yet? The lil lady over there', he points in some unknown direction, 'was wonderin' if you were single. She thinks you're pretty... attractive, y'know?", Gojo asks him with that grin of his that Nanami just wanted to punch so badly a tooth or two fell out... "I'm single, but tell her I'm not interested...", Nanami told him. Gojo walks off to leave him alone. And he leaves. ~~~ A few days later he was knocking on the sea witches door. He needed to see that woman. Needed to thank her... in some way. A man answers the door... the witch. He wasn't expecting what he saw... A buffed up man, and where Nanami would normally find a tail, there sat inky black octopus tentacles. The man had black hair, black eyes, and he had a scar run along his lip. He also had a very... odd looking purple eel wrapped around his body. The witch smirks at Nanami and open the door wider to allow him in. Nanami tells the witch about the woman, and how he wants to be a part of the world she lives in... He wants.... Legs. The sea witch told him that he could do it. On the condition that he could make the woman fall in love with him within 2 months, he could keep the legs and stay with the woman. Nanami laughed. This man was joking right? There's no way he could 1. actually give him legs, or 2. expect him to make her fall in love when he can't even speak the same language. "Don't you disrespect me, little man.", The sea witch told him with a growl. "I can make the impossible happen, I promise ya, You're in my world now not your world and I got friends on the other side!", The water stirred around them, it felt dangerous. But Nanami was willing. Nanami nods at the man and he continues "Then sit down at my table, put your mind at ease, If you relax it will enable me to do anything I please", He did as the man instructed and sat at the small table. The witch goes on about the terms of the deal as he writes the terms down he continues talking.... In but a few moments, Nanami signed the papers and the man reached out his scarred hand "Shake my hand, come on boy, won't you shake the poor sinner's hand?", Nanami reached out his hand and clasped it with the witches. The water stirred more violently now, the man was cackling and Nanami felt he might throw up... "You're changin', You're changin', You're changin', all right! I hope you're satisfied, but if you ain't don't blame me!! You can blame my friends on the other side!", The man says, before Nanami's whole world goes black... ~~~ Thoughts????

[olderthannetfic]

I've read up about sensitivity readers as a service but something about it still feels off pouring to me? I get the concept and I guess on paper it's a noble cause, but idk if stories should be striving for "sensitivity" on the basis of a single reader/editor. Do you have any particular feelings or insight on the practice?

--

Sensitivity readers have been around for a while. When operating as intended, the practice is both good and not a big deal. They're just a cultural knowledge beta with a more inflammatory title.

The version that exists within a thousand miles of YA twitter and its ilk is a hot mess.

--

See, in the ideal circumstance, what these people should be is a paid editor who does a read for specific cultural gaffes.

They'd be working alongside the main editor who'd hopefully have time for developmental notes (okay, they never do this now, but ideally), copy editors, etc. A bunch of people are taking a look at this book before it goes out into the world. The sensitivity reader is merely more familiar with some particular area, probably their own cultural background, so they can spot things the rest of the editors and the author might miss.

It's just the more professional version of some dude writer being like "Hey, female friend, would you mind reading my manuscript and telling me what you think of the female characters?"

--

Now, near the cesspit of groupthink and intellectual incuriousity that is YA twitter and in other places like that, people have come to behave as though one sensitivity reader can read for everything, not just their own personal background. They talk as though there is one objective standard for whether something is offensive and as though causing offense is the worst crime in the world.

This attitude is poison, and it's how you get assholes passing themselves off as authorities on all ethnic strife ever, then writing cartoonish villains the minute they include a setting outside of the US.

(As a sidebar, it is deeply unsurprising to find that this jackass complained about women profiting off of m/m. Beware the people who think they personally are the unique arbiter of everything. It always devolves somehow into "Buy my book, not theirs".)

A lot of loudmouths desperately wish to do this work, always talking about it as though it's a beautiful opportunity to browbeat others for a lack of wokeness. It's always the biggest clowns too. (Mardoll, for example, while whining about the attack helicopter story.)

--

And yet, sensitivity readers exist outside of the toxic waste dump that is book twitter. I can see why the idea puts your back up, but it's time to unclench.

Yeah, one member of a minority is not the ultimate arbiter of what is Objectively Offensive Forever, but that's not actually a sensitivity reader's job. They're one set of feedback among various. There's no guarantee a copy editor will catch absolutely every typo either. If you had time for 5 sensitivity readers, maybe that would be useful, but it's probably more useful to pick someone you trust. Evaluating and paring down all the feedback you get is one of the major jobs of an author after all.

It's really no different than having a cop read over your crime procedural for silly Hollywood nonsense you didn't realize was false and a cliche.

We do this kind of double-checking over less fraught topics all the time without a problem. Writers just get very tense when they hear the term 'sensitivity reader' because it makes them think of mobs of wokescolds and of their book being secretly irredeemably racist. In reality, a good quality sensitivity reader might tell you that a joke doesn't land because of some cultural detail you missed. They're not there to harass you. They're a professional you hired to help with your book.

Sensitivity readers are fine as long as we treat them as what they are—cultural betas—and not as an official guarantee of Not Problematic And Can Never Offend Anyone.

[rainofaugustsith]

So the Open Library decision came down, and there's already a lot of hand wringing about it. Before you start waving torches about how this is all moneygrubbing Big Publishing flexing its muscle, I'd beg you to actually read the facts of the case. From the decision:

This appeal presents the following question: is it "fair use" for a nonprofit organization to scan copyright-protected print books in their entirety, and distribute digital copies online in full, for free, subject to a one-to-one-loaned ratio between its print copies and the digital copies it makes available at any given time, all without authorization from the copyright-holding publishers or authors? Applying the relevant privisions of the Copyright Act as well as binding Supreme Court and Second Circuit precedent, we conclude the answer is no. We therefore AFFIRM. (the previous decision). 1. This has never been about the Wayback Machine, Archive.org's historical collections, or out of print books. NOTHING in the court decisions prevent them from continuing that work. 2. This has never been about "libraries being able to have and lend books." 3. Yes. libraries do have ebooks and lend them out. They pay for the ebooks. There are licensing terms. 4. Open Library did not pay licenses. They rebuffed publishers when they were approached about it. They therefore want to claim they are a library without acting like a library.

Oh, and they were marketing this as a positive to other libraries: "get books for free! Don't pay! 5. The issue specifically is about new books, not the out of print stuff.

Here's the thing about that. Unless it ends up being a new timeless classic, most books make most of their money in their first year or so. If sales aren't good, it can impact future book contracts.

Here's the other thing about that. Most authors earn four figures or less annually for their writing, even if they are publishing with a major house. They almost always have to have at least one other job, and often several. I know so many writers who have several jobs just to make rent every month. Often, the money they get for a advance is the only money they ever see from the book - if they even get an advance, which is increasingly rare these days.

Thus, if that license is not purchased, it does hurt them - directly.

"But it's one license at one library!" Cool cool, can we just take a week of your salary and tell you "it's just one week, you won't miss it?" 6. Big Publishing! Money Grubbing Fiends!

Yeah, the big publishers did mount this lawsuit. Do you honestly fucking think that independent midlist writers making four figures a year had the money to hire attorneys to do it? They had the money, they did what the authors alone could not. 7. But people couldn't get the book otherwise.

Okay. Some of those books are like $2 as ebooks or used paper copies. If you can't afford that, there's this wonderful thing called the public library, where you can get a free library card and access to books online for free. Books that have been paid for. If you don't have access to a library in another country - I'm sorry. But this isn't the answer. Maybe when it comes to media you don't always get everything you want all the time. You know, like in the real world with grownups. I'd also add that you can keep using Archive.org's other services that were not questioned here which give you access to lots of other media, with older out of print books, magazines, etc. There are other websites like Issu which offer publications online for free, LEGALLY. This decision isn't the Last Chance Saloon for media access.

I know that a lot of you think authors and other creatives apparently are not entitled to get paid for their work like everyone else, or at least don't translate pirating to "the writer's not getting paid for this." Apparently they're supposed to work for free "for the love of it!" don't need to pay for food, healthcare and housing, and should smile whenever their stuff is pirated. So maybe it truly doesn't matter to you that the big issue here is authors not getting paid, I don't know. That's what it's about, though.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Azul, Jack: An Honest Effort

The first thought I had about the Groovy is… MAN’S BARELY OFF THE GROUND (as expected). I imagine that Azul aggressively insisted to the photographer they should lie on the ground to get a high angle shot of him on the broom just to give the false impression of him being higher up than he actually is.

I wanted to write about Azul coming to terms with accepting who he was, as well as shed a light on how hardworking he is. He didn’t just take the easy way out, he actually worked his ass off in all that he does. There’s many instances of Azul going above and beyond go improve, even for things he sucks in or for inconsequential things (flying in his P.E. Uniform vignette, rolling the dice in his School Uniform vignette). He deserves recognition for that.

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

“What do you do on your days off?”

“I don’t much like to be idle. Time is money, and I would prefer to not waste either,” Azul expelled a breath. “If you must consider it a ‘day off’, then... I wake up early, prepare myself a drink, and peruse the papers. When there is no work to be done, it’s all about self-maintenance.”

“I agree it’s important to take care of yourself, but... You’re basically still working at that point.”

“You could put it that way, yes. However, sharpening one’s mind is not just busywork. It’s also like a kind of training to strengthen the brain, similar to how one would train to strengthen their muscles.”

“Now that, I get.” Jack nodded. “There’s nothing like the burn after a good, honest workout.”

At this, Azul winced. “I fail to see the appeal of such a thing. It’s hardly a sensation that I’d call pleasant. However, I suppose it can be nice to physically feel the results of rigorous effort.”

“You should try it sometime then. You’d appreciate training the muscles if you worked up a sweat yourself.”

“... I do.”

The effect on Jack was immediate. The beastman’s eyes popped, jaw hanging open and fur standing on end.

“HUH?! Azul-senpai, you... train?! Seriously? I never thought I’d hear the word from your mouth!”

“Yes,” Azul replied, bristling. His voice was set in frost. “Is that really so difficult to believe?”

“It’s just--” Jack stopped himself and reconsidered. “You’re not the type of person I picture doing that kind of thing.”

“What does it matter if I am or not? Anyone is capable of exercise, and it is well within my right to do so.”

“Er… yeah, you’re right.” The shock quickly turned to shame, and Jack’s ears flattened, tail dropping. “Sorry. I got caught up in the moment and said something careless.”

“As your benevolent upperclassman, I will overlook your transgression and accept your apology made in earnest.”

Jack gave a small smile. “So tell me more about your training. What kind of exercises do you do? What made you want to start?”

“I try to work a little of everything to ensure that my body is evenly toned. As for what motivated me to begin… I suppose you could say that I was, in your own words, looking for a ‘good, honest workout’.”

“But unlike me, you’re not in an athletic club. You don’t like P.E. class either. When you talked about it earlier, it didn’t sound like you enjoyed training. I don’t think you’d go out of your way to do it for fun.” Jack folded his arms and furrowed his brows. “If you only wanted to get stronger, wouldn’t it be easier for you to make a deal and take someone’s strength?”

“Is that truly what you think of me?” Azul frowned. “You miss the point. What use is it to steal what you desire most rather than earn it for yourself? Would I really be able to call those traits my own? There is no pride to be had in that.”

“You didn’t have an issue with it before winter break.”

“Well…” A complicated look clouded the birthday boy’s features. “I was a different person then. Those things don’t have the same value as they once did. They’ve depreciated.”

In spite of the coldness of his words—the pointed truth of them—there, too, was a soft sadness slipping past his lips. Acknowledgement, and painful sympathy.

Azul was looking at Jack, but not clearly seeing him. His eyes seemed to be trained on something else, someone else, far off in the distance.

A sad little boy curled up in a pot, clouds of inky black tears coloring the water.

“… I was a different person then,” Azul repeated, this time more firmly. “I endeavor to be someone worthy of admiration through my own efforts. If I can be satisfied with my abilities, then it will steer me from walking along that dark path again.

“Be it flying, strength, or luck of the draw… I have always been aware of those shortcomings, in life, but what good comes out of it were I to stop there? What good comes from wallowing in doubt? That is why I will make something for myself, and why I must find my own strength through honest effort.”

I will accept the past and use it to guide me to the future. The “me” I wasn’t able to accept then… Someday, I will become strong enough to embrace him.

Jack stared at him hard. “Are you being honest with me?”

Azul chuckled faintly. “Why wouldn’t I be? What would I hope to possibly gain by deceiving you about my personal ambitions?”

“Towards the end, it didn’t sound like you were…” Jack paused, cocking his head to one side. “Are you even still talking about your Overblot anymore?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I was referring to that incident. What else would I be talking about?”

“You’re dodging the question again,” Jack sighed. “It’s good that you’re motivated to keep up that training though. With that kind of attitude, I’m sure you can reach the heights you’re dreaming of.”

“Urk! Must you phrase it like that?” He hurriedly glanced away, mumbling to himself under his breath. “And here I was, so carefully redirecting the conversation away from that!”

“Heh.” Jack allowed himself a smirk. “So even Azul-senpai has this kind of side to him, huh…”

“Wh-What side?!”

“You know, like a point of weakness. Vulnerable. Kind of squish—”

“AHHHH, DON’T SAY ITTTT!!” Azul pleaded, his volume and pitch spiking into a loud whine.

Jack deadpanned. “Yup. There it is, the squishiness.”

“A-Ahhhh… You went and said it anyway…” the birthday boy groaned, a hand to his forehead. He took a deep gulp of air and slowly exhaled. “… Excuse me, forget you heard that.”

“Why? Isn’t it good to be aware of your weaknesses? That way, you can find strength from them.”

Azul warily eyed him. “You’ve got some bite in you after all.”

“You keep me on my toes. Wouldn’t want you catching me off-guard someday.”

“My, I’m honored to hear that. I’ll have to work hard to keep up with that strong moral character of yours.”

“Good luck. You can work on that along with the muscles. Maybe I’ll see you at the gym or on the field sometime. Until then… show me what you’ve got.” Jack nodded at Azul’s broom.

“Hmph, very well. Prepare for me to deft your expectations, and bear witness to the fruits of my labor!!”

The merman mounted his broom, tensely straddling the handle between both legs. It was a posture he has practiced for hours on end—perfected and polished like a mirror, if not a little too stiff.

The moonlit air around him heated with magical energy, sparkles flickering among the flowers. Very slowly, his bouquet—and his feet—lifted from the ground.

And…

… Azul sluggishly chugged forward, only a few centimeters off of the ground.

“Uh… good job? … I think.” Jack searched for a compliment. “It definitely ‘defied’ my expectations like you said it would.”

Azul flushed.

“… N-Not a word of this to anyone, Jack-san!!” He sputtered back. “Solemnly swear to me that you will not share this with a single soul!!”

[baileypie-writes]

Hello. Can I request Cobraja, Sasorina and Kumojaki with S/O, who's unable to feel pain? Sorry if you're uncomfortable with writing it.

A/N ~ Sure! And don’t worry, I’m okay with it:) Hope you enjoy!

~The Heartcatch Villains with an S/O Who Doesn’t Feel Pain~

~~~🦂~~~✨~~~🗡️~~~

Fandom: Heartcatch Precure!

Fanfic Type: Headcanons

Reader: Gender neutral

Relationship: Romantic

Characters Included: Sasorina, Cobraja, Kumojacki

Genre: Mostly fluff, with a dash of angst

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, mentions of bleeding a lot(Sasorina’s bit), a bit angsty on Kumojacki’s part, envy(Kumojacki), abusive training(Kumojacki)

~Masterlist~

~Heartcatch Precure! Masterlist~

~~~🦂~~~✨~~~🗡️~~~

~Sasorina~

~~~🦂~~~🦂~~~🦂~~~

~ When you first told Sasorina that you didn’t feel pain, she honestly didn’t believe you. She thought it was impossible. She continued doubting you for a while, thinking that you were just good at hiding your pain.

“You don’t feel pain? Ha! Yeah, right!”

“I’m not lying, Sasorina.”

“Uh huh… Unless I see some real proof, I’m not believing it.”

~ It wasn’t until you had a major accident that she finally did believe you. I mean, you were lying there, practically bleeding out. Yet your face was neutral, and not a peep escaped your lips. She was shocked. You really were telling the truth!

“Oh my gosh! (name), are you okay? What am I talking about, of course you’re not!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. I should get stitched up soon, before I loose too much blood.”

“Yeah- wait. You’re not screaming or anything? Doesn’t that hurt a lot?”

“Nope. Though, I am getting light headed. I should get fixed up right away.

“Wow…”

~ After that incident, she became quite envious of you. She saw you as lucky. Pain is something that stops a lot of people from doing various things, yet you don’t have that problem. You could get stabbed, and just shrug it off! She’s so in awe, that she’s always asking questions about your “blessing”, as she likes to call it.

“So, if you cut off your finger, you wouldn’t feel it?”

“Well, I’d feel that my finger is missing, but in terms of pain, yeah.”

“Wow! You’re so lucky!”

“Yeah. I get that a lot.”

~~~🦂~~~🦂~~~🦂~~~

~Cobraja~

~~~✨~~~✨~~~✨~~~

~ Cobraja only found out about your “ability” when you got a paper cut from one of his autographs. He handed it to you, and became alarmed at the sight of the small cut. You stopped his attempted coddling, and told him that you didn’t feel it, or any pain for that matter. While he was shocked for a moment, it eventually morphed into awe.

“Oh, dear! My poor (name)! Are you alright? Paper cuts are truly a work of the devil!”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I don’t feel pain, so…”

“I beg your pardon?”

“…I don’t feel pain.”

*dramatic stare*

~ He admires your gift. He doesn’t enjoy pain himself. I mean, who would? So the fact that you don’t experience it, and possibly never have, makes him curious. He asks for the reason. If you give him one, he researches quite a bit about it, to answer all his questions. If you don’t have one, he just lets the curiosities eat him up from the inside.

“My goodness! How amazingly lucky, my dear! Is there a reason you don’t feel pain?”

“I don’t really know. I just… don’t. But I guess there’s no use in finding out. I just enjoy it.”

“You’re not wrong. I would certainly enjoy it if I had the same gift.”

~ Since you don’t know how painful things actually are, when Cobraja gets hurt, he ups the drama by at least 10%. He figures that you’ll still give him attention, since you wouldn’t know that it doesn’t really hurt that bad. He’d really do anything for attention.

“Owww! (name)! I stubbed my toe! It hurts!”

“Oh, are you okay?”

“No! Can’t you see how much pain I’m in?”

“….. Does stubbing your toe really hurt that much?”

“Unfortunately so…”

~~~✨~~~✨~~~✨~~~

~Kumojacki~

~~~🗡️~~~🗡️~~~🗡️~~~

~ Kumojacki didn’t think much of it when he first finds out. He has a very high pain tolerance, so he just thought you were the same as him. But once he saw just how much pain no pain is, he became jealous.

“Oh? You don’t feel pain? That’s interesting.”

“That’s it? Most people are weirded out.”

“Well I have a high tolerance to pain, so I’m similar to you.”

“I mean… kinda… I guess.”

~ Being strong both physically and mentally is something he takes pride in. All throughout any battle or training, he keeps a straight, tough face. Even when he gets hurt. So the fact that you’re better than him at not showing pain bothers him. So he began training himself, striving to become like you.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna take a break? You look pretty scratched up.”

“I am alright. You are free to leave if you’d like.”

“Oh. Okay then…”

~ It gets to the point that he refused medical attention, even when he was really hurt. He was so determined to not show any hurt on his face, that he wants to prolong the pain to “train” himself. Of course, you put a stop to it. You reminded him that you’re not good at not showing pain. You just don’t feel pain at all. Kumojacki then felt stupid. He completely forgot the point. But the good part is, his bad habit is no more.

“Why would you do this to yourself, Kumojacki?”

“I wanted to become more like you. I wanted to not show any signs of pain.”

“Kumojacki, the reason I don’t show any pain on my face is because I don’t feel pain at all! You do!”

“Oh… I see your point.”

“My gosh…”

~~~🗡️~~~🗡️~~~🗡️~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[andiatas]

Writing Scandinavian, Nordic &/or Swedish characters

Maybe someone has done a guide like this, and I've missed it, but I wanted to gather some words and phrases for all of my writer friends who have or are thinking about adding a character of Scandinavian/Nordic descent.

This came to mind after seeing too many LITG fics where people have Henrik speaking Swedish and no shade to the writers, but it was clear as a day to me that they used Google Translate and hoped for the best. That's not to say that writers from other communities and/or fandoms can't use this guide, but just to be transparent, that's where I got the inspiration from.

With all that said, let me talk you through some basic info and phrases so you can make your bilingual or trilingual character sound legit or like a native!

Definitions

The Scandinavian countries = Sweden, Norway and Denmark.

The Nordic countries = Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Greenland, Faroe Islands and Åland.

So, an important distinction to keep in mind is if you're talking about Scandinavia, you're talking about those three "bigger countries" (aka the ones who have f*cked over the rest at one point or another throughout history). As soon as you bring, for example, Finland or Iceland into the mix, you're talking about the Nordic countries.

Language

On the language aspect, I suggest checking out this post, where I've talked about it a bit, but as a general rule of thumb, Swedes and Norwegians can understand each other while still speaking their respective languages.

When Danes and Swedes, or Danes and Norwegians speak with each other, one generally switches to English. Same when communicating with people from Iceland.

Swedish is one of the official languages in Finland and Åland, whilst Danish is one of the official languages in Greenland and the Faroe Islands.

Also, English is taught from first grade until upper secondary (high school) but is already introduced to children in kindergarten. I don't know how it's in the other Nordic countries, but in Sweden, it's mandatory to study either Spanish, French or German from sixth grade until the first year of upper secondary.

Swedish swear words

Fan - this is the most common swear word in Swedish & whilst the most accurate translation would be "damn" it's used similarly to how "fuck" is used in English. So, this is the word I mostly see mistranslated & the tell-tale sign (for me) of someone who has relied on Google Translate because they will have their character say "knulla" when they're swearing. Technically, this isn't wrong because knulla is slang for sex... but yeah, I think you get it

Helvete - literally means "hell" & could probably be compared to how Brits use "bloody hell". If I got a paper cut or stubbed my toe, I would curse, "Helvete!"

Jävlar - this is the one that's most difficult to translate, but one could say it means "shit" or "sodding". Whilst it's a curse word in itself, it's primarily used in front of another word. So, for example, if you want to say, "You're a goddamn idiot", you would say, "Du är en jävla idiot!"

Swedish lovey-dovey words & pet names

Älskling = Darling, love, babe, beloved

Jag älskar dig = I love you

The word "älskar" is the Swedish word for "love", so if you bend it, you get the word "älskling" which is the most common term, or nickname, for your partner. I would say it's best compared to how darling, love or babe is used in English.

Käraste = Beloved, dearest

It can get confusing because "kæreste" means girlfriend/boyfriend in Danish, but in Swedish, "käraste" is just an affectionate word for someone. If you want to say "my dearest XYZ", you would say "min käraste XYZ". The word means girlfriend/boyfriend in Danish but is a nickname for your girlfriend/boyfriend or someone else close to you in Swedish. Are you still with me?

Hjärtat = literally "the heart"

This is a bit of a variation of "älskling." While talking to a partner or someone you hold dear, you would say "hjärtat," but if you're talking about them, you could say "mitt hjärta" ("my heart"). While älskling is more versatile and can be compared to numerous pet names, I would say hjärtat/mitt hjärta is best compared to love/my love.

Sötnos = Sweetheart, honey

Sötis = Cutie

Okay, so to start, "Sötnos" is the whole word, while "Sötis" is the short version, but they mean two completely different things. If you're talking to a partner or a really close friend and go, "Oh, sweetheart," you would opt for "sötnos." But if you're talking to someone from your friend group, you would opt for "sötis."

It's not an insulting word, but if you called your partner "sötis," they would probably be offended and question what they had done to offend you. I would compare it to when your dog does something stupid, like trip over its paws and hit its head, and you laugh at it like, "Oh sötis!"

[foxymoxynoona]

i have to tell you something. it’s important.

listen. i have read about close to 200 romance books this past year alone. (trust me im not exaggerating. you can take a peek at my storygraph and see for yourself the number ‘194’ on my read books list, and they’re all romance).

so you can trust and believe when i say that you’re by FAR the best romance author. the most insane thing about that? i read your writing for FREE. meanwhile i paid MONEY for those 194 books, and still, nothing on that list can top your writing.

the technical aspect of your writing ALONE is by far superior. i swear. i read these books and i wondered to myself, “does this author actually know how to write?” and i DID say that in my reviews once i was done with a book. but NOT YEW, miss foxy. oh no, not you.

not to mention your PROSE. your DICTION. good fucking lord. you know the term “page-turner”? yeah not only is your writing a page-turner, it’s also “eye-widener”. i just made that term up but it essentially means every WORD you write makes me want to quickly devour the next one. and the next one. and the next one. oh, did i mention that when i found your writing for the first time, i literally had to call in sick to work because i could NOT STOP READING SUGAR FAIRY??? I HAD TO CALL IN SICK TO WORK. BECAUSE MY EYES REFUSED TO SLIDE SHUT FOR SLEEP. THEY KEPT SCREAMING FOR ME TO DEVOUR EVERY FUCKING WORD IN THAT FIC.

and then your sense of humor. your dialogue. flowing and natural and never stilted. your characters actually talk like human beings. like us in real life. like i could actually HEAR them. because let me tell you something: A LOOOT of these published romance authors know jackSHIT about dialogue. got me questioning whether these authors actually ever spoke to a real person in their lives. it’s THAT bad. BUT NOT YEEEW. oh no, not you, miss foxy. your characters TALK LIKE REAL PEOPLE WITH TOP NOTCH HUMOR. YOUR HUMOR? UNMATCHED. AND YOURE SO GREAT AT TRANSLATING THAT HUMOR ON TO PAPER. meanwhile a lot of these romance authors attempted at humor and it just made me cringe. i cannot tell you how many book reviews ive done where i said “please don’t attempt at humor ever again”.

bottom line: you’re actually the ONE romance author who actually knows how to USE and WIELD words. you’re like THEE word-bender. (get it? avatar? sorry ill see myself out)

sorry. i just had to get this all out of my chest.

Sometimes I don't want to respond to an ask because I just want to keep it in m yinbox and read it over and over when I'm needing reassure. But this is also so flattering that I almost can't read it because it is crazy to me you'd have such nice things to say about my writing!

So thank you, thank you. Comments like this motivate me to work towards my hope of transitioning to a full time writer within the next couple of years... Maybe I can do it haha.

I love the dissection and analysis of writing. I think I'm probably miserable to talk about books with lol because whether I like a book or not is related but not the main focus of how I chew on them, I look at the sorts of things you mentioned and see what I can learn to do or not do. I think it's so cool how people's writing styles are so different and how there are so many ways ot be "good" but I do think I am finally feeling more like I have a style that works for me. I'm just relieved folks enjoy it 😅

Anyway all that's to say, thank you thank you. Your words of encouragement mean a GREAT deal to me and I will hold them close as I keep at it!

[sy-on-boy]

I just saw your post about how Damian is second place in everything and wow, that's a great finding! In the terms of brains, Demetrius is better. Even when he got his first stella, he's the second best in their grade. Then I saw the post about author who may or may not make an episode where he fall into the darkness. Why does it seem like he got nothing but angst tropes 😭

Yeah I saw the whole "darkness" thing too... it's so sad AAAA

And I think Damian got 11th overall in his grade during midterms? (Or something like that.) He literally BARELY misses out on top 10. I swear it's intentional. It's so painful that he literally gets second in history and that's how he gets his first Stellar. It's been established that he's good at history, even Anya knows, he got 94/100, but he's STILL the second best.

Damian being the second best has always been emphasized. It's literally how Loid views him, how Anya calls him, "Plan B", Loid noting Demetrius' grades were particularly excellent (compared to Damian), Ewen and Emile screaming they're the heirs to their family while "drowning" in that field trip (Damian is not the Desmond heir). Endo is amazing with details and he’s telling us again and again that Damian is the substitute. He’s never the priority. He might be Anya’s priority for Plan B, but that’s literally it, and Anya’s motivations for befriending him are impure. 

I guess that's also why Ewen and Emile are such precious friends to Damian. Damian's the leader of their pack, he stands in the middle, and for the first time in his life, he's not the "second best". He IS the best in their trio. Down to the field trip when Ewen and Emile, the heirs, start crying and asking Damian to live on for them and carry out their dreams. They want to pass on their dreams of being the heir to someone who actually won't become the heir because Damian is THAT important to them. And you can tell Damian does treasure his friends a lot. When he writes that short field report, he initially begins with "I", then crosses it out and writes "We saw a lot and did a bunch of stuff".

I think deep down, all Damian wants is attention and validation. He stupidly assumes Anya has a crush on him because he caught her staring at him, and he gets all flustered when she follows him. When Ewen and Emile go "uhh boss, maybe she's following you because...", Damian immediately assumes they think she has a crush on him, but what they really want to say is that Anya is only following him to get close to his dad (again, Damian is just a means to something else, he's never the priority).

... Wait, now I’m thinking about the handkerchief arc in Ch 61. Anya has helped Damian plenty of times, but it’s never really at her own cost? She defended him against George, encouraged him to talk to his father, “helped” him with the paper griffin, but Anya doesn’t lose much. On the other hand, Damian does sacrifice himself for Anya, most famously the dodgeball arc and when he purposefully picked the wrong card so he would lose out the macaron. (When it comes to it, even Damian himself is his own second priority compared to Anya. Geez.) But for the handkerchief, Anya literally gets a bolt to save Damian. When Damian realizes this, he tries to fix it because he is a Good Boy. Note that Damian was hesitant to push others (eg. Ewen) under the bus but ultimately decided he NEEDED to for his father. He would’ve taken Ewen’s handkerchief but it was too late. So in the end, Damian was begrudgingly willing to sacrifice one of his closest friends (but not Anya, apparently) to avoid a bolt. Except when realizing he took Anya’s only handkerchief, he was about to sacrifice HIMSELF so Anya would be safe. Because all in all, it is HIS fault that he didn’t bring a handkerchief. 

But Anya surprises him when she stops him from telling the truth. We know this is because Anya heard that they would each get 3 bolts for tricking the teacher, which is worse than either her or Damian getting a single bolt, so Anya made her decision logically. But from Damian’s POV, Anya sacrificed herself for him for No Particular Reason and even got a bolt (when she already has one). And I think that must had left quite the impact on him because like Ewen and Emile, Anya “sacrificed” herself for him. Damian was Anya’s priority even if it cost her. 

... Anyways, feeling bad for the Second Son Damian. At least he has a whole panel to himself in the ending, lmao.

This got super long, but I do like some angsty Damian analysis. Thanks for the ask <3

[pilothusband]

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie​ for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even. 

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.” 

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin. 

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree. 

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths. 

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment. 

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?” 

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.” 

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms. 

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair,  but your arms aren’t long enough to reach. 

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

 He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

 “Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

 He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing. 

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

 Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

 He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

 “Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

 You moan and break the kiss.

 “Want to take this to my room?”

 He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

 You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

 You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

 “I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

 “Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

 You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

 “So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

 It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

 Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

 “So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

 You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

 “We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern. 

 “No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

 You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

 Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace. 

 All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

 His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

 “Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

 You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly. 

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

 The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes. 

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

[mysticalrambling]

Ending It All Part 2 (C.E)

A/N: Here you go guys. Much awaited part 2 is here. I am so in love with this particular fan fiction and hope you guys like it. If you want me to write any blurbs related to this series, do let me know.I am open to requests.

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Part 1 

Chris Evans Fan fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Chris regrets divorcing you and he tries to mend the relationship. However, you have already moved on with Tom Hiddleston and are quite happy. He has to just stand back while you and your children become closer to Tom and it is all his fault.

Warnings: Angst all the way.

._._._._._.

“Coming in?” Chris turned his face towards you with a questioning look in his eyes.

“No, I have some work. Just wanted to drop the kids off myself.” Your ex husband’s house was on your way so you just saved him a trip.

“Not even for coffee, darling?”

“Sorry but I will have to say no.” You still got flustered when he called you with nicknames. You had once decided to tell him to stop calling you with all these terms of endearment but you couldn’t build up the courage to do it.

It has been over a year since your divorce and the moment you think you are over him, he is right there to bring those feelings back. You were a mess when he moved out and you had to see him on the weekends for the kids. It looked like you were drowning and you couldn’t come up for fresh air. It was exhausting but after several months, it didn’t hurt that much. It didn’t feel like your heart was tearing into shreds. You felt numb but that was better than feeling like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“That’s fine. See you Sunday?”

These were the only few sentences that were spoken between the two of you since the divorce. This was your new normal and you were starting to adjust to it. “Yeah, bye.”

“Who wants pancakes?” Sighing, he turned around and asked in a fake, cheerful voice. He didn’t get to be disappointed. These were the the seeds that he sow and he had to reap the results.

“I do.” A collective chorus came from the living room as they had already started to play with Dodger. Dodger was adopted from a shelter home about two weeks into the divorce. Loneliness was a destructive force and Chris hadn’t come to that realization until he was sitting in his home at eight, all alone. No laughter, no mess, no companionship. He went out that day and got a new dog. The apartment was eating him alive because it was a reminder of his ‘new life’. More like his ruined life.

“Daddy, you goin’ to be there for my match?” Jace looked up at his father and hoped that he wasn’t going to say no. There have been too many occasions this past year where he was not there for his children like Easter or Mia’s first day of school. He was either too busy with his career or he couldn’t bear to be with his family knowing that he wouldn’t be going home with them. He wasn’t strong enough to handle that truth.

“I’ll be there but I have work afterwards so I can only be there for half time.” The apologetic tone was all too familiar to the kids now so they just stayed quiet.

Chris noticed their disappointed look and continued, “When I get back, we’ll go to Disneyland for the whole weekend.”

“Mommy and Tommy will be going as well?”

Stopping in between making the pancakes, he asked with a venom laced tone, “Tommy who, Jace?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We like him.” Your son continued petting the dog without realizing the damage he is doing to his father. “New friend” was always a code for boyfriend and Chris didn’t know what to do with that information.

He knew that you had gone on a few dates with Tom Hiddleston because of the paparazzi. But he didn’t know that you both were serious. Your kids knew about him so it was pretty damn serious.

“He won’t be going with us.” Speaking with finality, he resumed cooking. You were his and that was not going to change. He knew he was being unfair but when it came to you, he lost all rationality.

“But he is our new dad.” Mia whined from her place and Chris just looked at her with a wounded look. His babygirl was putting someone else in his place.

His voice boomed throughout the house and both the kids looked at him with tears in their widened eyes, “I’m your only dad. Don’t you ever say that.”

“‘m sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you mad.” Her chin wobbled and Chris was quick to realize his mistake. It was not your children’s fault. It was not your fault. It was his fault.

“Not your fault, baby. But you only have one daddy and that’s me.” Kissing her forehead, he wiped the single tear that managed to escape her blue eyes.

“’kay.” The kids got distracted again but Chris did not forget. He was still seething from the inside because Tom may have taken you away from him but he damn well couldn’t take his children.

They all get ice cream afterwards and the kids fall asleep in their rooms that Chris built from scratch. It was a lengthy process because he just kept remembering the times when he decorated their nursery with you. Such a beautiful memory and he was ruining it. The guilt ate him up inside when he realized that he may not get to ever decorate a nursery for your children again. He may not get to expand his family with you again. Again, it was his fault.

“Sorry, ‘m late. Work was hectic today.” Everything was so busy today because your boss signed up a new contract and he has been impossible to work with. You just wanted to go home and sleep for the whole week.

“It’s okay. They’re sleepin’ upstairs. Listen, we need to talk.” He was too consumed by anger and hurt to notice that you were too exhausted for everything.

“Go on.” You urged him, figuring that he might say that he won’t be able to make it to your son’s match. This was what most of your conversations were based on; him saying that he is too busy to be present at occasions related to your children.

“Why are my children referring to your boyfriend as dad?” He nothing but spat that sentence.

“I- I didn’t know about any of this. I’ll talk to them.” Stuttering, you tried to mediate the situation but nothing seemed to get through to him at the moment.

“No need. I already did that but for next time, keep your boyfriends away from my children.”

“Our children and I don’t let anyone near my children. We are serious.” You were offended by his crude tone and you weren’t just going to let him walk all over you.

“You can’t be serious with him. As a matter of fact, you can’t be serious with anyone.” Your ex husband declared it like it was a law. He didn’t know how to react to what you said. All the pain was converted into anger because that was his current form of expression.

“Are you serious?” This was all too much for you to handle. How could he say that?

“Yes. You only belong with me. I regret it so much (Y/N).” Chris’s expressions told you where he was going.

“Oh, stop. You can’t just do that. Can’t come bargin’ in my life and mess it all up again. I am happy.”

Chris reached out his hand but you took a step back. He was not allowed to touch you anymore. “I was mistaken. My career is not above you, darlin’. Never was.”

“You made me feel worthless. You made me feel as if I was the reason our marriage ended. Won’t allow myself to get sucked back into this relationship.”

“I know I broke our family. I tore us apart and didn’t even apologize for it properly. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” There was a stream of tears running down his face and you wanted to wipe them away but you resisted.

There were still times when you wished that you were still happily married to Chris. That you still had your perfect, little family. The divorce made you feel worthless and lonely. There were times when you couldn’t even look at your children because they were the exact replica of your ex husband. You once adored the fact that they were his carbon copy. However, now you couldn’t help but get angry. How could he leave little pieces of himself behind and think that you could move on with your life.

It was all because you were with another man. He never said all these things when you were alone and you suffered from depression. There were days when you couldn’t get out of bed to get your kids ready for school. You knew that Jace had informed him because he was really worried about you and he always shared his troubling thoughts with Chris. But he didn’t do anything about it. He stayed quiet and you had to pull all the pieces back together yourself. It was all tape and glue. Your ex husband didn’t get to come back and dismantle your progress. You wouldn’t let him.

“You can’t do this. Can’t come back. I am with Tom now so stop trying to fix things that you already broke.” Your face was red with anger and all the energy was drained out of your body.

“Please, just give me a chance.”

“No!” You couldn’t choose Chris again. You had to choose yourself. You chose to think about your needs and your feelings for the first time in seven years. That’s why you agreed to go on a date with Tom. He surpassed your expectations the first time and you knew that he could be your partner. No one could compare to Chris but Tom made his own place in your heart and you were glad about it. You continued on, “Tom is good for me so please don’t ruin my happiness again.”

Tom was great. He was good with the kids and he was slowly becoming an integral part of your life. You still missed Chris because that man was the love of your life for seven years and those feelings can’t just disappear with a single piece of paper. You were glad to have Tom in your life and you knew that as time would pass, you will love him with your whole heart. However, a small part of you would never forget Chris and would always wonder about the what ifs. What if you were still together? What if you had more children? What it you got to grow old together? Broken dreams are what hurts the most.

“I don’t want to be a cause of that. Not again. But I want to make things right.” He unintentionally came closer to you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Sorry I wasn’t there for our kids. Sorry that I broke you, baby.”

“A sorry doesn’t fix anything.” His chest was hallowing from inside out but he didn’t want to back down. Not now. Not ever.

“Just answer one question for me. Are you truly happy?” A tremble was prominent in his voice but you tried to ignore it.

“I-I am. For a long time, I wasn’t but I am now.” You spoke with such conviction that he knew you were over him.

You would always love Chris but now it was time for you to move on with your life. It was time to leave the past and delve into the future. Chris would always own a piece of your heart but you are going to allow Tom to have an opportunity as well. You will open your heart again to love. You were sure now.

“Okay. I will get the kids for you.” He backed off like he promised he would. You knew at that moment that it was all over.

Watching you drive away with his kids was heart breaking for him and he just watched helplessly. Chris still wanted to cry, beg and apologize. He wanted you to take him back but it was all his fault. He ruined you once, he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t interrupt your new life. It doesn’t all revolve around him but he was okay to remain on the sidelines while you enjoy your life. He will be there for you if you needed him.

You are happy and that should be enough for him but he wants to be selfish again. He wants to fight for you but it’s all too late. You were with someone else. He lost his chance.

Wednesday rolled in pretty quickly and Chris dreaded going to the match. You were going to be there with your new boyfriend but he didn’t want to miss his son’s game. He could only be there till half time already so it wouldn’t be that awkward.

“I just wanted to be here for Jace. Won’t cause any problems.” Chris took a seat beside Mia when he saw you shifting uncomfortably. The seat that should have belonged to him was currently being occupied by your boyfriend but Chris just bottled up all his feelings. It was not right to still think of you as his wife.

“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about everything.” You wanted to move on and did not want anything to hold you back.

“Okay. Mia, you want Kit Kat?” Offering her a large chocolate bar, he started talking with his daughter so that he could distract himself from you and Tom.

“What is happening, love?” Tom questioned when he saw that his former co-star did not even glance at him properly.

Chris and Tom were not the best of buds but they were still good acquaintances. He thought that dating you wouldn’t be a problem because Scarlett had informed him that Chris was the one who asked for divorce. However, this situation made him realize that Chris was jealous. He still had feelings for you and Tom didn’t know how to react to that.

“Nothing of importance. Let’s just focus on my baby boy.” Saying that, you cheered for Jace as he made his first goal. He was an exceptional player like his father and you knew that he would pursue football as his career. Jace was really passionate about football. If Chris didn’t become an actor then he would have definitely tried out for football.

There were times when he used to take you to the park so you would play with him. It was your thing. Maybe he had replaced you with someone by now as well but what you didn’t know was that Chris had stopped playing football altogether. Like many things in his life, it reminded him of you and it was just too much to bear.

“You are doing great, buddy.”Jace immediately asked Chris to pick him up as you gave him his Captain America water bottle. It was half time and Chris had to leave for shooting. He was getting late but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Thank you, mommy. Ollie doesn’t listen to me that much so coach is angry at him.” Babbling on, he rested his head on his father’s shoulder.

“Okay, buddy. I have to leave now but I will call you when your game is finished.”

“Won’t be going with us to Chick-fil-A?”

“Uhh-” He cluelessly glanced at you because he didn’t know what his son was talking about.

“I wanted to give him a treat after the match.” Tom butted into the conversation to prove that he was a part of the kid’s lives as well.

Chris could have actually made it to the restaurant because he would be free in an hour tops. However, he decided against it. He had to take a step back for you. Of course, he would be there for his children but Tom should be given a fair chance as well.

“I won’t be able to make it buddy. You enjoy with Mommy and Tom. I’ll take you and Mia to Disneyland this weekend as I promised.”

“Okay, daddy. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” Giving him to you, he turned to leave. It was hard for him to do this but it had to be done. Chris wiped his eyes discreetly as he saw you all laughing together. This was his fault and he would have to bear the consequences.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

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A/N: This story had me in tears from the very start. I cried when I was writing it. Again, I am open to blurbs for this series and other requests. Tell me if you want to be added to my tag list.

Tag list: @peculiarpenman, @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @iguessweallcrazyithinktho, @jessyballet, @caanyoonmoon, @coldmuffinpartycloud, @marvelfansworld, @agnesk, @lauracontisstuff, @deepintothenature, @xcaptain-winterx, @nostxlgia18, @sophiaedits , @luckyladycreator2, @mrspeacem1nusone

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P.S. If you want blurbs and epilogue related to this series, please send in requests. I will need some ideas.

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