#compared to now where I have not seen anyone talk about it

[occultopossum]

Man , knowing that there is a karkat plushie on makeship rn if it was 2014, could you imagine how feral people would of gone

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[nerdyfan1]

Ok guess talking about A New Wish again cus I got invested lol

Anyways maybe it’s a me thing (it’s definitely a me thing) but, I do get a little sad when ppl act like Peri doesn’t care about or straight up hates Dev. I’ve seen a few rbs and tweets it’s not a lot but, it did make me think about this. See I actually got the opposite impression of what we’ve seen of the dynamic. Peri cares a bunch for the kid and Dev doesn’t dislike him just still struggling to trust him. We’ve seen him take awhile to trust ppl and let his mask down for Hazel. She also seems to be the only one who got to him so far.

So Peri is going through what a lot of parents do, ending up with a kid they weren’t prepared for. Bro seems mostly tired. If anything I feel if Peri was to be mad at anyone it not be Dev, it be the fairy department who assigned him a very obviously tougher case that a newbie as himself wasn’t equipped to handle. Dev by no means is a bad kid but, he’s more complicated compared to his god kid counterpart in Hazel. She definitely has her own issues (hence why Cosmo and Wanda wanted to help her) but, she’s more well adjusted than what’s going on with lil Dimmadome over there.

I’ve seen someone mentioned Peri was screwed over by the Fairy Department here which I 100% agree with. In fact I’ll go a step further and say they both were. Just like Peri should have been given a kid who he could more reasonably handle Dev should have gotten a gotten a fairy that had more experience so they could properly handle his issues. Yet despite all this I actually like that they were paired up this way.

It was a unfair yes but, also really irrelevant thinking about this. Cus given how the episodes been going so far I definitely see these two having an arc about Peri learning to appreciate his parents while letting them know he’s his own man now. While Dev is gonna learn to continue to open himself up to others. Eventually growing to trust Peri and see him as a dad. You given who his actual dad is like.

I take these two so seriously guys. I don’t think I’ve seen a fairy and god kid relationship like this. Most of them are usually at least got along relatively well. Honestly no not here. Peri and Dev pair up feels like it is set up to fail yet the idea they still in the end up making it work and get to see each other eye to eye is great. I have a strong feeling that where this is heading.

I’ll give them a bit and they’ll be like the sweetest adopted father and gay son dynamic. 💞

Edit: Wtf where all these notes coming from? I’m at least glad to see ppl agree with me here. I’m beyond happy he got Peri btw. Even if in universe it probably was a mess up or The Fairy Department fucking shit up lol

[avocad1s]

Requests are open and the latest sparked some ideas so…

Imagine the reader not having specific favorites, but more groups favorites, like a reader that’s a big fan of the Knights of Favonious or The Akademiya

Note: KoF, Adepti, Akademiya, Fatui, and the Abyss mentioned with some small snippets from characters in those groups. But all of them have a small overview of how they view your favoritism over them.

The Knights Of Favonius are pretty humble unlike the other nations. Although they may be criticized by a certain tavern owner, even he won’t question your favor towards the Knights (openly). Having your favor feels like a blessing from the Anemo Archon, many of them even believe that handling the stormterror incident themselves made them win your favor.

Although he isn’t around currently, daddy I mean— Varka feels a sense of pride knowing he left the wellbeing in Mondstadt in good hands. He is looking forward to finally meeting you once he returns. Jean constantly overworks herself, but she’s knows that it’s worth it if she can keep your favor. Mondstadt might seem “inadequate” when compared to other nations when it comes to where you should stay but Jean will make sure you’re never uncomfortable.

When it comes to your comfort, Jean would turn to Diluc, he may not be apart of the Knights but he does own the Dawn Winery and everyone knows you’ll enjoy staying there. Outrider Amber will make it her responsibility to guide you to the heart of Mondstadt and back to Dawn Winery during your entire stay. She’ll teach you how to glide! Just be sure not to mention that to anyone else… some might be upset that she could’ve put you in danger.

Speaking of danger, Klee adores being able to play with you! She will take you fish blasting! Yes it can be a bit dangerous but it’s fun! However once someone realizes that Klee and Their Grace hasn’t been seen in a while, they begin to panic. Usually Albedo, Kaeya or Rosaria are the ones to find you first, then the fun is over. (Klee may or may not get solitary confinement 💀)

Kaeya is a smooth talker and very charismatic that it’s difficult to discern just how flustered he’ll get in your presence. He’ll use his good talking skills to get you to himself, usually inviting you out to Good Hunter or even for a drink (if you’re a drinker) but being in your presence and knowing that he is apart of the group you openly favor over anyone else in Teyvat makes him tremble. Although in front of you he’ll just give a simple smile and charm you with his flattery.

———

Oh the Adepti are so respectful towards you. I mean, they served directly under Rex Lapis for centuries. They do not allow mortals to disrespect Rex Lapis, I’d be surprised if they even let anyone have a thought that could be considered disrespectful towards you. They feel a sense of pride knowing that they are your favorite. However unlike the others, they aren’t too vocal about it.

Sharing tea with you is by far their favorite thing to do. Inviting you to Jueyun Karst to enjoy the finest of tea and meals while reminiscing about Liyue’s past is something they all always wanted. During the Archon war, while they all fought for Rex Lapis, everything was still in your name. So now that Teyvat is at peace, (for now) they just want to enjoy an eternity with you.

Xiao is usually the one who tries to stay away from you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be around, far from it, but in his mind he feels as if he’s only useful to you if you’re in danger. When you spend time with the adepti he is unsure if he should come. Would you even want him there? But the second he hears you call his name, he’ll appear no matter what. Prepared to face any danger you might be in… but there’s none. In fact it’s just you, Cloud Retainer, Moon Carver, Mountain Shaper, and Ganyu. Xiao would remove his mask and place down his polearm silently enjoying his time in your presence.

Xianyun who has just recently began visiting Liyue Harbor in her human form again is definitely most open when it comes to you. Spending all her mora to buy things she knows you’ll like (and getting scammed) and inviting you to join her and Shenhe for tea. If you’re not in the mood for tea? Why don’t the two of you dissect these new human inventions that managed to capture her interest. How exactly does this machine from Fontaine keep a kite floating?

———

The Akademiya values their wisdom over anything else, and now they have your favor? Well, they’re kinda smug about it, you know? Many of them already believed they were better than the other nations (cough, cough, the Grand Sage) and having you in their corner might just make them a bit more insufferable. Unless it’s after Nahida takes back the reign.

The Akademiya would prefer if you stayed in Sumeru. The second you’re ready to settle down, Kaveh will be the first to approach you, he would be honored to be the architect that builds your palace. Mora is no problem! (Because no one would dare charge mora for Their Grace) No matter, Kaveh is very good at what he does, do you have any preferences when it comes to the construction? Please tell him, he strives to make you happy and show off his skills to you.

The acting grand sage of the Akademiya, Alhaitham enjoys living a comfortable life and is not fond of being in the role of a leader. The second someone worthy comes around, he will resign as the acting grand sage and return to his previous position as the scribe who was never around during working hours. Despite his… unambitious tendencies (only doing what’s necessary), he’ll try when it comes to you. If there is something you desire or some type of knowledge you going through the Akademiya for, he’ll offer his help. Although he can be pretty nonchalant, he does enjoy being in your presence and if your favor towards the Akademiya began after he took on the role as acting grand sage, his ego may swell a bit.

———

As if the Fatui didn’t have enough power across Teyvat already and now you favor them. Her Majesty and the harbingers are extremely grateful of having your favor in their corner, but they are definitely going to exploit this. It’s so easy for them to obtain more and more power in the other nations with the simple use of your name.

However even thought the Fatui can all collectively agree that having your favorite benefits them all, they are still incredibly selfish with their own intentions. The second you enter the Zapolyarny Palace, the harbingers are quickly scheming on ways to get you to themselves.

Pantalone, by far the richest of all the harbingers, will always offer to take you shopping. You’re the Creator! You can have as much jewelry, clothing, and other accessories as you want. Just be sure to follow him before one of the others pull you away.

Arlecchino is fully aware just how… unsettling her true side might be to you. But worry not! If there is one person who can keep her sane, it’s you! Want to see a magic show? Or maybe even an opera? She’ll take you! Cracks of her true personality might show if the others try stealing you away though.

Capitano is truly a legend on the battlefield, no matter how the others feel about him. One thing none of them will never deny is his strength. He holds a sense of righteousness that some (one puppet in particular) criticize. But his righteousness shines through with you. If you show any interest in learning to fight, he would be honored to teach you. Or maybe you already have incredible abilities, you are the God of Gods, he would love to test his strength against yours. No matter who wins, he’s willing to go again and again… just don’t go to a certain ginger asking for a sparring match.

Pierro, the first to be betrayed by the Seven when they destroyed his home. Many would think he would hold some type of resentment towards you, but he doesn’t. He is the director of the harbingers and they listen to his orders (usually coming from the Tsaritsa) so when you visit Snezhnaya he is usually the one to assign one of the harbingers to look after you. However he’s not afraid to use his power so he can be the one to look after you. Much to the other’s dismay.

———

You favor… The Abyss? Sorry, I need to rub my eyes and read that again.

No one understands your favoritism towards the Abyss. “They hate humanity Your Grace… Perhaps you should stay away from them?” Is what you hear all the time. But no one can technically force you to stay away… not to mention no one really knows what the Abyss actually is.

Very few know of the leader of the Abyss, the Prince/Princess or rather the travelers sibling. They can’t see you as often as they’d like but on the rare occasions they can, they love speaking to you about their plan. Sometimes they’ll even ask you questions about the traveler, curious how their journey of meeting the Seven is going.

Although he is not apart of the Abyss, at least not anymore. Even Dainsleif wonders what about the Abyss is appealing to you. Even if you do not know it, he’ll be sure to keep an eye on you just in case anyone or anything tries to harm you.

Note: While I was writing this and reading about some of the harbingers personalities on the fandom wiki, I might have accidentally gave myself a crush on Capitano 💀 I just know he is fine under that mask.

© avocad1s 2024

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 28: we aren’t a couple

It was mostly your voice that filled the silence between you and the man beside you. Some effort from him was apparent though, as seen with his occasional quips and playful remarks. Truthfully, it wasn’t that he was lazy to retort, or that he had nothing to say. Rather, it was just that he had much more to listen to than tell.

Scaramouche swore he would never tell anyone, but he loved listening to the little parts of you — the little parts of your day, the cute memories you have, all the stories you had for him. He loved reading your daily messages, of course. But nothing can ever compare to how much he loves hearing your voice as you talk comfortably with him.

Your steady footsteps as you continued to freely tour around Scaramouche’s campus came to a stop when you felt a cool fabric suddenly sit on your shoulders. A navy blue varsity jacket with white sleeves.

The representative colors of Scaramouche’s own university.

“Why are you putting your jacket on my shoulders?” You rambled as you walked. “For your information, I am not a clothing rack.”

“You really are stupid.” Scaramouche playfully flicked your temple. “I’m giving you my jacket because it seems you aren’t even aware that you were slightly shivering.”

“Kuni, you’re also stupid.”

“What?”

“‘Giving’ is when you’re handing something to someone without planning to get the item back. You should call it ‘lending’ instead.”

“Who said I had plans to get my jacket back from you?”

“Huh?”

“I want you to keep it.”

“But this is your varsity jacket! You use this in games, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah. But I have lots of those, so don’t worry.” He said as he lightly rested his arm above your head.

That was now the second jacket of his that he asked you to keep.

Matching his footsteps with yours, he came to a halt when you did. “Can we sit there, Kuni?”

Scaramouche’s eyes followed to where you were pointing. It seemed you were talking about the several benches in the wide field located in the heart of their campus. He was about to nod when a certain information he recalled reading on an online thread during freshman year suddenly flashed in his mind.

“Absolutely not,” he frowned as he crossed his arms.

“What?” You whined. “But my feet are killing me!”

“There’s a saying about these benches.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. People say that couples who sit together on these benches will break up.”

“But we aren’t a couple…” You trailed off, seeing Scaramouche’s mood subtly going down due to your words. He always had an honest face.

You cleared your throat. “Well then, just to be safe… Why don’t we sit on the grass instead?”

You see the corners of his lips curve a little.

“Okay, let’s do that then.”

You both continued with what you were doing prior to seating on the field. You talked and talked, and he listened and jested. As much as you loved how genuine of a listener he was, you craved more of his voice and stories.

“I’m actually starting to think this is unfair, Kuni.” You feigned a frown. “Why am I always the one who does the talking?”

“Are you getting bored of me now?”

“What? No!"

“I just… Isn’t there anything that you want to tell me? Open up or talk about or share? Anything at all?” You tried to keep up with his stare. “I just feel bad that I am always the one that does the ranting and you always listen, but I can’t even repay you by lending an ear.”

He avoided your gaze. “You being there for me always is enough,” Scaramouche uttered lightly, enough for you not to hear. Instead, he just let out a deep sigh. “Okay then. It’s my turn, I guess.”

You smiled, thinking he was going to start light.

You thought wrong.

Scaramouche immediately started with how his coach — which was also his mother — was harsher on him than on the other members of the team. Harsh trainings, hectic routines, and high expectations seemed natural to him. You even began to contemplate whether what you’re hearing is still a relationship of a mother and a son, or that of a tenacious coach and her promising trainee.

“She wasn’t always like that though,” he said softly. “Believe it or not, I have memories of when she was so gentle and loving with me.”

“She only started becoming like that when I became firm with my decision of being a soccer player.”

‘But was that even enough for her to change so drastically?’ You thought. Maybe there’s another reason?

“It would’ve been easier for me to hate her if I didn’t have any fond memories of her, don’t you think?”

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

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[obae-me]

I have been asked to expand on the MC with trauma scenarios, and you know what, I need the comfort, so let's do it! (No these are not based on myself, I don't know what you're talking about....)

Also I've seen a ton of people's responses to the last one and just know that I am spiritually patting you all on the head and wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.

--

MC with ~Trauma~ PT 2!

Imagine an MC who has been mocked, berated, or criticized for their joys and hobbies. They don't do those things anymore or go to great lengths to hide them.

They never share their writing or their art with anyone. They are surrounded by demons and angels much more talented than them. The thing that they felt they were moderately talented in is below average compared to these beings... Everything they create is hidden in secret digital folders or kept in notebooks under their mattress or tucked in secret spots on their bookshelves.

They never sing or dance or play their instruments. They almost avoid the music room altogether. It's almost too painful for them to think about. If they attend a dance they just stand off to the sides... They don't participate in karaoke. They don't hum to their favorite songs.

They hardly cook, or garden, or read, or edit, or color, or knit, or crochet, or embroider, or anything else that they might enjoy.

Imagine some of the nosier brothers not realizing the pain that hides behind their passions and either playfully spying on them or digging up their secrets. Their hearts are fully destroyed when their human breaks down in tears. Now, every single day, every character encourages them to do what they love and giving them private time and space to do it in a place where they feel safe. They all hope that maybe one day MC will feel comfortable enough to share what they love with them but they will never pry it out of them, and all the while giving them the support they need behind the curtain.

Imagine Satan, Levi, and Mammon grouping together and creating a PowerPoint presentation. With Satan's organizing skills, Levi's technological know-how, and Mammon's morally grey skills of espionage, they gather all the characters together and teach a class on what to do and not to do around MC. Things like having a clear voice in text messages to keep them from having anxiety. Or not slamming doors, not entering their room without knocking, reminding them to drink water, knowing when to give them time to breathe etc. Everyone takes it seriously (some might say too seriously), including Belphie who didn't even sleep for a second during the whole thing.

What about an MC who takes on too much and never says anything about it? At first, Lucifer, Barbatos, and to a lesser degree Diavolo, are pleased that they've found a human with a strong work ethic and a love for responsibility. Little do they know that while part of that might be true, they are doing it because they are non-confrontational, a people pleaser, or try to prove their worth through success (or all of the above). They burn themselves out and forgo their other needs to conserve all their energy for the work that's been given to them, and it's not until it becomes a serious health issue that anyone really notices. They all take a blow when they come to know how much they had been pushing a human beyond their capabilities. So they tell MC to do less, not expecting the human to try and convince them that it wasn't an issue, maybe even apologizing for failing. Now they all have to keep an eye on MC and make sure they don't take things too far, and make sure that MC knows that their worth isn't tied to how much gets done in a day and they don't think of them any less for taking breaks or time for themselves. And maybe they all learn to take care of themselves a little more for it too. Especially one work-a-holic demon known as Pride.

How about an MC that hates the way they look? No matter what that might be. Body size, shape, height, skin-tone, skin-color, scars, blemishes, freckles, etc. What if it was drilled into their head since they were a child that they were not beautiful? What if they can't look into the mirror or take any photos of themselves without feeling sick? How about being around a demon like Asmo? Maybe resenting him, maybe avoiding him, maybe wishing they were like him. It probably would hurt Asmo to see someone hating themselves and their body so intently. Maybe it's because it reminds him of himself. Maybe they both have to sit down and rethink what beauty really means? It's a long process for both of them.

All of them work with the human with their image and not in a shallow way like trying to deny the things they have and who they are. They find ways around pictures, because there are more ways to keep memories rather than selfies and commemorative photos.

Or what if:

Beel: *In MC's room.* Alright, we'll just do some basic stretches.

MC: Okay, just tell me what to do.

Beel: Well, if you want, you can put on some music to make it more relaxing.

MC: Music? *Looks a little nervous.* If you want...

*MC then turns some music on their phone on the lowest setting and sets it on their bed.*

Beel: Um...you can turn it up more than that if you want.

MC: Louder? Really?

Beel: Don't you think it's a little quiet?

MC: Oh...um...okay... *turns it up by one more click.* Is- Is that okay? I can turn it down again.

Beel: *Opens his mouth, confused for a moment before shutting it again. In the quickest second, he's in his demon form.* Who do I need to find?

MC: B-Beel?!

[after-witch]

The Driven Snow [Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Reader]

Title: The Driven Snow [Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Reader]

Synopsis: You're a District 2 school graduate who comes to the Capitol with her father before the 11th Hunger Games. You don't expect to meet anyone kind, especially not someone named Coriolanus Snow who offers you his arm, his smile, and treats in secret. 

Word Count: 5270

notes: yandere, abusive relationship, non-graphic descriptions of torture and death (not against reader); uses a mixture of book and movie canon

The Capitol was not as dazzling as your father described it but then, he had seen it before the war. Though perhaps it was your own bitterness that made you ignore the signs of returning prosperity that sets it above everywhere else.

The repaired elaborate buildings, the fresh pungent smell of plaster and paint. The cars pumping exhaust fumes into the air. The low rumble of garbage trucks that pick up bright green garbage cans, some of which are actually teeming with plastic trash bags. Such waste was unheard of, even in the oh-so-loyal District 2, where only the lowest of the low find themselves starving.

Although not-starving didn’t mean that everything was plentiful. 

You, though, were lucky enough to avoid the lima bean heavy diet that some of your classmates (now former--graduation was months ago) lived on. Or were you? The meat that graced your family’s dinner table, the pats of butter on toast, were all courtesy of your father’s  immense talent in building creative weapons that allowed the Capitol to stamp out every last bit of rebellion in the Districts. That allowed them to regain control. That allowed them to create the Hunger Games.

Which is why you were in the Capitol now. Oh, not to participate in them. Your father’s status in District 2 had seen to that; it would be a scandal if the name of his beloved daughter were to ever be pulled. 

You were there because your father had been given a lucrative contract, one that was sure to cement your family’s wealth for generations: a contract to build high-tech weapons for the Hunger Games themselves. 

They would still be killing. But on a much smaller scale, you supposed, than the weapons your father designed during the war. 

Still. Blood was blood. And if it had to be spilled, well, there was nothing you could do about it except hope they died quickly. Especially the ones from District 2.

Last year’s Games’ had been awful enough. Your family had watched the Games on a modest television set in the privacy of your living room, sent courtesy of the Capitol. 

You wondered if you would ever get the sight of Marcus’ battered, bloated face from your mind; if you would ever unhear the way his body thumped to the ground when that girl had killed him, out of mercy. If you would ever stop imagining what it must have felt like in those last moments.

But it wasn’t all horror. You’d liked Lucy Gray well enough, even though she was from 12. She had a wild way of dressing and the singing--it was practically theatrical, compared to what you’d heard about the previous games. 

Maybe that was why your father got this contract: theatrics. Maybe the games would be more dramatic from now on. Maybe they wanted tributes like Lucy Gray, who sang and spit and poisoned her way to Victory. It was strange, really, that there’d been hardly any talk of her since her win. 

“Father?” You asked, quietly as you could. 

Both of you were standing in the foyer of the grand university in the Capitol. The outside was still a little ravaged, but inside, it was perfectly lovely. Walls lined with books--perhaps some of them were fake--and marble floors and marble busts dotting the sight lines.

“Mm?” He replied, eyes scanning over his clipboard. He flips it, here and there.

“I was just thinking. About last year’s games. About Lucy Gray, and how the Games--”

Your father rounded on you, eyes suddenly serious and blazing.

“Quiet. Weren’t you paying attention on the way here?” Admittedly, you were not. You’d been daydreaming about what you might do now that you were done with school. There was no university in District 2, and your father hadn’t even mentioned a job. “You’re not supposed to mention--”

“Not supposed to mention whom? Ah, ah, ah. Lucy Gray Baird?” called a voice, almost in sing-song.

Your father stood up stiff, and the life seemed to drain from his face.

Both of you look towards the sound of the voice, and now it’s your turn to stiffen. The voice came from a woman standing in the doorway of the very office that your father was waiting to enter. She was wearing an elaborate jacket made of what looked like rainbow snake scales. Her hair was gray and curly. She had, you realized, two different colored eyes. 

Your father swallowed, and you could see the apple of it bob up and down. It made you think, abruptly, of suckling pigs. 

“Dr. Gaul,” he said, in a voice far too tight to be relaxed. “I apologize for my daughter’s insubordination, I assure you, she meant no--”

Dr. Gaul waved her hands at him and approached you. 

“Did you like last year’s games?” She didn’t look angry. No, she looked delighted.

“I…” It was your turn to swallow, your turn to feel that tightness. “It-it was the first time I’ve watched them, ma’am.” You want to ask this woman: do you think I liked watching someone from my District 2 so horribly? Or any District, really? Did I like it? 

Her smile grew wider. 

“I’m glad. You’ll be watching them every year from now on, I hope. We have big plans.” Her eyebrows raised high. “Big changes. Thanks to men like your father.” She glanced at him and you saw disdain flicker across her gaze. 

And then another door opened, and you heard the sound of polished shoes on the marble floor. Dr. Gaul’s attention dropped away from you like you were nothing at all. She turned to meet the sound of these footsteps, and you did too.

It was a young man. Probably your age, you thought, with light blonde hair and eyes that your mother would have described as “baby blue.” He didn’t look at you, or your father. But that was nothing new. You’d only been in the Capitol for 2 days, and you’d already gotten used to being treated as lesser than. Though, at least, you were not so far down on the food chain that you lost your tongue. 

“Ah, my protege,” said Dr. Gaul, giving the young man a grin. The smile on her face almost looked warm, which was somehow far more terrifying than her manic smile from earlier. “Ever the earnest student. Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying the day off, Mr. Snow?”

The young man, this “Snow,” chuckled and lowered his gaze. “I couldn’t stay away once I heard you were discussing some of the new prototypes for this year’s games.” 

He finally looked at your father, and then at you. But only briefly.

“Can I assume that this is…?”

Dr. Gaul nodded.

“Yes. My little designer from District 2. And his daughter.” Her voice dropped a few octaves when she referred to you. She probably didn’t want you here, you thought. You weren’t supposed to come, but your father had begged the Capitol for a pass; it would probably be your only chance to see it, he said, so you may as well take advantage of the chance.

Snow nodded to your father. It was a surprising gesture, almost respectful. But cold, too, like it was done from necessity rather than anything else. 

Your father stammered a bit and nodded back, and you felt shame begin to creep into your bones. It wasn’t fair, to be lesser-than. But weren’t others lesser-than you in your own District, where you ate better food and never worried that your name would get picked, that your blood would be spilled?

Everyone 

But when Snow turned to you, he smiled. It gave him dimples. 

It was the first kind smile anyone in the Capitol gave you. 

“My name is Coriolanus Snow. I doubt you’ve heard of me, but if Dr. Gaul’s teachings have anything to say about it, perhaps one day you’ll know me as a Gamemaker.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Congratulations, one day you’ll be coordinating Games that kill people? Instead,  you gave your name, voice squeakier than you meant it. But it was fitting, you supposed. Here, you were a mouse, hoping you would get a bite of cheese and make it home unpoisoned. 

Dr. Gaul’s face seemed to react slowly, as if she couldn’t decide what she thought about his words or your interaction, but a small smile grew on it, eventually. “I do have high hopes for you, Mr. Snow. Now, shall we?”

She gestured for your father to follow, face once again impassive with a sprinkle of disdain, as she led the two of them into her office.

Snow gave you a smile and a nod before he left.

You waved, stupidly.

Your father didn’t even look back.

--

I’m dead. I’m dead. I might as well be dead.

Your heartbeat kept time with your racing thoughts as you went up and down corridors, begging your shoes to be silent, wishing your breath would catch and stop coming out in terrible pants.

You were lost. You weren’t where you were supposed to be. If someone found you, if the wrong person found you, they would think you were running, trying to get lost in the Capitol; they’d think  you were a rebel. They’d shoot you.

Just when you thought you might collapse and die from your own nervous exhaustion, you heard the most wonderful sound in the world.

Your name.

It was only the moment after that you realized it didn’t come from your father’s mouth, but the lips of--what his name--Coriolanus Snow. The young man who was a Gamemaker-in-training, or so your father said. But that’s all he would say. He kept tight about anything that went on behind closed doors. 

But this Coriolanus Snow smiled at you, and didn’t look at you like you were some kind of insect he might want to pin on a board, and so when you whirled around to look at him you were smiling.

Ah--for a moment. For just a moment, you saw his muscles tense. You saw the expression on his face falter in worry. Like he thought he was about to miss a step on a staircase, and corrected himself; like he thought you were a wolf and you were only somebody’s dog, off their leash. 

But it wasn’t too surprising. You knew most people in the Capitol thought anyone from the Districts wanted to rip out their throats. 

Well, the worry was mutual. Except in your case, you were forced to walk around with the living proof of that worry--all those “Avoxes,” they called them. Without tongues, without freedom. 

But you swallow all that. Because he smiled at you. Because maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend. Especially right now.

“I’m--I’m lost,” you tell him, giving a shaky smile. “I was waiting for my father, but you see, I got to thinking, and I started to wander around and now I’m… well. I don’t know where I am, actually.”

His smile wasn’t very deep, was it? It was like the gloss of paint on the outside of the Capitol buildings. Pretty to look at, but there must be more underneath.

You expected him to lead you right back to where you’re supposed to be.

Instead, he asked you something.

“What were you thinking about?

You couldn’t tell him. Could you? But something about 

“About… the Games.”

You don’t tell him that you were thinking about Lucy Gray and all those snakes, and the way that Dr. Gaul’s outfit that first day made you think of them. Because your father had slapped you across the face when you got back to your lodgings that night, and told you to never, ever bring up Lucy Gray Baird or the 10th Games unless you were directly asked. And you would probably never be asked. 

Coriolanus gave a little snort through his nose. You liked it. It was nice to know that even Capitol people could seem a little dorky.

“They aren’t for another 3 months. Are you that eager to see them?”

You didn’t know what expression you made, exactly. It was so instinctive and fast that you didn’t have time to control it. 

You only knew that it made him shake his head and offer you a sympathetic look.  

“I apologize. That was rude, wasn’t it?” 

And then he did a strange thing.

He offered you his arm. 

Like you were Capitol, like you were a real person, and not some visiting District wench walking on the coattails of her arms-dealing father. 

“Let me walk you back to the waiting area.”

And the stranger thing?

You took it.

--

You and your father were quickly moved into a small apartment within the university, once it became clear that he would be staying in the Capitol through the duration of the Games. It was best, he said, because ordinary people in the Capitol didn’t really want to see new faces from the Districts mingling around unless their tongue had been cut out first. It made them nervous. The rebel bombings, and all that.

You didn’t mind, because it meant you didn’t have to be flanked by Peacekeepers on the streets. 

And, well.

You got to see Coriolanus more often. Sometimes he greeted you, sometimes he didn’t. He did it less often when Dr. Gaul was there,  unless she was talking to your father and it gave him an opportunity.

He asked you things, too, when he caught you walking back to your father’s little apartment. Like what you did back home. What you liked to do. Whether you went to school, and what you planned to do now that you have graduated. 

This morning, he caught you drawing while you waited in a chair outside Dr. Gaul’s office. Sometimes you waited there--you would admit to no one that it was to catch a glimpse of the kindest person you’d met in the Capitol--and other times you stayed in your temporary home.

“What are you drawing?” He asked. But he had a way of speaking that you’d quickly clocked into. He can make a demand sound like a polite little question. Oh, he wasn’t mean about it, but it reminded you of the way your father talked to his underlings back in District 2. On his home turf, he was far smoother than he was here, where his voice stammered and sweat beaded on his neck.

So you handed it over, even though, to your greatest embarrassment, you’d drawn… him.

“Why me?” He had a smile on his lips. His smiles were nice. Kind. The kindest you’d seen since you came here. But they always felt like that fresh coat of paint; like you didn’t know what he really meant by them, and that was how he liked it. 

“You’re… important,” is all you could come up with. You felt small, then. He would dismiss and probably never want to talk to you again. What a stupid answer from a stupid girl. 

But he just smiled. It was like paint peeling a little.  You could see underneath that he liked what you said, although you weren’t exactly sure why. And his expression tightened up so quickly, protecting what you’d seen, that you weren’t entirely sure if it was real or not. 

“I’m just a humble student at this university. Not so important. Not yet.”

--

You were really going to die, now. This wasn’t some panicked imagination gone wrong, some flight of fancy that took a wrong turn.

A pair of stony-faced Peacekeepers had walked up to where you sat in the waiting area near Dr. Gaul’s office and ordered you to come with them.

You asked to talk to your father. They said no. You asked where you were going. They yanked you up. 

And now they were leading you down hallways that you’d never seen before, where there weren’t even Avoxes roaming the halls with brooms and dustpans. 

They didn’t even answer, just spun around and walked back the way they came. You pushed the door open reluctantly--what the hell was going to be on the other side?--and it was--it was--

It was Coriolanus. Standing there in a nice suit, eyes downcast on a book. Until the door creaked and he looked up.

“What--why did you bring me here? Did I do something wrong?” The thought went through you, that perhaps this had all been a test, to see if you were loyal to the Capitol and he’d found you wanting.

“No,” he said, simply enough. He set the book down and gestured for you to step inside. You did, because what else were you going to do, in some strange room in a Capitol University where you’d been forcibly brought by Peacekeepers.

Snow studied your face. Your eyes darted around, from him, to the room, to the door. 

“I wanted to see you,” he said, a little softer. “In private.” 

“Me?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “But… why?”

He smiled. “Come now, you’re a smart girl, even if you aren’t in university.” 

You really didn’t know. Not at first. But then you watched the way his expression softened, and you remembered it, or glimpses of it, that he’d given you before. When he complimented your drawing. When he said your name. When he escorted you back from the maze of hallways. And his smiles, all his smiles, although you were never sure how much they meant coming from home. 

He took a step closer. You didn’t dare step back. You weren’t sure if you wanted to step back, but it didn’t matter, either way.

He pressed his lips to yours and took your first kiss, in a secluded little study in the heart of the Capitol University. 

--

Your days became routine, although the routine was strictly forbidden and could have probably gotten you executed or at best, gotten you a one-way ticket to a tasteless existence.

You wake up. You stay in your apartment.  You wait for the Peacekeepers. You get summoned here and there, always private rooms, secret rooms, rooms out of the way. You meet Snow--Coriolanus, he said, call him that--and you talk (well, mostly him) and kiss and sometimes a little bit more. He gives you gifts. Trinkets, necklaces that you can only wear under your shirt. Food, flaky pastries made with mountains of sugar, sandwiches made with cream and cucumber. 

But how much longer could it go on? The Games were going to start soon. As soon as they were over, you were going back to your District. There would be no more meetings, no more kisses. No more wondering how far he wanted to go or why he liked you or even if he even liked you as anything more than someone to keep him busy. 

You didn’t dare talk about the Games, but you did talk about this. In the kindest way you knew how for such a sensitive subject. 

“I’ll miss you,” you told Coriolanus after one meeting, when you’re both sitting on a sofa and he’s got your fingers tightly wound in his. He squeezed them tight.

“Miss me?” 

“After the Games,” you clarified. “We’re being sent home right after.”

He squeezed your fingers until it hurt a little. Then he looked up at you. To see if you would say something? Or did he not know how strong he was?

“Oh, that. I can arrange for you to stay.”

Your chest began to feel sick.

“Stay? In the Capitol?” You were torn about Coriolanus, but you didn’t want to stay here. You couldn’t. 

“Yes,” he said, as if it was the simplest answer in the world. “You wouldn’t be the first person from the District granted such an extreme privilege. I’m sure I could--”

“But I don’t know if I want to stay.” 

His gaze narrowed and you felt your stomach clench. He looked at the necklace you’d pulled out as soon as the door was shut, at your lips where a dollop of strawberry cream still rested. 

“I treat you so well, and you don’t know if you want to stay with me?”

His voice was calm, and that scared you. It would have been better if he flew off the handle.

Instead, he simply stood up and gently sent you out the door, and called the Peacekeepers to bring you back to your apartment.

--

Every night for the last week, you have cried yourself to sleep. Because every day for the last week, Coriolanus Snow has not sent for you. Not even once.

What if he told someone? What if you got sent back early, and your father was shamed? What if they broke his contract? Or--worse, worse, worse. There were so many worse things than merely being sent back to District 2.

And then he sent for you, and it was the longest walk of your life, though it was no farther than any of the times you’ve been escorted to your secret meetings.

This time, when you pushed open the door, Coriolanus was not alone. 

There was an Avox in the room. 

It was someone from District 2.

You didn’t know her. Not personally. But you saw her, before. She worked in one of the munitions factories and you watched her walk to work from your classroom window sometimes. Then she stopped showing up, and you thought perhaps she got married. 

That delusion was shattered the moment you saw her, eyes downcast to the floor, wearing a simple gray tunic. 

It’s not until Coriolanus tells you to hurry up and come in that you’re able to move. Even then, you weren’t sure how your body did it; how your arms managed to gain the mobility to shut the door, to twist the lock; how your legs moved, one foot in front of the other, until you were standing stiffly in front of him.

The Avox--you wish you knew her name, but she couldn’t give it to you now, even if you asked--moved seamlessly to a table set up nearby. There was tea and sweets. The sort of thing that you and Coriolanus had been enjoying together for the past few weeks. The sort of thing that you were sure would sit sour in your stomach, now. 

The cup shook in your hands when she handed it to you, and your tears dripped right into the tea.

Coriolanus glanced at the Avox and waved his hand. She left obediently. She would never tell the secret she witnessed in his room, that much was certain.

And then he looked back at you.

“Don’t cry,” he said. Soft but firm. A command, not a coo. “You shouldn’t cry here, in the Capitol. You should be grateful to be here. You should be grateful that I’ve arranged all this for you.”

“I am,” you whispered. 

“Then show me that you are.”

And you did. 

You said what he wanted and looked to him to show you how he wanted you to act, and did just that. You didn’t argue, even to lightly banter. You kissed him and nodded along when he told you about how things would be after the Games, when he had arranged for you to stay.

All you had to do was keep him happy until the Games were over, and then you could go home. 

Bitterly, all of this made you realize just how much of your father is in you; he knew how to appease the Capitol. You could do the same with Coriolanus Snow. At least until the Games were over. Just keep him happy until the Games were done and the blood was spilled, and you would go home. 

They wouldn’t let him keep you here after the games. You were sure of that. You’d overheard some of Dr. Gaul’s assistants murmuring how glad they would be to send the District profiteers like your father home once the Games were over. And you? You’re just his useless daughter, an appendage he brought like an unwelcome suitcase. Why would you be allowed to stay?

--

The Games were over. The winner was from District 1. 

You were going home any day now. Just as soon as your father finished tinkering with the designs, gave his notes on improvements that might be made for next year.

The thought gave you a delightful bounce in your step. It was like having a pat of sweet butter in your shoe on a day when you needed good luck-- District 2 superstition, although the strict rationing meant most people didn’t have even a pat to slip into their shoes anymore.

The sweetness didn’t even disappear when the Peacekeepers showed up to bring you to Snow. It was going to be a bittersweet farewell, you were sure. He might be angry. But you would kiss him and tell him that there was nothing he could do, and how sorry you were not to be able to stay, but that was how things had to be.

Except they didn’t bring you down a maze of corridors that led to a secluded room.

They brought you right into Dr. Gaul’s office.

Breakfast threatened to evacuate your stomach with every step. Not just because of nerves, but because of what you saw. Rows of experiments in glass tubes; some of them move. You walk by a room with a half-open door that showed someone strapped to a gurney, face contorted in a silent scream as they fought against restraints. You almost did lose breakfast, then.

But somehow you made it to the desk of Dr. Gaul without a dribble of vomit to show for it.

The Peacekeepers left with no fanfare and you stood there, ramrod straight. Did she know? Was she going to tell you that you were going to be strapped to one of those gurneys, now?

“I’m keenly aware,” she said, keeping her hands primly folded, “on how much you’ve enthralled my star pupil.”

Toast. That’s what will come up first, you thought . The toast.

“I don’t know what you mean, ma’am.” Your voice was so thin and tinny that you didn’t even believe yourself.

And then the prim facade cracked, and Dr. Gaul threw her head back and grinned.

“You really think I don’t know everything that goes on within these walls?  I know every time one of my lab assistants runs into the bathroom to throw up after a particularly nasty experiment. I know every time one of our university professors sneaks into a closet to down a vial of morphling with a student. And I certainly know when my newest protege is having an adorable little District girl brought to him for… canoodling.”

You weren’t even embarrassed. No.  You just felt terrified to the bone. You only hoped that you’d be killed, shot against a wall, instead of made into an Avox. Let there be some mercy in this world. 

”He’s asked to keep you, you know.” Her voice was low, almost a drawl. She tapped her fingers on her desk rhythmically.

“My Coriolanus Snow wants a bird of his own.” Her smile turned darker. “Not a songbird, though. Oh, no. I think he’s had enough of those.”

Her gaze bored into yours, each color magnified by her intense expression. “I think if I let him have his pretty caged bird, he’ll be happy. He’s more productive if he’s happy.” She smiled. “I like productivity. It keeps the Games more interesting.”

She looked you over one more time, and then waved you away.

“I’ve granted his request. You’ll be staying here indefinitely, courtesy of one Mr. Snow. Your father has already been told.” 

You were wrong.

It was not the toast that came up first, but the sweet butter you’d patted on top.

--

You still had your tongue, but you felt as though it was useless, stuck to the roof of your mouth, as Coriolanus fussed over your outfit. Or rather, as he directed an Avox to fuss over it for you. He could afford his own personal servant, now, he told you. He’d almost flinched after he said now, and you didn’t dare press him on it. Had he not been able to afford one before?

“We can’t walk arm-in-arm in public,” he said, walking around you, making sure the outfit was just-right. “But you can stand by me if I stop and direct you forward.” He reached over and fixed one of your buttons. “Don’t speak to anyone unless I’ve told you to, or they speak to you first. Always address someone older as ‘sir,’ or ‘ma’am.” He pointed at your hair, and the Avox began to fuss with it, eventually covering it in a colorful wrap that Coriolanus said was popular right now. “Address someone our age by the last name and Mr. or Ms.”

When he was satisfied with your appearance, he sent the Avox away. You liked it better that way, it was one last reminder of the horrors in the Capitol, even for someone “privileged” like you.  You’d only been without your father for 3 days, but you felt like your nerves were continually on fire. You wanted to go home. You wanted your family. You wanted out of this place.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

For now, you were still living in the small university apartment the Capitol had given your father. Coriolanus insisted on it, until he could figure out how to move you into his own sprawling apartment that he shared with his cousin, Tigris (who, at least, genuinely sounded lovely) and his grandmother, Grandma’am. She was the sticking point, or so you were told, with a thin smile. She hated Districts, and she ought to, he said. They killed her son. His father. 

She would hate you, too. Even if Coriolanus wanted you enough to make you stay with him; wanted you enough to keep you. But for how long? And would he change his mind, if you couldn’t fit in? 

He said your name, and you snapped yourself out of your thoughts. He held you by your shoulders. Gently. Like one would an unruly child that hadn’t yet learned that there were such things as salad forks and dinner forks, as polite conversation and etiquette. 

You got the feeling you wouldn’t have long to learn all of those things and more, to make him happy.

“Remember,” he said. “You’re District. You’re here because the Capitol has recognized that your loyalty can benefit us in some way. Be grateful.”

“I am,” you said, reflectively.

“Be happy..”

“I am,” you said again, your chest hitching.

He smiled at you. Was it real or not real? 

You smiled back, regardless. And he liked that, evidently, because he leaned forward and kissed you. Then he scrutinized your face and wiped at your lips with his thumb--the kiss had smeared your lipstick. 

“Good.” 

He gestured towards the open doorway. This time, he didn’t take your arm. There would be too many people lingering in the university hallways, all making their way to the soiree held to celebrate the end of this year’s Games and discuss what improvements might be made for the next year. 

You dutifully walked behind him, just like he said. And you would do exactly what he said in all respects. You would stay quiet unless you were spoken to, you would certainly never bring up anything confrontational or controversial, and you would make a good impression. You would be a loyal, grateful District citizen who was given the opportunity of a lifetime thanks to the graciousness of Coriolanus Snow. 

Of course you would. 

Your life depended on it. 

[flickering-chandelier]

Second Chance

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: Reader and Cassian have been friends for centuries, but nobody knows that she’s in love with him. Eventually she meets her mate in the market, but when he breaks her heart, Cassian is there to pick up the pieces, and offer her a second chance at love.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 4.5k

Cassian snickered as he landed on top of you, effectively pinning you beneath him. 

You grunted, “Okay, you win. Get off.”

He cocked his head, grinning. “I don’t know, this is pretty comfy.”

“You’ve proven your point,” you groaned, your head throbbing from hitting it on the ground of the training ring on top of the House. You tried to wiggle out from under him, but it was no use. He was massive, and your body was rendered utterly immobile. 

After another torturous moment, Cassian stood up, offering you his hand. He hoisted you up to your feet and you groaned again. 

“What were you saying about being able to beat me one-on-one?” he smirked. 

You just scowled at him and his smile spread further. He clapped you on the back. You winced at the impact. “Go get some water.”

Normally you would say something snarky about following orders, but your head was still spinning a bit, so you did as you were told without argument. 

You must have looked pretty awful because after a few minutes, Cassian knelt in front of where you sat on the bench, his eyes searching yours. “You okay?”

Nodding as you gulped down more water, you mumbled, “Mmhmm.”

His brow furrowed as he gently felt the back of your head, feeling the growing bump there. “Shit,” he said. “I didn't mean to pin you down that hard. Sorry.”

You shrugged, smiling faintly at your friend. “I knew I couldn’t beat you. It’s my own fault.”

He lightly brushed the hair that had come out of your braid off your face. You pushed down the swell in your chest, as you always did. “I think it’s time for the cool down,” he said, his eyes raking your sweaty, tired body. 

Your eyes widened. “You, the legendary commander of the Illyrian armies, are going to cut training short because you knocked me on my ass?” 

“Only for you,” he winked, offering you his hand again. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You took it, and followed Cassian as he guided you through the stretches. 

This had been your routine for a while. You had been in Rhysand’s inner circle for the last few centuries, and had found your home and family with them. Pretty quickly, you knew you wanted to be useful for more than just your mind, so you had asked Cassian to train you. You had started out at the Illyrian camps, but the way the males there treated you was…unsettling, to say the least. And it made Cassian angrier than you had ever seen him. So now you trained on the top of the House, sometimes accompanied by others, but often it was just the two of you. 

Training with him nearly every day for centuries had brought the two of you very close together. He was definitely the best friend you had ever had. He was your favorite person in the world. The two of you talked about everything.

Well, almost everything.

Even after all this time, butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you watched him, how his muscles stretched and bulged, his brow furrowed in concentration, his tanned skin gleaming with sweat in the morning sun. 

You had been in love with him for a very, very long time.

Frankly, it sucked being in love with your best friend. Your best friend, who flirted shamelessly with nearly everybody, who had a body even the gods were surely jealous of. Who was so kind and good and brave that nobody could ever compare. 

Especially not you.

That was the main problem, really. Why you had never said anything. You knew you could never deserve him, no matter how long you lived. He was legendary. Literally. He was strong, fearless, and so, so kind. And not to harp on this too much but, that body. Compared to him, you were entirely insignificant and you always would be.

So, you suffered in silence. Loved him from afar. And waited for the Mother or the Cauldron or whoever it was that was in charge of your fate and your mate to get their act together.

“What’s running through that pretty head of yours?” Cassian said, glancing over at you.

You reigned in your scowl. Centuries of friendship made it extremely easy for him to read you like a book. “I’m debating whether I hate you for pinning me to the ground like it was nothing, or if I love you for cutting training short,” you said, breathless as you continued to follow him through the stretches. 

He smirked. “Oh, please. You know you love me.”

Rolling your eyes goodnaturedly you grumbled, “Yeah, I know.”

If only he knew. 

---

Inner circle meetings these days were about twenty percent important business, and eighty percent goofing off. 

You loved it.

Seated between Azriel and Amren, with Cassian across from you, you grinned as the warrior picked a fight with Amren.

Azriel and you exchanged amused glances, both knowing that Cassian had never won against Amren, and he certainly wouldn’t start today. 

After they had been squabbling for quite some time about something that you honestly weren’t paying super close attention to, Amren turned to you, snarling, “Can you please tell him he’s a fool?”

Cassian sat back in his chair, clutching his chest, making a great show of being offended.

“Why me?” you asked. 

“He actually listens to you,” Amren said, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

You snorted. “He does not.”

Azriel cut in, smiling faintly. “He does. More than the rest of us, anyway.”

You glanced at Cassian, who just smirked back at you. “What can I say? She’s obviously the smartest one here.”

This, of course, started a whole new round of insults from Amren that left Cassian chuckling to himself, his eyes sparkling as he gazed at you through the entire barrage of Amren’s insults.

Later, you and Cassian were lounging in the sitting room at the House of Wind, after everyone else had wandered off home or gone to bed. 

You were laying down on the couch, reading a book. Cassian was sitting at the far end of said couch, your feet in his lap while he read up on war strategies. 

It was only a matter of time before the romance novel that you were reading got… steamy. 

Cassian immediately noticed the shift in your scent and threw his head back laughing. “Why do you read smut in front of people?”

You kicked his chest lightly, which only made him laugh more. “It’s not like I know when the smutty scenes are going to happen!”

“This one really got to you, huh?” he said, noticing the blush that had risen to your cheeks.

Before you could stop him, he lunged for you, grabbing your book and wrenching it from your hands.

“Noo!” you shrieked, and covered your face in embarrassment as he read aloud.

“His weight on top of me was nearly enough for me to come undone,” he said in a deep, sultry voice. “I couldn’t focus on anything but the power and command in his movements as he grasped both my wrists in one hand and pinned them to the bed above my head.”

You couldn’t stand it anymore. You grabbed for the book, but he was faster and caught you as you moved toward him. His arm wrapped around your waist and he spun you, pinning you to the couch, his weight holding you down for the second time that day.

But, this time was… different. Your bodies were completely flush together, every inch of you touching him. His hair tickled your neck as he looked down at you, your faces a fraction away from each other. 

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, breathing hard. You could smell it on him too now, the lust. In this moment, he wanted you. You knew he did. Heat went through you in a wave.

And he knew it. 

“This is what you’re into, huh?” he said huskily.

You glared at him, but you knew the lust was still shining in your eyes. 

He smirked. “Is that why you baited me during training today? You wanted to feel me on top of you?”

Yes. “No!” You scowled, pushing his shoulders, but he didn’t move. “I baited you because I wanted to see how long I would last.”

Cassian’s smirk turned positively wolfish, his eyes gleaming in a way you’d never seen before.

You groaned, realizing what you just said. “Not like that.” You pushed against him again. “Get off of me, Cassian!”

He dipped his head lower, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Are you sure you want me to?” he said, his voice low, sultry. You could hardly breathe.

No, of course I don’t want you to. I want to stay here forever and ever.

“Yes,” you ground out. 

His lips darted to your lips for the briefest moment before he pushed off of you, sitting on his knees. After a moment, he handed the book to you. 

“I hate you,” you mumbled.

He smirked. “No, you don’t.”

You couldn’t stop your small smile. “No, I don’t.”

---

For days, you felt rattled by what happened that night. Cassian, of course, seemed relaxed as ever, but you felt yourself blush every time you were around him.

You were in the market, your thoughts lost in Cassian as usual, when someone across the street caught your eye.

He was beautiful. The very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. You felt drawn to him in a way you had never felt before, not even with Cassian.

You stopped in your tracks, unable to take your eyes off him.

After a few moments, he looked up and your eyes met.

And you felt it.

The mating bond that snapped into place. That tethered you permanently to this stranger.

And judging from the look in his eyes, he felt it too.

The stranger made his way over to you, his eyes not wavering from yours.

“Hi,” he said when he was in front of you, like he was in a daze.

“Hi,” you said. “You… felt that too, right?”

He nodded. “I never knew what they meant… what it was supposed to feel like…” he trailed off, just staring at you. “I'm Adonis.”

You introduced yourself and didn't know what to do next. For centuries, you had dreamed of the day that you'd meet your mate. But secretly, you had been waiting for the bond to snap into place with Cassian. You hadn't thought about what you would do if it turned out to be a random stranger.

“Do you… want to go for a walk?” Adonis said, clearly equally unsure of what one was supposed to do upon meeting their mate.

You agreed. And just like that, you were getting to know your mate.

---

You found Rhys, Feyre, and Cassian all in Rhysand's study at the river house. They looked at you questioningly as you walked in.

“Are you okay?” Cassian asked, his voice soft, the way it always was when he was worried about you. “You look… weird.”

“I met my mate today,” you said quietly.

Feyre and Rhysand looked ecstatic. Cassian, though, went perfectly still, his skin turning slightly pale.

“What happened? Who is he?” Feyre asked, her eyes wide in excitement.

You shrugged, briefly explaining how you and Adonis met.

“What's he like?” Rhys asked. “Do you like him?”

“I think so?” You said, noticing how Cassian was still as a statue. “I don't know, it's weird. I feel this tug towards him but I don't know anything about him! I mean, he seems… nice.”

Cassian finally unfroze, to look incredulously at you. “Nice?” He repeated. “That's it? Your mate is nice?”

“We went on a walk and yes, he seems nice,” you blanched, feeling like you should defend your mate but not sure how.

Your friends just stared at you, clearly underwhelmed by your declaration.

“What do I do now?” You asked nobody in particular.

“You keep getting to know him,” Rhys said, lovingly wrapping an arm around Feyre. 

You glanced at Cassian, who suddenly seemed very interested in the carpet.

“Okay,” you said. 

Really, what else could you do?

---

Your relationship with Cassian had felt off ever since you and Adonis had started to get to know each other better.

He still trained you every day, but where he used to be bantering and joking around with you, he was now all business, keeping his physical distance from you. 

It was confusing, having to grapple with your ancient feelings for him and these new blooming ones for your mate. 

After a few weeks of weirdness, you finally snapped. “Did I do something to upset you?” You asked as both of you stretched after a particularly grueling workout.

“No,” he grunted. “Why?”

“You've been acting weird for weeks.”

He glanced at you, his eyes guarded. “No, I haven't.”

“Yes you have, Cass. You've barely talked to me,” you tried to hide the pain in your voice. You didn't want him to know how deeply this ran.

Cassian sighed, pausing his stretching to face you, look you in the eye. “You’re right, I'm sorry. I just… I'm sad, I guess. I've been your number one for centuries and now…” he pushed his hair out of his face. “Things are different now.”

You took a step toward him, your heart cracking. “Is that what you think? Cassian, no matter who my mate is, you'll always be my best friend. And… I could really use my best friend right now.”

Guilt clouded his expression. “I'm sorry. I've been a shitty friend,” he said quietly, moving forward and wrapping you in a tight bear hug. “Are you okay?”

Sighing with relief, leaning into his touch, you said, “I don't know. I'm really excited, obviously, that I finally found him. And I do like him. But I'm also… scared.”

He pulled back to look you in the eye. “Scared? Why?”

“What if he doesn't like me?” You asked quietly. You hadn't been able to voice your fears to anybody else. 

Cassian’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would you even think that? Who wouldn't like you?”

I can think of at least one person, you thought, but shoved it down.

You shrugged, not sure what to say.

He murmured your name, moving to gently hold your face in his hands. “He'd be insane to not like you. I mean it.”

Warmth spread through you at his touch, the softness in his voice. “Thanks, Cassian,” you murmured.

Cassian kissed your forehead, then pulled you back into a crushing hug. “Anytime.”

---

Your gut was a bundle of nerves as you met with Adonis again. The two of you had been getting to know each other for the last few weeks, and while you didn't yet feel an electric shock, you were thrilled to have found your mate.

When Adonis showed up though, your nerves only got worse. The look on his face could only mean that he was about to deliver bad news.

The two of you made your way through awkward small talk until he braced his forearms on the table in front of him, and you knew he was about to get down to business.

“So, look. I know we're mates, and I do feel that bond between us, but I can't help but think that maybe the Cauldron was wrong,” he said casually, as if he were telling you it was going to rain later.

Your heart completely plummeted. You tried to maintain your breathing, keep your voice even. “Why do you think that?”

“The attraction’s just not there,” he said matter of factly.

Mind spinning, you repeated, “the… attraction?”

He nodded, like it was obvious.

“You're saying, you think the Cauldron was wrong… because you're not attracted to me.”

“Yes! I'm so glad you get it,” he smiled.

You just looked at him incredulously. “You're serious?”

“Yes?” He raised his eyebrow in question.

“So, you're… you're rejecting the bond?”

“I think that would be best. Don't you?”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your rising fury locked down. “With the way you're acting right now? Actually, yes, I do think it would be best. You're a terrible person,” you stated, determined to keep your tears from falling until you could make it home.

His eyes narrowed, glaring at you.

And right then, you felt it. Despite your anger, it was still painful to have the bond rejected. It felt like you were being torn apart from the inside out, ripping your very being to shreds.

You gripped the table, centuries of training your body and your mind was the only thing that kept you from crying out as the bond broke.

Adonis felt it too, you knew, because he had gone pale as a ghost, his body trembling slightly. 

When the pain had subsided enough, you pushed away from the table, walking home without a backwards glance.

---

You were supposed to meet Cassian for dinner at the House, but you couldn't bear it. You went to your own apartment instead, laying in your bed in the fetal position for what was probably hours, tears streaming down your cheeks until your head was pounding and your eyes were burning.

It was awful, this feeling. How could he be your mate? How could someone like that be who the Mother wanted you with?

Would you never be good enough for anyone? 

And now your hopes of finding a mate were gone forever. Everyone knew that you only got one chance, one mate.

Why did yours have to be so awful?

A knock on your door roused you from your spiraling thoughts.

You just groaned, knowing that Cassian could hear it.

The door opened and you heard his heavy footsteps as he found you in your bed.

He grimaced as soon as he saw the state of you, his eyes flooding with concern. Instantly he was by your side, kneeling in front of you, holding your hand. “What is it?” He asked, his voice soft despite the tautness of his body.

Your voice came out as barely more than a croak. “He rejected the bond.”

Cassian's rage was palpable, filling the room. “What?”

Ashamed, you hid your face in your pillows. You couldn't tell him why. Didn't have the words in you, and you didn't want him to know how much it hurt.

He swore under his breath, then crawled into bed with you, gingerly wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. You buried your face in his chest, breathed in the scent of him. It almost broke your heart even more, knowing he would never feel for you what you felt for him.

His fingers drew small, soothing circles on your back for a long moment until he broke the silence again. “What happened?” He said quietly.

It was a long time before you could answer. But you knew that if you could tell anyone in the world, it would be him. “He's not attracted to me,” you whispered.

Cassian's entire body tensed, his grip on you tightening. “He said that?” He said with lethal calm.

“He did,” you croaked as another tear slid down your cheek.

“I'm going to slaughter him,” he growled, his body trembling as he sat up, taking you with him. “I'm going to rip his skin off his bones--”

He had moved you so you were straddling him, your hands on his shoulders. “No, you won't,” you said gently.

“Why shouldn't I?” He spat, his eyes dark, his hands gripping your waist so hard, it would surely leave a bruise.

“It wouldn't solve anything,” you said sadly. 

Cassian buried his hand in the hair at the back of your head, forcing you to hold his gaze. “You listen to me. He is wrong. He is awful. You are so beautiful. You are so strong and kind and incredible. Do not let him get to you, okay? This is his loss, not yours,” he said, his eyes locked on yours, alight with so much emotion, your eyes welled with tears again.

He pursed his lips, his eyes softening as he pulled you into him again. You cried into his chest. “Why would the Mother do this to me? Why would she choose him?”

“I don't know,” he said sadly, running his hands through your hair gently. “I don't know. Maybe she made a mistake.”

You sniffed. “I don’t know what to do.” 

He kissed your head softly. “You lean on the people who love you. And then you try to move on.”

You cried even harder, and he held you and held you until your sobs diminished and you drifted off to sleep.

---

Cassian barely left your side in the following weeks, his hands always on you, comforting you. Even when he had to go to the Illyrian mountains, he brought you with him. 

It always did something to you, seeing him in command of all those soldiers. His face stern, his body rigid, barking orders at everyone. Despite all the awful things that had happened recently, it still made your toes curl in your boots. 

But even you could only brave the cold for so long to watch Cassian be in command, so you eventually wandered into Rhysand’s mother’s house, a roaring fire already ablaze when you arrived. 

You sat in front of it, warming your hands, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. 

Weeks after the disastrous meeting with your mate, you were finally starting to feel like yourself again, like other things in life mattered more than the jerk who hurt you.

It was mostly Cassian’s steady, comforting presence that had helped you return to yourself, his relentless insistence that you keep up with your training, that you don’t break your routine no matter how much your heart hurt. 

Cassian had been what was keeping you together for a long time, you realized. 

It was this thought that he interrupted, swinging the door open loudly, the snow billowing in behind him. After he had closed the door behind him, you heard his heavy footfalls stop dead in their tracks behind you.

You turned to look at him in confusion, and then you felt it. 

A bond snapped into place. 

A bond that somehow, after all this time, linked you to Cassian.

Your heart began pounding in your chest, your head spinning. “What--”

Before you could finish the thought, he was on top of you, pinning you to the ground, his lips on yours. You always forgot how quickly he could move, how he could be across the room in the blink of an eye with ease.

A moan sounded from you involuntarily as he cupped your cheek gently with his rough hand, his other on the floor next to your head, keeping some of his body weight off you so you wouldn’t be crushed. This seemed to spur him on even more, his tongue delving into your mouth immediately after you had opened your mouth to him. 

“I knew it,” he groaned, kissing your cheeks, your neck, “I knew it should’ve been me.” 

“Cassian,” you gasped, unable to process what was happening, what he just said--

He growled, kissing you again deeply, rocking his hips against yours.

You hated yourself for doing it, especially since you had been dreaming of this very moment for centuries, but you also needed a moment to think, to process. 

“Cassian, wait,” you said breathlessly, putting your hand on his chest. 

He halted immediately, pulling back to hover over you. “I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay,” you said, smiling to reassure him. He was breathing hard, his eyes locked on yours, trying to decipher if he had done something wrong, you knew. “I mean -- we should definitely continue that later, I just… I don’t understand.”

Cassian rose from on top of you, sitting up. You followed, sitting up to face him. “We’re mates,” he said with a soft smile, his eyes shining. “You and me,” he shook his head in disbelief. 

“I thought you could only have one mate? I thought that was it…” you trailed off, unable to form the words.

He shrugged, grinning. “I guess the Mother decided to give you another chance.”

All you could do was stare at him in disbelief. 

Cassian was actually your mate. Cassian.

His brow furrowed, his expression flooding with fear. “Are you upset?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. You gazed at him, at your beautiful, incredible mate. “Cassian, I’ve been in love with you for centuries. I’ve never been happier in my life.”

He made a choking sound. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

You bit your lip, pondering how much to tell him. He took your hand in his, scooching closer, hanging on your answer. Finally you leveled your gaze with his. “I don’t deserve you.”

His face contorted in anger then, a look that had never been directed at you before. “Why would you ever think that?”

Incredulously, you gestured to him. “Are you kidding? Look at you! You’re the commander of the Illyrian armies, they’ve literally written about your war tactics in the history books, you’re one of six people in centuries to actually reach Ramiel, you’re so kind and good and--”

Cassian’s lips were on yours before you could continue. “I love you,” he murmured against your lips. “I love you so much.” 

Your heart melted at his words and at his touch. After a few moments, he pulled back to look at you again. “Never say that you’re not good enough ever again. You’ve been in Rhysand's inner circle for centuries for a reason. How do you not see how incredible you are?” 

All you could get out was, “You love me?”

He laughed, the deep sound practically bouncing off the walls, before his expression softened, gazing at you lovingly. “Of course I love you. I was acting so weird after you met Adonis because I had never been so fucking jealous in my life,” he said quietly, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve wished that you were mine for a long, long time.” 

You launched yourself at him and he was ready for you, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you kissed him. He laughed against your mouth, holding your body against his. 

Soon, you were completely tangled together, losing yourselves in each other.

Hours later, you were laying on the floor in front of the fire, your legs entwined together, your head on Cassian's chest, his arms around you. 

“After all this time,” you murmured, lost in the memories of all your lonely nights, now knowing that Cassian had felt the same way you did.

He kissed the top of your head. “I'm just glad the Mother finally helped us get together,” he chuckled.

“Me too,” you agreed. “We owe her a lot.”

“We owe her everything,” he said quietly, leaning in to kiss you again. 

You snuggled closer into him, relishing the thought that you would never again be alone.

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar

[reidology13]

we could make it better (breaking every habit)

Spencer Reid x fem ex-famous!reader

Summary: After Spencer overcomes his addiction, he seeks out the company and forgiveness of an old flame. cw: talk of addiction, a little sad? mostly fluffy though a/n: technically a part 2 of my fic based off making the bed by olivia rodrigo, but it can definitely be read as a oneshot. maybe they are a bit unhealthy, but they're cute and that's all that matters. also this was so incredibly delayed cause my phone drowned so I'm posting this from my dad's computer

Part 1

They say time heals all wounds, and standing at the door of his past mistake, Spencer hoped it had healed hers the way it had his. It had taken him too long to find her, for his pride to break down enough to ask Garcia to search for her. A few years ago it would have been all too easy, a few years ago she was on the cover of every magazine. Now she was the public's favourite conspiracy theory, the biggest where did she go? post made on some website full of self important nobodies. 

Where did she go? A small house in a small town, a few hours from D.C, just close enough that Spencer had gotten in his car without a second thought the moment he had her address. Maybe it was a slight invasion of privacy, but Spencer had seen much more of her than the house she lived in.

As he lifted his fist to knock, doubt crept in for the first time since the beginning of his endeavour. Was he right to apologise, to show up at the doorstep of the person he hurt worse than anyone else in his life, and say sorry? Sorry. ‘Sorry’ was a puny word that could never hope to mean anything compared to what he had done, how he had used her. But it would have to do, because he had not come all that way to turn back at the flashing neon sign that said ‘CLOSURE’.

Knock, knock, knock. Was three knocks not enough? Knock. God four was too many and the last one had been so separate from the others it was clearly an afterthought that she would think was weird before she even knew it was him on the other side of-

“Spencer?” The door opened, just enough for her face to be visible through the small opening. She was so much more beautiful than he remembered, although he really didn’t remember much from back then. 

“I’m sorry.” Well that was one way to get to the point. He smacked himself internally, scolding himself for being so stupid and inconsiderate, not even saying hello or asking her how she was doing.

“Do you wanna come in? You look like you need to sit down.” She pulled the door open, stepping back to let him in, and Spencer froze. She was allowing him into her home, her space, he who had squeezed her dry, used her up and tossed her aside when he didn’t need her anymore.

Unsure what else to do, Spencer found himself sitting on her couch, the awkward tension between them palpable as he sat silently in regret of every decision he had made in the last week.

“So,” She prompted, gesturing vaguely in his direction, “How are you?”

“Good, yeah, better. You?” He looked around the room, trying to find something that would tell him anything about her life, about her. She was a stranger, really, a stranger that used to be someone he knew. He wanted to know who she was then, on that day, in her house sitting across from him.

“I’m good too. You look better.” He knew what she meant – he didn’t look high out of his mind. The far wall of the room was covered in framed pictures of her and what he assumed were her family and friends. Some were from her childhood, some were taken in front of the very house he was sitting in. 

What surprised Spencer were the photos, though few and far between, where he made an appearance. The Fourth of July party, a bright, sunny photo full of smiling faces. The poor quality of the picture did nothing to disguise the bags under his eyes, nor the dead look in hers. Her birthday, a photo of her blowing out the candles on her cake, blurred from his shaky grip on the camera.

“I don’t remember that one.” He pointed to a picture of the two of them, a dark photo that he nearly hadn’t recognised as himself. The ability to not remember had been his favourite thing back then, now the haze left him with a pit in his stomach.

“Makes sense, you were… you were bad. It was taken right near the end.” 

“I am sorry, really.” Neither of them spoke after that, the silence a warm blanket rather than a thick smog. The apology wrapped around them in a warm embrace, they did not choke on it.

She moved first, after what felt like the most peaceful eternity, slipping her hand around his, holding it in the space between them. He looked down at their joined hands, his gaze slowly drifting up until it landed on the soft smile spread across her face.

“I missed you.” She squeezed his hand gently, although it felt like she squeezed his heart instead, “I missed you from the moment I met you. It’s nice to get you back.”

“I missed you too.” He didn’t know how to explain the way it had taken him a month to get sober enough that reality hit and he realised what he’d lost. At least, he didn’t know how to explain it without having to actually say something about his addiction. He’d always been good at avoiding the topic, skirting around it with suggestions and subtle confirmations. The word ‘addiction’ made him feel weak, like he’d been defeated. He’d talked about his problem once, in a room full of people who had been through the same thing, and even then he hadn’t been able to say it. 

“You’re so strong, Spencer. You’ve come so far.” It was like she could read his mind, see every fear that haunted him and soothe it accordingly.

“So are you, I mean, you got out of everything.” His eyes dropped to his lap in shame of everything that he hadn’t noticed, all of the obvious signs of just how not okay she had been. All that she must have been going through, that he had been too far from reality to know existed, even when it was staring him in the face.

“You say that like you didn’t.” It was a simple sentiment, but maybe that was what hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t some mantra he’d heard hundreds of times, or a complicated conversation with his friends where they tried to talk to him without saying anything that actually mattered.

He got out of it.

“You’re perfect, you know that right?” The way he looked at her in that moment could only be described as reverential, she was the brightest star in a sky that he had never truly seen before.

“No I’m not.” The way she said it like a definite fact made Spencer’s heart start to crack, “Do you know why I have those pictures up?”

Spencer shook his head, “Tell me,” he said the words under his breath, as if they were surrounded by people in the empty room, “I’m not going to find you any less perfect.”

“Hope. I could never get the thought out of my head that you would come back.” She shook her head, gaze locked on the ground like she couldn’t bear to look at him as she spoke. “It was stupid, and then you actually did, and that’s stupid all over again.”

“You’re even more perfect than I thought.” Spencer laughed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, happy and sad and something he couldn’t put a name to. She was still holding his hand, he realised, and he used that information to interlace their fingers, placing their joined hands in his spare palm.

“I’m stupid and lucky, that’s what I am.” She snorted, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“No, not stupid.” Spencer drew circles with his thumb on her palm as he spoke, “Lucky, maybe.” 

“We’re gonna have to talk about this, us, you know that.”

“Eventually, yes. Not right now.”

“Not right now.” She confirmed, nodding slowly. They were both there, and that would have to be enough, at least for the moment.

[forcedtogrow]

FTM cock-shame, forcemasc edition

You’ve been going to the gym with your coach for a while now, he’s a bigger and more experienced lifter and has helped you push through every goal you thought was impossible to reach. After many, many weeks of watching your hunky coach glistening with sweat, you start to get curious about his tdick, if he’s big all over… He wears a packer most of the time to create a bulge in his gym shorts that makes it hard to tell, but one day he forgets to wear underwear and you catch him changing.

His soft is bigger than your hard, in every dimension. It’s honestly embarrassing that a guy like you is even considered in the same category as a guy like him—that’s what you think anyway. You’re getting hard watching his dick jiggle as he shifts his weight while changing, but it’s not like anyone will notice less than an inch in your boxer briefs. You look away in time so he doesn’t see you flush with humiliation for being so inferior, you didn’t even know bottom growth could look like that! I mean, you’re really small anyway, maybe half an inch? Most guys don’t get luckier than 1.5 inches even after years on T…but he is packing.

Your arm brushes his while you pull your shirt off and adjust your binder, he smiles at you. “Nice job today kid, I can tell you’ve been training hard between sessions”, he’s toweling off his upper body while he talks to you, flexing and contracting his arms, chest, his back—“you seem distracted”, he points out as you’re staring at his pecs, and coach flexes to emphasize he knows where your attention is at.

“I, uh, I’m ah…I mean I’ve never seen you change before”. You wish you hadn’t said it but when you start you can’t stop, “your bottom growth is fucking huge, coach. I didn’t think it could get that big”. He laughs and punches your arm harder than he means to, or maybe he wanted to hit you that hard. “It can, if you don’t mess around with that low dose shit, you could make way more progress if you doubled your dose and stop being scared of becoming a man”. Coach puts his hand on your shoulder and gives you a faint smile, like a good father softening criticism with love.

“You want to look like me right?”, he cups one of his pecs and runs his hand down his abdomen. “You want to get big and hairy,” he grabs your hand and rubs it against the coarse hair on his abdomen, “just like this right? And down here too”. You stop just shy of touching his dick. “What if someone sees us coach? I don’t wanna be the gym slut…”.

“You won’t be the gym slut, you’ll be my slut, but only if you up your dose and start growing for me”. Coach lifts you up and carries you to the back of the locker room, slamming you up against the wall. “Let’s play show and tell, kid. Show me yours and I’ll tell you how big you could get if you really wanted”. You pull down your boxer briefs to show the tiniest head of growth, like a mini dick-tip barely poking out of its foreskin.

“That’s it? Really?” He bends down to look closer, keeping his hands on your waist; you can feel the warmth of his breath on you. “It’s not like I can make it grow faster! It-it’s just growing slower cus I’m on the gel…it’s not fair to compare us anyway, coach. You have the biggest I’ve ever seen”, you can almost feel his lips touching you and suddenly your legs feel like giving out. “No more gel. No more low-dose T.”, coach rubs his bottom lip over your dick, making it twitch in a way you’ve never felt before. “If you promise to do your shots and turn into a big, hairy muscle man for me I’ll suck you off, and you can think about how much better it’ll feel to get a blowjob when you have a big fat cock like mine”, you start squirming your hips trying to force yourself into his mouth, but he easily forces you down with his strong hands.

“I’ll double my dose coach, I’ll do it tonight! I’ll let you put the shot in my ass yourself”. As you say it he starts to close his lips around you and gently circle your tip with his tongue, but stops abruptly. “Don’t get so excited kid, I’m gonna need a little more effort from you if you really want to show me how much you want to be a man”. Coach presses you harder into the wall, “see how easy it is for me to pin you? Don’t you wish you were strong like me?”. You start to moan and pitifully try to push him off of you, accidentally rubbing your dick against his thigh. “Seems like all you want right now is my mouth. Isn’t that right, slut?”. You let your mouth hang open and start rocking your body against your coaches hard, hairy thighs.

“I want to be just like you coach…”, you say moving close enough to kiss him, but he puts his hand over your mouth. “How about this”, coach moves down to your hips again, “I’m gonna suck your baby dick while you tell me how badly you want to be a big man for me”.

Coach starts lightly wrapping his lips around you, not sucking yet, just looking up at you like a muscle whore. “I want to be just like you coach, I want to eat and lift until my muscles feel like they’re going to explode”, coach starts sucking you off and doing this flick with his tongue…even his tongue is so strong… “I want to be be bigger than you, even if I have to quit my job and lift 24/7 and be an empty-headed muscle slut, only thinking about injecting myself with T and eating and lifting until the only clothes I can wear are XXL tank tops, I-“ you gasp as coach grabs your ass to push your cock harder into his mouth, sucking and slipping his tongue over your hole as the same time. “I-I…want to feel my dick getting bigger, I want to fill up your mouth with thick it is, I want to look like a real man next to you”. Coach keeps sucking and starts finger banging you like he’s possessed, you could not have imagined how sexy he would look with his shoulders flexed, veins bulging on his arms while he takes you into his mouth…red faced, sweating, gasping and moaning on your little clit-dick…

You cum so hard in his mouth you feel on the edge of blacking out.

“Now bend over and I’ll get the needle”.

[ambermeh]

It’s casual

part three and last part :) smut warning as well

Part 1 part 2

Once you had woken up, you realised where you were, your head hurting a little. You were in his bed. He had slept on the coach or in nicks room just to give you a bit of comfort. The smell of him just giving you some calmness. About to go back to sleep, you turned to your side and there was a little note that said good morning with a little heart. A little flutter in your stomach. It had been a while since anyone had done anything so small yet so sweet. Chris and you went back so far. You had met Matt through Chris ages ago and then developed feelings for Matt. Why not Chris though? You knew he was handsome, funny and good looking. Why had you looked to Matt?

Squeaking, the door opened, Chris was holding a glass of water and some food.

‘Thought you might need it, you need to keep hydrated’

You gave him a small smile and took the water into your hands.

‘You know, you didn’t need to do any of this, I don’t want anything to come between you and Matt’

The more you thought about it, the more you realised how selfish you had been. One of the nicest things about Matt was that he had such a good relationship with his brothers. And you had done something that could ruin that. Plus, you were now laying in Chris’ bed when Matt could come in at any time.

People would surely think you were a slut going from brother to brother, but would they? Matt had always kept the relationship, if you could call it that, hidden from his friends and everyone really. Like you were a dirty little secret.

Chris looked at you.

His face had a familiar look on it.

‘Stop overthinking, just sit up and eat’

How had Chris always known you so well? It was like he had a book of all your thoughts and feelings. You hadn’t even told Matt how much you overthink, knowing it would just make you have more baggage that would be unattractive to him.

‘Chris, how do you always know what I’m like? You’ve always got me’

He gave you a small smile, as a blush crept on his cheeks. He winked at you, jokingly, and explained that that was all he knew. You.

Chris’ perspective:

You had finally seen him, you were now looking at him like you looked at Matt before all the stuff happened. All it took was to get Matt out of the way.

Chris had known exactly what to do when he knew you had a little crush on Matt.

He was the one who asked Matt what the relationship between the two of you, knowing that Matt wouldn’t want to say anything too much. As soon as he saw you with matts T-shirt he knew you had some doubts. You were listening in a doorway, I mean you were desperate and all Chris had to do was plant a few seeds of doubt.

He had been the one to make casual jokes about who Matt was seeing. He knew you would go home and look at them, compare yourself with them.

He was the one who had talked to both harry and the girl before the night of the party. He had told harry you were feeling lonely and upset so if he could cheer you up, and as for the girl he told her that Matt was looking for her.

It had all fit into place when he had seen you crying. You were falling for his plan. Now you were vulnerable to his touch, his love.

And he loved it.

Y/N perspective

While you talked, laughed and cried with Chris you were feeling like you had in the start with Matt. But the difference was Chris was your best friend you trusted him.

‘Why don’t you come here, ma?’

He was tapping his side, next to him in bed. You had been in that position before, but this time it felt like it had repercussions. Matt could walk in.

But that nickname. The one that made you want to listen to whatever he said. The one that made shivers run up your spine.

Almost as if Matt had heard, he came in the room.

‘Matt, there is a door for a reason’

He had ignored Chris. He looked rough, his hair messy, eyes puffy. His eyes cold, not even looking at Chris, almost looking straight pat him. At you. The attention made you squirm, and in a way that you never wished you came back to Chris’.

‘Thought I heard you y/n, look can we just talk’

‘She said what she wanted to last night, she’s done with your games so just leave her alone’

You didn’t tell Chris what you said, did you? Maybe he’d overheard it, you couldn’t really remember everything that happened.

‘You are with my girl. Chris I want to talk to her. Alone.’

‘The thing is Matt, she was never your girl, was she? You just wanted to fuck her, that’s what you said to me and nick, casual you called it’

Sinking deeper into the bed, you wanted this torture to end, Matt was beginning to make you feel guilty, with the way he looked and how desperate he sounded. But you had to stay strong.

‘I said all I had to say yesterday, leave me and Chris alone, please’

His eyes looked at you for a moment longer before he left. He hadn’t even tried to fight for you. He had left. Immediately.

Chris had. Had always. He was the first to defend you in front of anyone.

You sat next to him. Looking at his hair, while he rested his hand on your knee. Your brain melting at the almost hot feeling where his hand was. This was such an innocent gesture, but it had you more needy than anything before. You needed Chris, no matter hats happened after.

‘Whats with that look ma? You look a bit desperate’

You nodded, if you voiced it, it would be more real. More wrong. More betraying.

‘Come on pretty girl, say it, what do you want?’

‘I want you Chris, need you to kiss me please’

His hand reached for your waist as he pulled you into his lap. You face reaching towards his as he kissed you. It was slow at first, cautious but as you started to pull his hair, he became more harsh and sloppy. Him grabbing your neck for more control, to stop you from moving. You moaned. He pulled away and his eyes traced your face.

‘Fuck that was like heaven ma, you want me to move your hips’

Eyes heavy and hooded, it made him seem corruptive, dark. Exciting. He was the only thing you could think about.

‘Please Chris need you’

‘You know that you’re mine now, you can’t go with anyone else. Not after years, do you want me to be your boyfriend?’

His mouth was latched onto your neck, biting and kissing.

You thought about it, Chris as your boyfriend, you had never expected this. Especially not after last night, it was all so fast. But it was what you wanted, right? Chris had always had a special place in your heart. This was just the natural progression. It didn’t feel forced, it felt good.

‘Of course Chris, you treat me so well’

‘Better than Matt ever did’ he muttered as he stared moving your hips.

‘So much- fuck better than him’

And that was all he needed to hear.

You were his, he was yours.

Just needed a bit of help.

Thank you all for staying with me on this series :) hope you liked this part 4 actual end

@mellovanello @mariasturniolo @sturnsxplr-25 @whatrulookingat11 @fads888 @seluky10 @jcrabtree11 @xaristhings

[sayruq]

In January of 2024, Dr. Bara Zuhaili entered Gaza on a two-week medical mission with a U.S.-based organization, Rahma Worldwide. Dr. Zuhaili dedicated most of his time to Shuhada' Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir Al-Balah, central Gaza. While this was not his first experience in a wartime or crisis setting — he had undertaken medical missions in Syria and was in southern Turkey during the earthquake — it proved to be his most horrific. As a vascular surgeon, he was tasked with assisting Gazan doctors in one of the ugliest tasks of this war: amputations. A generation of amputees has emerged, with over 10 children losing one or more limbs per day, on average, since the beginning of the war. Dr. Ghassan Abu-Sittah called it “the biggest cohort of pediatric amputees in history.” Even this statistic, reported by UNICEF in December of 2023, is now outdated. The true number of men, women, and child amputees remains unknown, with estimates ranging upwards of 10,000 people. It is a number that will continue to rise as new and unknown weapons destroy tissue and bone, crumbling medical infrastructures and scarce supplies force constant life-and-death decisions, while infections and chronic illnesses — largely ignored — silently kill or handicap thousands.

Is this the first time you've worked in a war zone or in a humanitarian crisis? Did any of them prepare you for this? It was not the first time. Unfortunately, I had experience in Syria, working in the underground hospitals in the besieged areas of Aleppo and Idlib. There, the healthcare facilities were also under constant attack by the Syrian regime. But Gaza was unlike anything I had seen before. To start, the supply chain was completely broken. Supplies were extremely limited in Deir Al Balah, where I was based for most of my stay. The hospital functioned at only 5-10% capacity compared to any similar hospital in the Middle East—I'm not even talking about an American hospital. Then, there were the number of patients. Just to give you an idea: Shuhada' Al-Aqsa Hospital in Deir Al Balah is only equipped for 150 patients. Under extreme circumstances, they could maybe stretch to accommodate up to 200 patients. When I arrived, there were 950 patients, in addition to over 20,000 refugees sleeping in the corridors of the hospital and its complex. Every time we experienced a bombardment, we had anywhere from 20 to 60 patients rushing in simultaneously, in addition to the patients already being treated. It was completely overwhelming and overcrowded. The third issue had to do with the type of injuries. I've seen a lot of trauma before — traumatic injuries are not new to me — but the level of trauma I saw was something I've never witnessed in my entire life. When I was in the operating room, I would get a call from the ER saying someone was shot in the leg and they needed me as soon as possible. In my mind, someone shot in the leg with a bullet would have an entry size of about five to six millimeters and an exit wound size of about two centimeters long. That is what I was familiar with. What I saw in Gaza — which I had never seen before — was literally as if an explosion, an RPG, had exploded into the leg. The entry wound would be about five to 10 centimeters wide and the exit wound would be almost 30 centimeters wide. One bullet would destroy a diameter of 10-15 centimeters… all of the muscle, bone, arteries, and nerves were all gone, destroyed.I'm not a military expert, I don't know much about weapons. But I don't know what kind of bullet can cause that much destruction. With a bullet wound in the U.S., I could get away with doing a bypass to salvage the leg. In Gaza, there was nothing anyone could do to salvage the leg. The amount of tissue damage forced me to do amputations almost every single time. 

Can you describe what a single day would look like? As a rule, anytime a bombardment happened, we would wait between four to eight hours before we received any injured people. In Deir Al-Balah, we would see the missile hitting two to three kilometers away and we knew that there were many casualties, but it would take these people — who were only three kilometers away from us — four to eight hours to reach our location. The IOF (Israeli Occupation Forces) prevented any ambulances from entering the scene, and anyone attempting to help or approach would be shot. I had many cases where the ambulance driver would come to me holding two or three kids. They were dead, and he would swear to me they were alive four hours ago. We lost a lot of lives just waiting to reach us in the hospital. Our days typically began around seven in the morning, and even though the night was filled with attacks and bombardments, no casualties would reach us before the morning. By then, we would go to the ER and try to start the triage process: determining who needs to go to the OR first and who could afford to wait. We would then perform surgeries throughout the day, often not finishing until one or two in the morning. Sometimes, if I had time, I would do my rounds to check on the patients, and by late afternoon, we would have more bombardments and injuries coming in until midnight. Usually, by midnight, things slowed down… not because there was no bombardment, but because they couldn't reach us anymore.

[fumifooms]

Chilchuck’s wife and family - Facts, theories and headcanons

I want to keep this as a sort of masterpost on Chil’s family situation if I can, but if we get a lot of information on it (in the additional content that Kui is gonna make) that renders this more or less useless I probably won’t update this anymore. If you find other crumbs of information or I've said anything factually incorrect please do tell me! I'm planning to edit this as we go since I want to compile most if not all of the information and pages we get about this topic on here, and if I just wait to post it perfection paralysis will nip this in the bud. It focuses a lot on Chilchuck and Chilchuck's wife relationships, but the daughters and Chilchuck's own parents and siblings are talked about as well.

CW/disclaimer: This post talks about messy family dynamics and such, there’s no outright abuse I’m implying anywhere, but alcoholism and neglect are mentioned and discussed. I’m not here to demonize anyone! I love every character involved and I just want to theorize about the topic as a layered issue that involves complex characters. Also, I try to use very transparent language as to when I’m citing or analyzing canon information and when I’m giving a personal interpretation or headcanoning.

Abbreviated table of content:

Timeline and circumstances

Possible strains on the marriage

The hair question. Confirmation on what his wife looks like?

Other family dynamic & post-canon theories & headcanons

Parenting style + misc in a reblog addition (new)

Let’s start with the facts, shall we?

Timeline and circumstances

So, we see that Chilchuck and his wife are childhood friends, and they married at 13 years old and had two children in that same year. Since half-foots reach the age of maturity at 14, they seem to be what we'd call teen parents. It's a bit debatable though, since Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen (humans) is 16 instead of 18 or even 21, so what's considered to be the age of maturity is a cultural thing and isn't fully reliable when we want to compare to our irl understanding and what developmental stage it perfectly aligns with. Also, during the succubus chapter Chichuck says that his daughters were all now of age to be independent, and Chilchuck's wife leaves to live with Flertom, which would mean that Puckpatti was independent at age 10 and lived away from home as well (since she's the third/last daughter). Ah yes another interesting thing to note is that we don’t know the pregnancy periods for the races, since Meijack and Flertom were born the same year. It could be tight timing or it could be something else, but I don’t think they’re twins, they keep talking about them being the oldest and the middle child, them being twins is definitely the sort of thing that would get mentioned.

Him starting working on the island notably happens just one year before his wife leaves him. I don't remember the other instances of him mentioning it though I feel like it happened, but since he started working at the Island's dungeon, working as a dungeon diver and then forming the half-foot guild, that probably means he started being away for longer periods of time and having a less reliable schedule on when he'd be coming back home. It is said that he went back home somewhat regularly iirc, though he usually ends up sleeping at the half-foot guild quarters. I'm not sure if Kahka Brud is also where he lived with his family, or just since he rented someplace new after she left him. He and his timeline state that he was born in a small village "northeast of the island", which he left at 14 one year after being married, but it isn’t stated where they go after so it’s unsure how far his home was from the island if it wasn’t in Kahka Brud. We don’t know when his father died so if that factors in to him leaving his village we have no clue.

Chil also says that he hasn’t seen or spoken with his wife nor daughters since the incident, which would mean he's gone 4 years without contact with his family during the events of canon. I don't remember if Chilchuck is said to exchange letters with his daughters, beyond the initial one from Flertom saying her mother was with her, so I've been assuming he hasn't.

He also says "For about ten years I’ve been travelling to dungeons in various areas and doing work" which considering he’s turning 29 that year would mean he started around 19 years old? The panel also gives details what sort of work he’s been doing. Either way it’s confirmed that Chilchuck travels for his work a lot.

In addition, since Chilchuck has the seal of approval of the bicorn + says so himself, he has always stayed faithful to his wife. So that means that unless he's had previous adventures before he was 14 and got married, he's never dated anyone else in his life, nor had romantic or sexual encounters/experiences with others in his 16 years of marriage right up to canon (year 514). I feel it’s safe to say that it’s implied that during all these years starting from when they were married, Chilchuck's wife was a housewife whose main job was taking care of the kids and the house.

Marcille's take on what happened is unreliable, as Kui even takes the time to directly say so in the Adventurer's Bible, so I don't want to use it as a baseline even if it offers some insight on what could have happened (her feeling out of place, leaving to test his love, etc etc).

What Chilchuck says seems to be accurate though since it pertains to his perspective of the events! Unlike how Marcille's theory flows, Chilchuck was aware that something was off before she left since she "suddenly fell into a bad mood".

Piecing everything together, my theory: Chilchuck and his wife were childhood friends and have always always sort of danced around of each other, the classic movie love story with childhood sweethearts, until they ultimately confessed and got together. While dating, Chilchuck's wife becomes pregnant and they're both unequiped to deal with the situation but decide to marry, either a bit forced in order to cover it up or hopeful to make the best of it. They make it work as they can and Chilchuck works to provide for the family while she takes care of the home and the kids, which means that even though he's not a deadbeat father (he cares, he was at least a bit involved in their lives and raising them since for example he knows how to braid hair after all) he ends up being rather absent from home. It only gets worse over the years, especially when Chilchuck starts working further and further away from home and coming home less often, and since Puckpatti left home Chilchuck's wife is alone at home most of the time, never knowing when Chilchuck would be coming and if to prepare the table for two instead of one, or even if he'd be coming back at all since his work is dangerous. The humdrum and lifestyle would get to her, they've grown into different people in these 10 years of marriage and she doesn't feel the spark or feels valued & seen anymore, so she leaves. He feels confused and betrayed which turns into anger so he doesn’t try to reach out and mend things, and with the way he says they’re estranged and he moves away I think he’s avoiding his family somewhat.

Possible strains on the marriage

Tfw all your daughters are independent and your husband is gone to work almost all the time and he barely even tells you that he loves you, is there even a reason to stay together anymore? Every day it’s just you and an empty house and chores to do, wondering if you have to cook for one or for two today.

Alright it’s analysis and theorizing time! Although there are more facts down in this post if you care about Chilchuck's wife's appearajce, Chilchuck's parents & siblings or the kids, the essential facts so to speak were all in the first part.

We don't see Chilchuck showing any discontent with his wife through the manga so I'm assuming that he was content in his marriage, happy with his wife, and with how he stayed faithful to her even in the 4 years after she left (and never stopped calling her his wife. Which also shows a weird stubborn attitude since he wasn’t planning on reaching out to her and mend things but I’ll put aside the possible entitlement/coping mechanism for another time) I think he truly loved her and still does. Since she left him and not the reverse, I'm putting a lot of emphasis on his wife's side of things. Especially since we do see how Chilchuck is at work quite a bit but never see how he is at home. I’ll be sounding harsh towards Chil on this but he’s pretty much the only party we can criticize since we don’t know her, I still side with Chil on the leaving issue though, he’s justifiably pissed if she left without a word what the hell even.

Alcoholism and health

Chilchuck’s favorite food as listed in the Adventurer’s Bible is beer, and it’s shown that he’s prone to drinking until drunk whenever he gets the opportunity to. A cheerful drunk is still a drunk. (Extra reading: if interested here's a oneshot FMA fanfic by a friend that goes in depth about this very topic that really illustrates what sort of family dynamic that can bring about. It’s not dunmeshi but it’s a good read.) Chilchuck is also canonically underweight, starving himself for a strict weight management diet (Extra reading: you can look at a short compilation post about that here). Did you know under eating makes one irritable? And this is on top of Chilchuck sometimes/regularly coming back home with "horrible injuries", since Marcille guesses it and he acts like she’s dead right on everything that far.

It’s rough seeing someone you love mistreat themselves, not being able to shake them out of that and having to stay to see them wasting away. It’s rough seeing them put their work above their own health. Putting their work even above their family. Putting alcohol over family time. It's not that simple, but there's always that element when asking someone you love to tone it down with things like alcohol or such, that if they refuse, then it feels like they value that thing more than they value your feelings or opinions. That they love alcohol more than they love you.

You know how there’s often this thing of "Well I’m providing everything for this family, so whatever else that I do you don’t get to complain." I do think that it’s something they’d have argued over a little bit, not that he’d say it that way, but the essence of it. "Chilchuck, you’re drinking a lot of alcohol often, I’m worried maybe you should ease up on it." "This is what I want to do in my free time, give me a break.", "Dear, your mood gets worse when you’re hungry, I really think you should stop dieting-" "Would you rather I die in a trap because I was too heavy?", "Honey I don’t like when you work so far away from home for so long" "Well what else can I do, do you have any better idea?". That sort of thing. Even if not being passive agressive or snappy, or even spoken upon, these situations can cause tension, or a feeling of powerlessness or imbalance in the relationship. Although I personally feel like they were both rather passive in their relationship (thus having little arguments), which itself can be a problem since yes they let each other live but they grew more distant and less communicative as a result, more on that later. Content and tolerating, rather than happy and fulfilled.

Workaholism and long distance

Spending a lot (or even a majority?) of time away from home for years and years obviously can strain relationships in many ways. Besides becoming more distant, both with his wife and his daughters, there's just that side that maybe you grow apart or you end up not knowing them all that well. Like the fictional dialogue excerpts I wrote just above, the way Chilchuck puts work above most things can by itself be the source of a lot of unhealthy habits and strains that could not only hurt himself but his relationships too. Devoted doesn’t mean attentive, even if Chilchuck 100% devotes himself to only her romantically and works in the goal to support her that doesn’t transfer into being there for her, even when he physically is.

An absent father isn't necessarily a deadbeat father, but an absent father is absent. And alright, we don’t know what his schedule was like exactly, but he was busy and traveled around, I think it’s fair to assume that if we were to make comparisons it’d be like parents irl who are often on work trips. We don't know what Chilchuck's wife's social circle is like, but regardless of how big or small or supportive it is it would be easy to get lonely I think. Besides raising the kids undoubtedly falling more onto her shoulders as well. Managing a household can be very hard and tiring even when not alone, I can imagine she felt like she missed the support of Chilchuck either as help or comfort oftentimes. We know very little about her, but I don't get the impression that she'd build up resentment over it except maybe her ‘falling into a bad mood’, but exhaustion? Absolutely.

It’s also implied imo, even beyond Chil not often being at home, that they rarely go out together. And that could very well be part of why she was mad after the outing. In Marcille’s theory she says that her wife felt out of place amongst all the cool adventurer coworkers, and if it’s a rare time that they go out together and it was supposed to be about her meeting his coworkers… I feel like what could have happened was that she felt out of place yes, and even moreso if she ended up not participating in conversations much because of it and no one really seemed to care, and the evening was all Chilchuck and his coworkers chatting it up as always and she was an outsider, if she sort of just faded into the background, if it felt like nothing would have changed wether she was there or not... If she felt like her presence didn’t matter on this special outing that rarely happened, it could have been the straw that broke the camel’s back for her to want to leave, definitely. He finally comes back after a long work travel and they finally go out and this is what their quality time is like? The outing that was supposed to be about her & them both ended up being all about him, and once more she was supposed to just orbit around him and his life without complaint or her own selfish wants like a devoted wife. With how Chil said that she got mad "all of a sudden" on the way home and he didn’t know why, plus that he was probably drunk (which may very well have made the whole thing worse), I feel like it supports that he didn’t pay her much attention during the evening, not that I’m assigning him ill intent at all, I’m sure that for him, it was a casual and fun night out and he didn’t think it'd been unpleasant or alienating for her.

That night

And all of this speculation in order to try and figure… What happened? Why did she leave? I've already gone into it a fair bit, but this is where I discuss it fully in depth.

We can’t rely on Marcille’s theory. Neither in the why she felt so out of place enough to want to leave, nor if her intention when leaving was to "test" him. I definitely agree that the reason why she left is layered and that the night/outing was the straw that broke the camel’s back more than the cause perse, but besides that it’s hard to say how much of it was impulsive and how much was because nothing else had worked to fix their relationship, or how long she'd been thinking of maybe leaving him.

Personally my favorite interpretation isn't that she found herself to be boring surrounded with Chilchuck's adventurer coworkers, or her reason for leaving is super centered around insecurity and if Chilchuck even loves her anymore, but that she sees how rich and eventful Chilchuck's life is and at the same time realizes how stagnant her own life has been. Chilchuck has adventurers for coworkers and they go out to bars and spend evenings together chatting it up, while she always does the same house chores every day and waits, and wonders, uncertain about when her huband would come back, and waits some more. She has a sort of passive role in her own life that gets pulled in one way or another by the people around her at their whims and needs, which is also a recurring theme in the manga: having a passive role in your own life, or a role that's devoted to others. Like with Falin who's always following her parents' directives or following Laios around, being the party's healer and eventually sacrificing herself for Laios and Marcille (she also doesn't seem to think much of marriage, as seen with Shuro proposing to her and her not having answered yet, which fits with how she was supposed to have an arranged marriage in her hometown too; a loveless marriage isn't something alarming to her). Izutsumi too, whose whole arc is about her gaining freedom and figuring out how to use this empowerment for herself and what she wants.

So she'd sit there, not knowing anyone except Chilchuck and not being able to follow their conversations about dungeons, and think about how this is a world she's totally apart from. How she knows so little of the world compared to him. She'd realize that while she's always waiting for Chilchuck to come home, dedicated to him and their family, Chilchuck's world doesn't stop and end at where and when he sees her, that while she's waiting he's living and experiencing things and being self-fulfilled. She's so passive and devoted and her tasks seem almost senseless now that the house is empty except for her, and in that time he's formed half-foot unions and she understands so little of what his life has become outside of her sight. This isn't a diss on Chilchuck or his attitude, I just think that it'd make her ponder about happiness and lifestyles, what's worth it and if she's content with her life. I think she'd find that her and Chilchuck aren't on the same page anymore, and probably they don't communicate much or even that they don't know how to communicate with each other anymore.

Other factors

They really do seem to be on different pages and not know how to communicate with each other well, since for example Chilchuck thinks that on the way back home she "suddenly" fell into a bad mood and seemingly left it alone, or otherwise they didn't talk until he knew what was wrong. Or like how she left and Chilchuck never reached out to her to talk or mend things, just like she never reached out either. According to Marcille it could be that she wanted to "test his love" and see if he'd even care if she was gone, but Chilchuck just got angry that she left like that and never reached out to her, so if that's true they definitely have incompatible expectations or ways to deal with things like that. Maybe she thought of leaving as something he should react to by trying to win her back, but Chilchuck did nothing and let her do her thing, and tbh if that were me I'd also have waited on her to reach out because I figure out that if someone leaves me they want space from me idk. He seems to be rather passive when it comes to interpersonal relationships and how they can mess up, made an analysis post here that talks about it, so the way he reacted by not reacting doesn't feel surprising, maybe she didn't know/remember that part of him, or wanted to shake him out of that tendency. He has no clue why she left, and there are just so many misunderstandings here that it's impossible to know what happened and how she felt and what she wanted for the future.

Also, we’re shown that younger Chilchuck, when he started dungeon crawling, is much more "innocent" and optimistic, less closed off on himself and bitter, and maybe he hasn't even developed his famous "sarcastic retorts" and "abusive remarks" yet as is plastered on all his character introductions and stats. Chilchuck has definitely changed a lot over the years, and some would argue not for the better. Staying with someone for so long has implications that they'll change and be different of course, but signing up for marriage with someone can still leave you questioning that choice decades down the line when they're so different

We get to see his freckles fade in sync with his corruption arc /j

Tfw when you can’t recognize the man you fell in love with.

The hair question

Edit 1/13/2024 leak!!!! Things aren’t officially confirmed but this is a safe bet. You can still read this section to see my reasoning to thinking she had black hair prior to this tho haha

It's not all that important rationally, but the community's been split on the topic: is Chilchuck's wife blonde or not?

Kui highlights Chilchuck being attracted to blondes a grand total of three times, and many assume that his wife is blonde due to this. However, the only vision we see of Chilchuck's wife is Marcille imagining herself as a halfling, so it's up for debate! Flertom has black hair, and that's mostly been the key clue that has people arguing.

I'm not an expert in genetics but black hair is a dominant gene, but it also doesn't mean a black haired parent can't have a brown haired kid, or that two brown haired parents can't have a kid with black hair. As long as one of the parents have it in their genetic code from somewhere in their family tree, it's possible, if not maybe unlikely.

People have been taking Flertom having black hair as evidence that Chilchuck's wife has black hair, but it could be Chilchuck that has the gene and could pass it on. Although...

That seems unlikely. We don't know what Chilchuck's elder brother's hair color was, and his elder sister does have a darker brown hair color, but in the case their parents had black hair or the gene for it, it seems highly unlikely if not impossible for the dominant black hair gene to miss this many amount of time in the gene russian roulette game.

And so I shall now call a witness to the stand, and you reader shall be the judge… Dandan.

You know, this guy? He makes appearances throughout the whole manga, but only has one spoken line in an easy to brush over flashback iirc. He's most often seen hanging out around Chilchuck and other half-foots, but it's unsure how far back he and Chilchuck go.

Now. Remember how Chilchuck and his wife are childhood friends? What if, and hear me out, what if Dandan is related to her. A cousin, or a sibling. Or maybe he's Chilchuck's cousin, even, if we go the reverse route.

The chapter cover

Look at the chapter cover below! We see each member of the main party at a table that's meaningful to them and their history, mostly showing themes of family, community and routine. Laios and Falin sharing a meal by themselves, Marcille at a meal in the cafeteria at the magic academy, Senshi by himself cooking in the dungeon, Izutsumi with Inutade at the Nakamoto household, and... Chilchuck, surrounded by much more mysterious and unknown characters and surroundings.

The only face we see besides the infant is a young one on the left which strikes me as looking a ton like Chilchuck! I doubt it's Meijack or Puckpatti, or someone else, especially since Chilchuck left his hometown pretty early which must make family gatherings harder (and routine is implied with the others’ panels). If it were Meijack I think Kui would have drawn it to more closely match her too, and have her usual freckles. I also don't think it's just Chilchuck and his own family, since if that's Chilchuck the only sibling with black hair he could have is his elder brother and the infant in the middle is clearly, well an infant.

My thoughts are that the table is shared with family friends, or at least members of the community. The elderly person implies that either there's extended family or it’s a gathering, especially if Chilchuck's grandparents don't live with them. Community is implied to be very important with half-foots imo, and if Chilchuck is from a small hometown like he says that would surprise me even less. Childhood friends are often brought together as friends because of circumstances, such as proximity or their families being friends! Doesn't that kid almost off-panel on the right, with a Flertom-like hairstyle and black hair, look to be the same age as the Chilchuck on the left? 👀

Also… Notice the dragon plush she’s holding?

Passed down from mom to daughter? The "most likely belonged to his daughters" is interesting too

If he is related, Dandan could be the infant. I suppose he doesn't end up mattering all that much in the end if you theorize that the Flertom-like kid is his wife on its own though haha. But wether or not you think that this is convincing enough, it's all we have on the topic for now.

Ah yes! Lastly, I've seen the sentiment around that his wife should be blonde, that Chilchuck's taste for blondes, if not the thing that brought them together, should be an acquired taste from loving his wife. That if that's not the case, then Chilchuck's type being blondes is either out of place or insuting or unromantic, etc etc. I can't help but disagree! I think, especially with how Chilchuck and his wife are domestic and all about knowing each from a young age, familiarity etc etc, that it would be so sweet if she wasn't his type! Loving someone so deeply, even if they aren't an idealized type... Which is a common theme/story & character beat in Dungeon Meshi.

Family dynamic theories

Meijack is the most capable, takes after her father the most, seems to have her own business as a locksmith but has a stable steady life. Flertom is the most social, she works at a tavern which seems stable and is ambitious with marriage plans, she has a caring side to her since she sent her dad a handmade gift. Puckpatti is the most upbeat, though she has the most unstable lifestyle, seemingly doing odd jobs.

His daughters do seem well adjusted, which encourages me in that their family seems amicable on the whole and (at the very least) decently functional. We don’t hear what they think of Chilchuck but presumably none of them are on bad terms with him or each other. Flertom does say that "half-foot men are stingy" which, gee, I wonder what half-foot man would have made taught her that- though it does also seem to be a racial stereotype in general, with how for example Namari also says to "steer clear from stores with half-foot clerks".

Flertom seems to be the only one who reached out after their mother left (the only one who's mentioned to have done so at least), and it's because she was the one who took in her mother. It’s not implied that they exchange letters regularly too iirc, it possibly was the only letter they've exchanged since then. I wonder if the daughters even know the full story, if their mother told them all about it or very little. Maybe some are pretty out of the loop, or more distant.

It strikes me that they don't seem to be very close. We're not shown anything that leads us to believe they don't like their father, but I think they're so used to him being absent for work that such distance is normal for them and they don't really long for a deeper relationship or to see him often. They were already out of the house and it seems like they didn't see each other much at that time either so for them it would be just a bit less than the regular amount of Dad time. It's been 4 years Chilchuck what are you doing... But yeah! From what we see they seem mostly unaffected, almost indifferent, not that we can truly tell. I imagine Flertom is the one most attached to Chilchuck with how she sent him a handmade cowl, and I think he rubbed off the most on Meijack teachings wise (besides her attitude, she’s also the one who still wears braids, and we see that Chilchuck braids hair). It makes sense, since they're oldest, and on the contrary I think Puckpatti is the one that knows her father the least. It'd fit the timeline with him working away more while she grew up imo.

Wouldn't it be interesting then that she's the one that Chilchuck says is carefree, in the official translation "doesn't treat life real seriously"? That she's the most optimistic, the most go-with-the-flow, out of the bunch? To me that sounds like a result from her being the youngest and Chil being the most often at work, thus her getting raised by her mother without as much involvement from Chil. Far be it from me to say Chilchuck would raise his daughters to be unhappy btw, not at all, we just all know what down-to-earth values he wants others to have so he doesn't have to worry about them.

Although… Puckpatti spotted?? Seems like he wants to stop her from buying something? His heart meter for her is full <3 (Note: I’ve seen it be argued that this could be his wife. I disagree, since the "stop them" and way that the long haired one is off-center compared to everyone else gives the sense that it’s many of his daughters, and the fact that it’s styled after a dating sim doesn’t mean it’s romantic love as we see with the others. Otherwise imagine being her wife and he tells you not to buy stuff when you go shopping together rip)

Headcanons time:

When naming the daughters, together they choose a pool of names they’d like but only one has the final say, and they alternate between who that is. Chilchuck sticks around more near the end of her pregnancies, and he hasn’t missed any of their births. I don’t have any opinions on who named who right now, but there could be some interesting stuff to theorize with Puckpatti, like them taking extra care picking the name together because they settled on her being their last daughter for fluff, or it was supposed to be Chilchuck but he was so busy that he ended up not picking in time and she was the one to name her for angst.

Actually scratch that I have a new theory : What if it’s actually customary for each parent to pick one half of their half-foot kid’s name? So then each would have chosen half of each girl’s name… And this could be why Chil calls Puckpatti Patti instead of Puck which is her first name, because he’s stubborn since Patti was his pick lmaoooo. Pattipuck doesn’t have the same ring to it alas, his wife was so right

Chilchuck liked to do activities with the girls when they were young. He's not opposed to relaxing at home with them perse, but he likes to do workshops with stuff like arts & crafts to develop their agility some. I don't think they'd do much outings to places like restaurants or theatres for money reason, and I don't think Chilchuck is much of an outdoors type, but he could accompany them to nice fields to play in, or in winter places to play in snow and sled, and organize some activities at home. He's not home very often so when he is he likes to take it easy as a break from work and values the time he gets with his family.

Chilchuck would sometimes work from home as a locksmith, say, unlocking a chest for a customer. In those times, Meijack would take interest and watch him work, even handing him the tools he needs as he goes. In this way, Chilchuck taught her a lot about the work of a locksmith over time. He's also the one that would oil door hinges or do renovation around the house- when he's available.

Like the plushies under his table in his home that we see in illustrations, Chilchuck has a lot of mementos from his daughter (and his wife) he keeps around. Sometimes they take a bothersome amount of place, but throwing anything out isn't something he's seriously willing to consider. Flertom's the most artistic and she used to help with sewing clothes back together, so he has a cheap ceramic mug painted by her when she was really young and small embroideries around.

Imo Meijack would be the most distant in the present. Flertom makes efforts for her parents and is pretty involved, and Puckpatti's distance is more out of being a bit airheaded and being busy + not having a great grasp on time or what's a normal amount of family contact, but Meijack's the one who knowingly and intentionally keeps some distance. I think she’d be the least optimistic about their family situation, and although she’d be hopeful when Chilchuck reached out to them again she’d be a but hesitant. I think Meijack would hold some grudges, being the one most critical of their parenting, both grateful to her dad for working so hard for them and saddened that he wasn't in their life more. Since Flertom was born in the same year I think it’s possible that Meijack was pushed aside a bit to take care of the younger baby more, out of necessity rather than lack of love. Her mom probably needed a lot of help around the house too. Flertom wasn’t blind either, and she cared about & noticed her mom’s emotional states, but she’s on the whole more hopeful and forgiving.

This is my most far fetched one but it is a hc after all, but I think it'd be interesting if one of them had food hoarding tendencies/stress. I like to think it's Flertom, because she's the middle child and would get told that her older sister and younger sister are "growing and need the food" so she wouldn't be allowed to take as much refill or such, add that to them not having much money to frivolously spend on food and that makes a kid who's worried about not eating to her hunger and tends to be possessive over food (I'm projecting). Differential treatment is inevitable in families with many siblings, and it can manifest in small or big ways, maybe they realize it maybe they don't. Working in a tavern has helped eased that tendency of her though, and while she does diet a bit she always leaves a meal feeling satisfied.

When they were younger, Flertom was a real firecracker, loud and spirited with some troublemaking tendencies! She was the daughter that got in trouble & got scolded the most. You can still see slivers of it now that she’s an adult, but she’s much more poised and diligent. She has much more acquaintances than friends, but she has a couple of best friends and usually gets along well with most people. Puckpatti was always a bit head in the cloud, very kind if not gullible, and tended to make friends somewhat easily but didn’t keep them for long, preferring to keep meeting new people and not keeping in touch well. She isn’t super talkative but tends to ramble when she does. Meijack is very introverted, she has more trouble making friends, she has a good handful though they don’t meet up often, her friendships tend to last and she’s close to them. She’s grown more confident over the years, less repressed and more quiet. Meijack as the big sister tended to be the listener for her younger sisters who had more social mishaps. Flertom has dated once before and it only cemented to her that she was going to have very high standards from then on.

Meijack wears thigh-high boots because she hates when sand, dirt or snow gets in her shoes. She wears practical clothing but avoids anything frilly or flashy. Puckpatti also dresses practically, but she does enjoy pretty clothes, it’s more out of necessity and due to not having enough money to indulge. Flertom has a social stable job and she loves prettying herself up (especially as she’s in search of a husband) so she’s the one who gets the most and nicest fashionable clothes and accessories.

Chilchuck is hinted to have had a rather dysfunctional family himself (alcoholic father, distant siblings, etc). So he doesn’t really have the best model on how to raise someone and such. I imagine it was a sort of neglectful home situation, where the kids are encouraged to be independent. If they didn’t have to work or help around much, then free range parenting sort of thing. We do see how the family has full and warm feasts, where someone cleans his mouth with a rag, so it’s not like he didn’t have a caring circle or a tragic childhood though! I don’t remember if it’s explicitely stated, but he’s heavily implied to having grown up poor, as most half-foots, and I just think it's the hardened hardworking family type of childhood where just like he does with others they instill somewhat harsh life lessons in him, which in turn encourages him to indulge in the simple pleasures of life like alcohol and sex, or at least women’s beauty and crass jokes. We do see he seems more optimistic when he's younger in flashbacks, so a bunch of his harsh view on the world is still likely learned and earned rather than taught. I still think he inherited many flawed views from how his father acted, like his attitude about excessive drinking not being a big deal and worth it. That work hard play hard, enjoy life die young mentality he has, shown mostly in the "alcohol" section of his Adventurer's Bible profile, could very well be partly a result of the general poverty half-foot communities are that he grew in as well, like how he doesn't hope for things to be as best as they could be and contends with good enough. As far as I remember, his mother is never mentioned, but I doubt it implies she was out of the picture. She was probably a regular sort of mother that took care of the home as well and was still around when his father died. It looks like there’s a good age gap between one sibling to the next, that could be interesting to dig into too.

A part of Chilchuck’s character is that he takes responsibility for safety and actions of people around him and is very often looking out for them to not do faux-pas wether socially or literally with stepping onto traps. The way he says "I’ve got three people to think of here" makes me think that’s also how he’d think about having to provide for his family, and that could be a source of stress and insecurity for him. Caring for others is a pretty integral part of his character and we see time and time again that his family is very important to him, in any case.

Post-canon

This pic has so much to say!! It’s the ‘thank you for reading’ double page spread where they’re going to a big dining table at the castle with Laios and the main gang. First family gathering in 4 years perhaps?! I’ll say, not feeling very hopeful that his wife isn’t in this, not even implied to be just off-panel with a hand or anything… I imagine before this he still talked to them at least a bit and figured their family situation out, but I think this is still in the early stages of reconnecting. Haha imagine being one of them and receiving a letter saying "Hi it’s been a while… I want to introduce you to my ex-coworker the king and his friends, you up for that?" I don’t want to reconsider all my hcs for this yet, but this pic does seemingly show an eagerness from all the daughters to reunite and reconnect! Meijack’s could be seen as more hesitant, but I think it’s just awkwardness from meeting so many new people, of high status no less. Chilchuck does seem awkward and somewhat self-conscious though, and while that could be just from say Marcille and the others meeting his daughters and him not knowing how to act, I think that also shows that Chilchuck is unsure how to act around his daughters too. Can’t blame him, I’d be stressed too. Anyways, the daughters are all dressed up! Puckpatti even brought flowers! And I doubt it’s just for Senshi, or just to be in with the king. Oh also also, Puckpatti chides Meijack here, seemingly on manners?, so that implies new/different family dynamics there~

We know with the succubus chapter that he does plan on reaching out to his wife again and shooting his shot, and when Marcille was dungeon lord he told her she could help think of a plan to make up with her together at which point Marcille showered him in gifts and flowers intended for her and his daughters. So we do know that whatever happens and however it happens, Chilchuck definitely will at least reach out to her to win her back or worse case scenario get closure on the situation.

-

These are his plans before it’s revealed that the Island is… Well, not an island but the golden kingdom, so the news that Laios is king and that might have changed them a bit, but I think he’s still gonna stick around to help with the half-foot guild for a while.

My personal ideal post-canon Chilchuck life is that after around a year or two of helping around in the golden kingdom, especially regarding half-foot working rights, he gets his shop and finally settles down. He prioritized the whole half-foot guild because there are changes to attend to and people to help, but also used that to procrastinate a bit on getting in touch with his wife again. He does send a letter though, and when she replies they then meet face to face. They explain how it was like on their end, their grievances and their feelings, and they do reconcile. But… It’s been 4 years and his wife has frankly moved on. She’d rather they stay as friends, and Chilchuck has mixed feelings on it but is ultimately fine with it. He was halfway resigned to not reconciling with his wife in canon after all. But no longer do they have cut contact! They get together with the girls for the holidays and the ambiance is nice! He starts exchanging letters more regularly. He also gets a second family of clingy asses with Izutsumi and the main gang and so though he lives alone in his shop he’s well surrounded and well loved, and his daughters visit to check up on him every so often.

I really like the… Maturity of Chilchuck’s plotline, if that makes sense? To me the ending that fits the most is him and his wife reconciling, but not getting back together. I like that they could still be adults about it and at least amicable even after divorce, and that that wouldn’t be treated as a tragic ending. In the end, they were childhood friends and teenage parents, they rushed things a bit and I genuinely think they’re just not that compatible. If not then, at least having it be a gradual process, getting back together and making it work until they’re truly comforatble with each other. Destroy the relationship to better build it again stronger!

Although, his arc in the manga is to allow himself to form connections and be optimistic, which would fit well with him and his wife getting back together. I def think Chil would get healthier post-canon which could fix the issues they had in their relationship though. Like for one he starts eating more, which improves mood & irritability & health, and also after the whole half-foot guild he plans to settle down with a shop so it wouldn’t be long distance or unstable anymore which would definitely give his wife some peace of mind. If they still do some long distance at first while he gets the half-foot guild stable, it’d be really cute if he sent pressed flowers with his letters to her… That could make a nice fic concept, like over time all the pressed flowers and exchanged letters hehe (oh shit that’s a nice title)

My post-canon timeline is Chilchuck lives a nice life living alone in his house except his friends all visit him and care and even tho he likes living alone it’s also bittersweet and every corner of his life is haunted by mementos of the ones he loves and the moments he had with them. But then it’s also like the shared duty of everyone to pass by his shop when they can and keep the old man company and sometimes that means many people come at the same time like if both Meijack and Marcille came the same day~ Cozy life, no regrets except a lil regrets still. That’s it that’s all I want.

Misc

I didn’t know where to put this, so new category time! Family truly is a central theme of Chilchuck’s character. His reaction to learning more about how life gets made is so awed by the wonder of the world. Life indeed…

The implication of this page is that Chil didn’t know about the science side of how procreation works, though of course he did know about the practical side of it. This is speculation, and we have no clue how widespread the information of how reproduction scientifically works lol, but I think it’s fair to think that half-foots’ education especially in smaller communities is handled by the parent, school of life style, or if there are schools then the education is very general and it probably ends early. I think this is supported by how for example half-foots’ jobs we’ve seen are based on experience rather than knowledge, like being a locksmith. Of course any job has its fair share of specialized knowledge to learn, but jobs you learn on the fly pretty well. This sort of dynamic contrasts a lot against elves many tallmen communities, like with the magic academy, where education and knowledge are valued almost above experience, this is what the mandrake chapter was all about after all. Poorer communities tend to have poorer education systems as well irl, it’s a whole issue.

So I already said my piece about his wife not being blonde and it being nice and romantic because literally you don’t need someone to be a beauty ideal to love them and that’s fine and normal and even more romantic imo. But!! I do have an headcanon, now that his wife’s appearance is all but explicitly confirmed. While their hair is blonde, yes their hair is wavy and the ‘main’ one has deep-set eyes, not unlike his wife! Now this is a ‘which came first the egg or the chicken’ question, but while most people seem to be assuming that he got with his wife because she was his type, since they’re childhood friends I feel like it’s his love for his wife that shaped his preferences in that deparment. Like ok he loves golden hair and hers is black, but isn’t it so much more romantic that he has so much love and devotion for his wife and has stared lovingly at it so much over the years, that it’d become his ideal? He loves her eyes <3

Conclusion

Reminder that I’ve got more observations and tidbits compiled in a reblog addition now.

More stuff I should workshop for the masterpost:

Compile more info on Chilchuck's father and his other family. Edit: I compiled all I had pretty neatly here in a speculation post, but there’s no other concrete piece of info other than what I’ve covered here sadly. Same with stuff like Chilchuck’s past work schedule and exchanged letters, there seems to be no other bits of evidence, except…

On the chapter cover and extra where he’s in his basement room we can see one letter and a few papers across his desk. Maybe family letters? Wether his daughters or relatives. Seems too few to me, could just as well be job descriptions, but truly who knows, it’s hopeful.

Excellent analysis on half-foot culture here by a friend that I should read and incorporate the good info into my own meta~

And thus I leave you with a lil web weaving I made about Chil & his wife’s relationship~ And this is where I’d put panels of Chilchuck’s wife… IF THERE WERE ANY

Should we even call Chilchuck's wife Mrs. Tims... We don't know dunmeshi marrital traditions though, and half-foot already have somewhat complex naming conventions... I hate that we don't really know if the daughters' last names are Chils or Chilz. Although that seems to be a japanese to english translation issue, since japanese used the suffix zu and not su, likely to imitate the english S sound at the end of a word. Oh yeah the last names change each generation, that’s odd right? But in english it sounds like saying Chil’s, like, [father]’s, so I think this also supports how half-foots communities tend to be tightly knit and live in the present, for them to be like "Ooh so you’re [father]’s little one eh? I know who that is and this is insightful as to who your family is to me!". Iceland’s a place where last names are like this, though I don’t know about pros and cons of it in that context. It’s called a patronymic.

Ah and I have a bittersweet spotify playlist about her and Chil too, here if ya want. That’s it the post is over

[ellie-r2]

Book Curtis Brothers hcs

because I won't leave you guys hanging just because it got second place

Darry:

-He'll do anything for his brothers even if he hates the thing. (first scene in the book when Pony says he could've just called Darry to watch the movie even though Darry hates them)

-He tries really hard to be gentle when physically comforting people but he's always too rough without meaning to be.

-Genuinely believed Ponyboy hated him for a good while and it would actually keep him up at night at times which added to his stress levels.

-Always makes sure the house is stocked up with first aid supplies for the boys.

-He asks Soda to talk to Pony for him to make sure Pony knows he loves him because he thinks if he were to do it he'd just say the wrong thing and it would go bad.

-The five days Pony was gone were the worst of Darry's life even more so than the death of his parents because to him at least then he got the news the same day but for Ponyboy he had nothing letting him know if he truly was okay.

-Says he would've been okay if Ponyboy never spoke to him again after the slap because he would've deserved it but in reality he wouldn't know how to live with it.

-Hated when people would confuse him for being his dad's brother instead of son because he hated that people thought he looked older when he's only 20. (which doesn't get better now that he's taking care of his brothers)

-Technically this is canon but adding it anyway he is insecure about the fact he didn't get to go to college because he did want a chance to leave tulsa and pursue a career in football.

-Stays by Pony's door until he falls asleep whenever he wakes up screaming from a nightmare to ease his nerves.

-Only irons Soda's shirts because he knows even if Soda has time he won't do it himself.

-When Ponyboy was in denial of Johnny's death he and Soda made sure no one ever mentioned anything about Johnny around Pony.

-He asked Tim to have Curly tell Ponyboy stories about reformatory to scare him from being sent there.

-Used to consider wanting to reconcile with Paul so he'd still have other friends outside the gang. After the rumble happened he stopped thinking about it.

-Apart from his brothers the person he's closest to in the gang is Two-Bit since they're closest in age and he's the only one he truly trusts to leave alone with Pony.

Soda:

-Used to hate being the only blond one of his brothers until his parents died because he liked having his mom's hair color.

-Ever since basically moving into Pony's room because of the nightmares he now uses his old room as a storage space or offers it to the gang if they want to sleep on a bed instead of the couch.

-Will defend his brothers to the ends of the earth over literally anyone no matter who it is (I mean according to Pony the only time he was ever mad at Steve was when he said something about Darry).

-Took everything in him not to tell Darry that he suspected that Dally knew where Pony and Johnny were and almost slipped by wanting to ask him to proofread the letter.

-Slept in his room the days Pony was gone because it didn't feel right to him to sleep in there without Pony but he still didn't sleep well anyway.

-Plays football with Darry even if he's not the best at it just so Darry can still play his favorite sport.

-Contrary to popular belief while he is named the the crier of the brothers it is actually Ponyboy but he lets himself be called that because he knows Pony doesn't like being seen as "weak".

-Even though Sandy cheated on him and everything he couldn't find it in himself to hate her not even a little bit.

-Despite what Pony may think about comparing Soda and Steve to Bob and Randy, Soda would actually be the one to fight even harder and be angry if Steve were the one to die while Steve would be the one to not fight.

-Will gives massages to Darry when Darry works long nights at work because while his brother won't admit it, he doesn't take care of himself as much as he should.

-Misses the days when Darry was just his brother and not guardian because while he gets let off more than Pony the change in relationship between himself and Darry is still noticeable to him.

-Will cling to anything or anyone that is near him when sleeping.

Ponyboy:

-Is quite literally the little brother of the gang even though he thinks it's Johnny. (Everyone including Steve will drop everything for him).

-(pre book but after their parents died) Desperately craved attention/affection from Darry but didn't know how to ask for it.

-He has drawn every member of the gang + Curly but hasn't shown them any of the drawings. His favorite to draw was Dally.

-For the purly/papercut fans (me). Pony is the only one who can keep Curly from getting into too much trouble. (Like we know from Tim that Curly has talked about Pony and even calls him a good kid.)

-After Johnny and Dally's deaths he hangs up his drawings of them in his room. He also keeps Dally's jacket in his room even if he never wears it.

-Tried to finish reading Gone with the Wind after Johnny died but couldn't.

-Has nightmares of him being the one who was stuck under the beam instead of Johnny and being the one who died and wakes up terrified because he truly thinks it would have been better if it was him.

-Makes Darry go into the room with him at doctor's appointments and looks at Darry whenever they ask him a question. He'll also clutch Darry or Soda's arm because he hates being there.

-Quit smoking or is in the process of trying to quit post book because of guilt of potentially starting the fire and because it's not good for him being on the track team and all.

For all 3:

-Darry and Soda go to ALL of Pony's track events.

-Post book they all try to have one day of the week where they all do something together for the other. For Darry, Pony and Soda play football with him. For Pony, they go watch a movie together. For Soda, Darry lets him take them out racing but sits in the back with Pony to keep him safe if anything.

-When they were younger Darry would give shit to anyone who would say anything about his younger brothers having weird names. While Pony and Soda would give Darry shit saying he's the one with a weird name. "seriously DARREL"

-They all sleep in Darry's room together the night before if they know the social worker is coming in fear of separated.

[chronicbeans]

Queerplatonic Alastor x Reader Headcanons

Hehe my plan of writing headcanons for various Aroace-spec identity Alastor headcanons has begun. This one is with a cupioromantic and asexual Alastor in mind. I haven't seen enough of them, and as they say! "If you want it done right, you gotta do it yourself."

TW: Frustrations regarding romantic identity, complete unawareness of certain LGBTQ+ topics (my man's from the 1920's, he's almost completely in the dark), slight yandere behavior? (I feel he's just obsessive by default, regardless of the relationship type)

• So, this man has never necessarily identified himself with any sort of LGBTQ+ labels. Back in his day, there weren't any terms to use for being asexual or aromantic. At least, not any that he knew of. He's always been comfortable with his sexuality, though! His main thought process was always "I'll probably find someone that I'm attracted to at some point, and if I don't, that's alright." That thought process has also followed him down to Hell, and stayed the same for all these years.

• However... Whilst he's very comfortable with his sexuality... His romantic feelings are very complicated, now. He's always desired to have one, and he's very confused as to why he hasn't felt any romantic attraction, yet. It makes sense that someone who wants a romantic relationship to be able to feel romantic attraction, yes? He's very much in the dark to the complexities of how these things really work, mostly due to him being from the 1920s-30s. He's caught up on slang and technology, but he hasn't bothered to keep up with sexualities and romantic identities, as he doesn't think about them much.

• So, does he ask any more modern demons and sinners for help? Ha! No. He's too prideful, and simply assumes that there probably isn't much of a difference in knowledge on romantic attraction as compared to his day. Yes, he's aware that there's way more identities for sexualities. People talk about them often, and he hears terms thrown around here and there as he walks through Hell. He never hears anything in regards to romance, though. It's simply not talked about as often, from his experience. So, he's completely in the dark. If anything, he's probably completely unaware that there are identities for romantic attraction.

• He does what he can to cope. This whole situation is very frustrating for him. However, at the same time, he thinks that it shouldn't be so frustrating. So, it's embarrassing to him, and he doesn't tell anyone about it. Instead, he does what he believes everyone who is single and ready to mingle does: reading romance novels. More specifically, he flips to parts where said attraction is described, or little scenarios that he wants is going on. Restaurant dates, walking through the park, dancing, holding hands and cuddling. Those sorts of things! Things nobody would ever expect someone as unhinged as him would want...

• The most frustrating part, however, is that he feels he should already be feeling such an attraction to you. You, being his most close friend. You're the one he trusts with certain secrets, one of the few people he doesn't mind touching him unprompted (besides, say, Niffty), and probably the only person he lets his smile down around. Though, he rarely does so, as he doesn't want to worry you. Unlike Niffty, who he sees as having a more familial feeling towards, he sees you as a close friend. His closest friend, but just a close friend, which frustrates him to no end.

• It takes him a long time to even think of mentioning it to someone. However, when he does, he'd feel too awkward to bring it up to you. So, he decides to speak to Charlie about it! After all, she has one of the more "modern" relationships. So, she probably also knows something about whatever is going on with him! And after the long and grueling process of talking to her? He comes out even more frustrated than before. Being unable to feel romantic attraction, but still want romance? Cupioromantic? It is all so confusing. However, he won't question it. He's clearly out of his zone, and he was horribly wrong when assuming the world of romance hadn't progressed...

• You, however, are his most trusted friend. His closest friend. So, he decides to waste no time in deciding to propose an idea to you. He's heard of these things called "queerplatonic relationships", and his understanding is that they are like friendships, but with some more traditionally romantic interactions involved. Which, whilst his understanding of the nature of queerplatonic relationships may be a bit off, he's trying his best. Once you explain it a bit further, emphasizing that they're closer relationships than friendships, but not romantic and can vary widely in affectionate interactions, he is immediately is set on trying to start one with you. Luckily, though, you agree rather quickly.

• Despite him wanting many of your interactions and ways of showing affection to be more traditionally romantic, such as cuddling or going out on friendly dates, he won't cross any boundaries. Both because you're his closest, most prized relationship with another person, and because he can't think of many other people who would even be willing to enter such a relationship with him if he ever asked. Not that he'd want to ask anyone else. There's a reason why he immediately went to you. It's hard for him to describe it, though. Despite being a man of words, whenever he tries to explain why he feels like you are the perfect person for him to enter this queerplatonic relationship with, he stumbles heavily.

• His little ideal for this relationship is, essentially, the types of things he's read in the romance novels he has. Sure, a little bit of a twisted version of it, but at it's core it's the same. He wants to cuddle in a nice, safe, and warm room (while there's probably the screams of an extermination going on the background). He wants to go to restaurants (this man's a cannibal so check your food). He wants to do the cheesy move of handing you red roses and candy as a gift (do not ask how he was able to buy such an expensive brand, or where the two large, heavy trash bags came from or what they are filled with).

• He's going to be very, VERY protective of you. Almost, if not completely to an obsessive degree. He knows how Hell is. People want power, and he's powerful, and you are close to him. He's sure many people are going to go after you, in order to get to him. So, your little relationship is going to be as well protected of a secret as it can be, at first, until he believes he can properly protect you from any danger. And after the secret is out, he's going to be right by your side the entire time. Literally. Whenever he can be, he's next to you. Nobody, except maybe Vox or another pesky overlord, is going to try to hurt you as long as he is there. Even then, he could completely destroy them, anyways!

[oofthwoods]

'23 grid ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: an overview of fem!driver relationship with a few drivers on the grid. just a bunch of cute headcanons that i can't get out of my head. i only added the ones i feel she would be closest with, but feel free to ask me about any other driver!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: recommend reading the introduction for the backstory.

˒ ⌕ — MICK SCHUMACHER ( 47 )

more than mere teammates, mick and her have been glued to the hip ever since they met. with both of their parents being ex-formula one drivers for the same team, it was clear from the very start that they would see each other very often. as kids, wondering around the paddock, as teens, supporting each other on the track and now, as young adults, competing against each other on porsche and f1.

while mick is a sweet, introverted guy who tends to think about every word that leaves his miuth, she is the complete opposite — loud, bashful and someone who should have a bigger filter between your brain and mouth. is the epitome of orange cat × golden retriever, and fans eat it up.

while mick sometimes can calm her, it's more likely that she brings him into her shenanigans.

˒ ⌕ — MAX VERSTAPPEN ( 33 )

her and max couldn't have a more different upbringing. while he was roughly shaped into a champion by his father, she had been carefully brought into the motorsport world by yours.

they've met during her years as a red bull junior, and what started with max being a bit annoyed by her non-stop talking quickly turned into an honest friendship, where they both can say whatever they want.

it leads to max saying the most unhinged things and her being the only one who jokes along instead of feeling concerned.

˒ ⌕ — LEWIS HAMILTON ( 44 )

probably one of the cutest driver pairings in the grid. fans love to dig out old picture from the two and compare to it now.

lewis has always had a soft spot for her, ever since she was a kid roaming around in the paddock. he would show her his car, explaining all the things to her and claiming that his team was better than whatever team her dad was on.

once she came back to the paddock, now as a driver, he took one look at her and immediately took her under his wing. they both are, in their own ways, alone within the rest of the grid and he wouldn't let the media, or anyone for what matters, dim her light.

on the daily, he is always checking up on her, not in a overbearing fatherly way, but more as an older brother figure.

during her first months he managed to convince the media outlets to pair them both together for every interview, and he was always quick to shut down any stupid question sent her way.

if she annoys him for long enough, she manages to make him agree to coordinate his outfits with her.

˒ ⌕ — FERNANDO ALONSO ( 14 )

similar to lewis, she met alonso when she was very young. although he had a bad reputation during that time, she always loved to hang out with him, because she loved how cool he looked every time he won a race.

it took him some time to warm up to her, as he was never that great with kids when he was younger, but when she gifted him a drawing she had made of him winning a race, he was done for. yes, he was still seen as some sort of villain, but everyone agreed that he looked more human when she was on him arms.

he would grab her from her father's garage (with his permission, of course) and would take her to his, always waiting with her favorite flavor of pizza. it became a tradition for the both of them to eat it before a race, being his or hers.

whenever he could, he would watch her races from her garage, proudly wearing team merchandise with her name on it. when she won her f2 championship, he made sure to stand closely to the podium, and he would deny it, but he cried a bit when she raised her trophy.

such a cute duo because he tries to keep up with the things she likes, but still doesn't fully understand everything, so one day he would randomly say that her outfits is slaying and would leave with a polite smile while she stands there, confused, wondering where the hell did he learn that.

still tries to continue their pizza traditions <3

˒ ⌕ — LANDO NORRIS ( 04 )

they both barely knew each other before her debut in f1, but somehow clicked instantly. it might be because of their self depreciated tendencies, or their constant sarcasm. who knows? the only thing that matters is that when a reporter asks a stupid question, they can communicate with a single glance.

lando tries to get her intro photography but gives up once she couldn't fully understand how to correctly operate a camera. claims that she is a pretty good model to make up for it <3

somehow they know everything about everyone. it's a mix of lando knowing the drivers very well, and her knowing a lot of the mechanics of different teams. whenever something happens in the paddock, they both definitely know.

˒ ⌕ — GEORGE RUSSELL ( 63 )

met simply because she thought his pose was so funny that she had to ask him if he thought about it previously or decided to just wing it during filming. he was slightly confused that she seemed so friendly after they had just net, but quickly understood that was simply how she acted.

the most meme worthy duo. with his perfect timed actions and her dynamic facial expressions, their faces are always seen together plastered on twitter.

the butt of most of her jokes. she constantly sends him tiktoks and he claims that he is tired of it, but always sees each one and gives a little commentary.

if lewis is her caring older brother, george is her annoying one.

˒ ⌕ — OSCAR PIASTRI ( 81 )

the two of them have a long running joke because they don't know when they met. they've never competed against each other, as he was always one year above in the series, and never raced for the same team, but somehow, they feel like you've always been friends.

(they once actually sat down to try and trace back to their first meeting, but only got as far as to a gala in 2020, but they both remember already being friends during that.)

people thought they would never see them interact because of their distinct personalities and were very surprised when she pulled him into a hug after their race in bahrain.

always bantering and joking, oscar likes that she understand his sense of humor and don't take it too seriously.

˒ ⌕ — ALEX ALBON ( 23 )

met solely because she felt the need to tell him how pretty his girlfriend was. he was very confused but appreciated the compliment (even though it wasn't dedicated to him).

after that he kept getting drawn by her straight to the point comments, always failing to conceal his laughter after she says something, either during debriefing or interviews.

she pretty much became his and lily's daughter. they take her out to eat after races, lily tries to teach her how to golf and alex convinces her to die her hair if she scores at least 10 ponths.