#he’s way more than a friend; but that label doesn’t break the partners boundary

[wowieeitsisa]

Qpr friend is being romantic towards me again gotta smash his feelings or something

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty Two | Another Medium (Part 2 of 4)

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"Hurry, ren. We're gonna be late!"

You smile down at Frisk and watch as they tug at the edge of your shirt to try pulling you along with them.

The door's left open, and even though those meant to pick you up for the event aren't here yet, they still urge you to go outside and wait.

"It's only seven, honey." Your thoughts drift back to your video call and Sans's most recent text message, letting you know half an hour later that he'd be here soon. "We've got a few minutes left." You grab their hand and put a stop to their energy, facing their eyes. "Are you that excited about starting school?"

They nod and grin wide. "Even more, if you're gonna be working there, too!"

Your smile falls as you remember the folder Sans had given you. It had been thrown into the farthest corner of your bookshelf that same day, and you'd been too reluctant to look at it any more ever since. You didn't want to take their kindness and help for granted, just as much as you didn't want to forget about your reasons for learning more about monsters. Your godmother was right in terms of you needing to understand them more, so you've established it upon yourself to bring that up during your first, official date night with the skeleton. Understanding the changes being made to the Underground could aid you with the slim chance of finding a way to either halt or delay it from becoming a big tourist attraction, and you could finally be more clear and upfront about your feelings related to the dream -- even if all of that was easier said than done. Not only had you crossed far too many boundaries with him already, but you were still keeping your dubious relationship with him, all while continuing to be wary of him and everyone else for their past. The subtle but no less irate light to his gaze when having your aunt bring up the the Judgement Hall had been more than sufficient for you to try something -- or at least, assist him and every other monster with that process.

In short, hypocrisy's absorbing you bit by bit, and today's your very first attempt at trying to break free from that. Whether you succeed or not doesn't matter. Giving it a shot, on the contrary, does. Even the slightest amount of closure achieved with your research could help in setting your thoughts straight, and -- perhaps -- to finally stop yourself from comparing monsterkind with Jerry.

To put it this way: you couldn't allow yourself one thing if you were allowing the other to continue happening.

After all, why were you willing to engage in a relationship with someone like Sans, when you were still far from forgiving and much less forgetting Jerry over abandoning Frisk for so many years?

Why were you willing to befriend someone like Alphys, who'd been close to ending up in jail due to the failed experiments made on those of her own kind?

Why were you willing to book a night at Mettaton's hotel, knowing he'd once set Frisk into danger greater than any other monster you knew had -- Undyne being a close second?

Even someone like Papyrus brought harm to them once!

"Ren," Frisk calls out, tugging your hand. "You look angry. Are... Are you okay?"

You nod and let out a breath, composing yourself. "I'm fine, honey."

"Are you still thinking about avenging me?"

Your eyes shoot wide open at that, and you can't avoid suspecting they might have the capability of reading your mind.

Regardless of their word choice, you were -- in a sense -- wanting to avenge them from anyone who'd once caused them harm, be it Jerry, the monsters, or the loud and nosy neighbour from next door wondering why Frisk enjoyed playing with action figures just as much as they did playing with princesses.

"Ren!"

Hearing their whine of concern, you snap out of it and look down to see they've let go of your hand, both their arms now outstretched and in wait for your embrace.

"Do you want a hug?"

Your smile returns at that, albeit a bit more melancholic compared to the first time. You get down to their height and pull them in for a hug, sighing when you have them safe in your hold; it feels right to have them close and in your care, no matter how much your mind insists otherwise. The question you brought up back at the Judgement Hall still feels like the most subconscious part of your mind had possessed you, insisting you turn back to how you used to be after Frisk's fall.

"You don't need to protect me that much!" they say, letting go. "I... I know all the monsters well, so I'd tell you if any one of them's bugging me. You don't need to hate them for my sake, and you don't have to compare them to dad, either." Without a doubt, if humans still had the capability of using magic and spells, you would label them a mind reader. "You should get to know them on your own first, and not just based on who they are to me. Because if that's really all up to me, then the only one I don't really like much is..."

At that, they stop; they bring a finger to their chin and tap it twice, delving deep in their thoughts along the way.

"Huh..." Frisk taps their chin again and their gaze turns furrowed, scrunching up the more they think about it. "I mean, I don't really know if I dislike any of them... I just know I wanna have friends!"

You're compelled -- if not, urged -- to argue against that, though your heart stops you from spilling any of those thoughts out. Still, your mind attempts to push through it. Personal feelings couldn't cloud your judgement, if that meant it could bring harm to your child.

"Even if they-"

Hearing the engine rumbling as Papyrus parks close by the sidewalk is a blessing in and of itself; the aforementioned date night with his brother can't get here any sooner. You need to sort your thoughts out once and for all. Almost half a year of waltzing with the seemingly never-ending issue of Frisk's journey and the bonds they made through it was far too much. If you were slowly making friends with those same people too, then you needed to stop this at once. No matter how much you wanted to avoid said confrontation, that had to be done -- for both CPS and reasons beyond.

"You're right." You huff, bring a hand to your forehead, and go lower to massage the brim of your nose. Not a moment after, you fix your glasses, look back to their side, and form a smile. "Thank you, dear."

• • •

You close your eyes just before the monster presses a damp cotton ball to your wound.

Isopropyl makes it sting immediately, yet you're too busy with your thoughts to care about it that much.

"You okay?" Sans asks, meeting your eyes when you open them. "You've been quiet since we got 'ere."

"I'm okay, but..." You think back to how you greeted him with a wave, right as you did with his brother. While the monster before you didn't seem to mind it, you can't avoid the thought of how you used to be with Jerry. It was easier to be more affectionate back then, and it was easier still greeting him with a kiss -- be it a simple one on the cheek or a quick one on the lips. Now, you can't so much as imagine the prospect of doing that with your new partner without overthinking or feeling stressed about it. "I was wondering if we... if we should maybe keep our relationship private -- f- for now?"

He finishes wrapping the bandages and fixes them tight before replying with, "That's fine with me. Did you watch the video?"

"No, I'm..." You grow short of breath at the thought of how many people have likely seen it by now -- how many times it's been shared, and how many more discussions and heated arguments have revolved around it. "I'm too scared to."

You can't bring yourself to look at him any longer, so his expression falls unknown as he suggests watching it together, a question you answer to with a quiet and mumbled 'sure'.

Sans proceeds with a nod and stores all the items used back into the first aid kit before taking out his phone, settling down in bed, and holding your hand with his free one. "Really sure?" he asks, squeezing it once. You reply with an even quieter 'yes' and watch in silence as he clicks on the link sent by what you assume is several people, based on how Undyne, Brenda, and even the man from the train station -- now his friend and your co-worker -- have messaged him the same information, all three left unread. The one he chooses is farther back and dated with yesterday, this one sent by Jerry.

It plays in an instant and the first thing to appear is Asgore's garden, while murmurs are what compose the audio as the one filming shows himself around a field of trampled flowers, these now a mess of broken pots, thrashed earth, and missing rocks. A few others make him company and engage in small talk, though it ends quickly when one of them shouts for everyone to 'get over here quick'. The group does as told, leading for the cameraman to rush along with them out of the garden and into the Judgement Hall. The audio grows quiet as he ventures further, steps and voices now discreet as he films a fuzzy image of two people sitting at one of the benches laid around, with the exception that one sits on top and has their arms wrapped firm and tight around the other. Multiple people urge the cameraman to approach the scene more, making him show you and Sans kissing, albeit of a blurry quality with how much he has to zoom in so as to not be caught. Even the noise is recorded with how silent everything else is, this one mostly composed of hitched breaths and clothing shuffling against each other as you hug him closer. Thankfully, no kissing noises are recorded, something you assume is due to him having a shapeable skull rather than lips, along with how slow and careful your actions are.

The video ends when the kiss does, and it leaves you in the same silence created right before clicking on it.

Regardless, Sans opens up the page it was posted on to reveal more information about the creator.

'Am I the only one who sees something wrong with this stuff? This is the future that awaits us, if we continue to act as if we can live peacefully with these people. Opposing these changes is necessary, if we wish to keep our normalcy. Casual make outs with a being so far from human shouldn't be the norm of our world', reads the caption.

Below, some of the replies read from ones saying the poster isn't the only one who shares those thoughts, to ones who've taken the time to write an entire paragraph about the situation.

'🤢🤮'

'Absolutely not.'

'No, you're not. This is outright hideous.'

'Click here to see my 👄 HOT 🔥 noods 🍝: www.uhohspaghettios.xd'

'Wow, this is just like 1984.'

'Next thing you know, we'll be the ones living in the Underground.'

'I need eye bleach ASAP!!! 😱'

'Yeah, no. Hard pass on whatever the hell I just watched. Why did you even film this?'

'That skeleman is nothing but a closeted cradle-robber. Anyone who's met (Y/N) knows how naïve and childish they are, and them dating someone like that screams bad news. Forget that he's a monster, people! What's more important here's how he's got a liking for them despite that gap -- both mentally AND physically. He should be ashamed for bringing their reputation even further down with this video. At this point, I have trouble believing they'll ever recover from all this.'

'...Ok, but...... Am I the only one who finds this kinda.................. Hot? 👀💦'

'Of course, even a monster would try to have his way with someone like them. Look at how they're dressed!'

'To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand how wrong this stuff is. The degeneracy infesting the Surface nowadays is extremely subtle, and without a solid knowledge of social sciences, most of the immorality will go over a typical person's head. There's also the skeleton's nihilistic outlook, which is deftly woven into his characterisation -- his personal philosophy draws heavily from George Orwell literature, for instance. People like us understand this stuff; we have the intellectual capacity to truly appreciate the depths of these social rejects, to realise that they're not just ridiculous -- they say something deep about LIFE and SOCIETY. As a consequence, people who see nothing wrong with this truly ARE idiots -- of course they wouldn't appreciate, for instance, the humour in the skeleton's existential catchphrase "Genocide is wrong", which itself is a cryptic reference to Er*n Yeag*r from Att*ck on Tit*n. I'm smirking right now, just imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as our fight against this backwards evolution unfolds itself on their phone screens. What fools... How I pity anyone who disagrees with you and tries to defend this behaviour. 😂'

At the bottom of it all, a neglected comment reads:

'Not only are you and your companions trespassing in an unsafe location, but your recording shows clear evidence you were damaging former King Asgore Dreemurr's property. You have also chosen to film these people without their knowledge despite them being in a private area, and uploaded the footage to a massive social media platform, as well. This is punishable by law, and I will not hesitate to stand for these people, if they decide to file a lawsuit against you.'

What stands out the most goes beyond the commenter's name, as his profile picture is what captures your attention first, regardless of how well-dressed he appears in the image and how small it is without clicking on it. Sans seems to share the same thought as you, as he clicks on the man's account without thinking twice. It takes some time to load, but when it does, your mouth gapes and you find yourself at a complete loss for words.

'Gerardo "Jerry" Gonzalez Gutierrez del Valle. Family practice lawyer since 20XX. Co-founder of the first Alcohol and Smoking Helpline for monsters. Former quarterback for Ebott U's Football League,' his bio reads.

You're overcome by what feels like an hour of silence before you can process what you've read. The age-old experience of reviewing material from your textbook at three thirty in the morning arrives when you try to read through his profile a second time, then a third. Even his pictures are difficult to process, these a variety of him posing with his co-workers at the newly-opened helpline building, screenshots of his progress with quitting alcohol and his strike of days and months sober, images of him in different suits, and -- last but not least -- a couple of Throwback Thursdays from his glory days, featuring both high school and college memories. It's hard to decide which feeling out of multiple is stronger than the rest, as jealousy combines with the slightest thing you expect out of this discovery: being reminded of the good ol' days. Guilt arrives next when growing aware of your current relationship with the one sitting next to you, even if it's only the thought of how happy you used to be with the man in those pictures before everything went haywire.

"You're... You're seeing this too, right?"

You hear him chuckle and see him agree with a nod, though you can't exactly fall back down to Earth again; were this a dream, you would accept it as such.

"Yeah." The monster looks you over once before adding, "And am I imagining it, or did I catch you smilin' at 'im just now?" He winks.

"So you're telling me you're really not surprised by this, at all?"

"...Touché."

You stand up and give your back to him, irked by his assumption despite him being nothing close to serious about it. "But, please don't think I still like him." Your hands turn into fists at the thought of going back with someone like him, no matter his current intentions. "I still haven't forgiven him, and I still..." Bile rises to your throat as your stomach churns wildly. "I still hate him." Then, you take a pause to gather strength. "And maybe that's a strong word, b- but... It's hard for me to forget that's the same man who once accused me for every little thing that wasn't 'normal' with Frisk, from them running away the first time, to them refusing to call him dad -- even when I never prevented them from visiting him, and e- even when he stopped visiting them first." Your chest shakes as you huff. "I... I still dislike him, and I really hate that I remembered good things about him just now."

Your mouth refuses to shut up and makes you continue on with, "So if I still can't forgive him, how can I make a decision for CPS with so many of you and in so short of a time? I still can't decide what to do, no... no matter how much I've learnt about everyone else." Your throat turns dry, and you find it difficult to swallow. "Hell, it was only yesterday I finally gave into one of my doubts. I thought it twice before asking if you wanted to kiss, but it'd been in my mind for a long while before that."

"You're sayin' the kiss was you decidin' to trust me?"

"Yes."

He scoots closer to your side and furrows his gaze.

"Even after that dream, and even though I started it?"

"Y... Yes." You do the same as him and smile. "I trust you, and... And I know the dream's likely just me overthinking this. One thing's spilling the truth when you're drunk, and one thing's getting... too caught up in your fears -- to the point where you have these warped dreams about someone else, no matter how much they mean to you."

His irises soften in their light, and a hint of culpability seems to fall on him. "Then I'm sorry for bringin' your ex into this." You sit back down with him and hold his hand again. "It wasn't right."

"It's okay."

"Doesn't look that way."

Before you know it, you're held by your lower back, pulled close, and brought down in bed.

He stays on top, gaze focused on yours rather than on your lips or anywhere else suggesting something more.

"Have you found that help yet? Counseling, I mean." His gaze remains the same despite having changed topics so abruptly. "How're ya doin', puddin'?"

"Bubbles and Brenda suggested two recently, but I... I still haven't gotten around to calling either one of them."

"Want me to make you company while you try that now? We've got time."

"...Kiss me first, please?"

He lowers more and presses his teeth to your neck.

"Gladly."

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[pau-neko-chan]

Small details that make me ship karumana

Various fans have already contributed supplementary materials as fuel for the karumana ship but I’m here to talk about more minute details of their individual characters that make me believe in a supportive and refreshing relationship that can develop between these two. I plan to discuss details ranging from the start-up ship fuel from the main series to the supplementary material hints in order to  provide a more psychological perspective in their compatibility.

Anime: S1 Ep 8 - Karma expresses interest in Okuda when the boys in class asked him who he likes.

The foundations of this ship

Many may claim that their interactions in the series aren’t enough to support a ship but if you look into supplementary material and analyze their individual characters beyond the obvious spotlight ship in the series, you can see how much Matsui Yusei teases fans with karumana ship fuel. According to Okuda’s character profile, she’s someone that the ever-alert Karma has allowed to get close. While in Karma’s character profile, Okuda is said to be the girl he can talk to about anything and his cautious heart and distant nature faded away around her. They’re cited to be the most easy-going boy-girl relationship in the class. In a translated character relationship chart from the official fanbook, Matsui confirms that these two like each other for how comfortable they are with each other, Karma finds her to be the easiest person of the opposite sex to talk to, Okuda feels relaxed around Karma in general, and Karma thinks Okuda is cute.

With these foundational details in mind and by reading beyond what the series gives us, here are a few points that make me believe in Karma and Okuda’s chemistry.

Okuda is not spineless

While she appears to be helpless and shy, she can stand her ground on what she believes in. Much like others in 3-E, she is her own character and doesn’t exist to be that token straight ship for Karma. During the class civil war, she chose the “save” team because she believes that if science can destroy, it can also save.

Anime: S2 Ep 17; Manga: Ch 144 - Okuda chooses the Blue team to save Koro-sensei

They could have easily put her in Karma’s team because of friendship and loyalty but the choice to “kill” would simply be against Okuda’s caring and harmless nature, one of the main traits why Karma is so comfortable around her. Later into the game, Isogai and Maehara talk about who they think would win and Okuda yells out that she wants Karma to win, despite being in the “save” team. This shows her own resolve and ability to separate her personal principles from her relationship with Karma.

Manga: Ch 147 - Okuda states why she wants Karma to win

It’s not that she wants Koro-sensei to die, it's that she understood what killing Koro-sensei means for Karma. She, of all people, knew the hard work Karma put on behind the scenes. When others simply dismiss Karma’s achievements as “genius,” she (and Koro-sensei) knew that Karma works hard, no matter how much he tries to hide that side of him to the world. This comes with his resolve that he is not the best and he has to put in effort if he wants to be the most capable in reaching his goal. Okuda sees all that. Given the choice, Okuda would rather save Koro-sensei, yet if things don’t go her way, she trusts that Karma earned the chance to fulfill his goal. This duality illustrates that whether the class decides to save or kill, she can accept it wholeheartedly. She wouldn’t have regrets because she gave it her best shot from a decision she made herself.

Anime: S2 Ep 1 - Karma hides evidence of him studying hard on the last day of summer break

In relationships, it’s important to have set boundaries for what you share with your partner and the things that make you, you. Okuda’s character exemplifies this well as she is not shown to be a side character that follows Karma around, she’s a friend whom Karma can share his vulnerabilities with while being able to keep her individuality intact. While she is known to be lacking in the ability to communicate, in the end, she’s able to say what’s on her mind when it matters—without any filters. She is brave and strong in her own way and has the capability to provide a new perspective—a trait that can stimulate Karma’s intellect. I believe this would blend well in their relationship because Karma seems to be the type who would get bored hanging out with someone who can’t keep up with him. This shows that their relationship can be an equal exchange of support and trust rather than one being subservient or wary of the other.

Additionally, her pure honesty and lack of fear for Karma is a perfect example of how she can stand up on her own. Everyone is afraid of Karma to some extent which makes them avoid him, possibly right according to how Karma likes to push people away with his behavior. Having someone whose basic nature is to not get swept away by the norm, to be able to choose for herself in how she views Karma, and to be overall honest with her intents really paves the way for a mutual trusting relationship.

Anime: S1 Ep 8 - The girls in class find Karma attractive but scary but Okuda disagrees.

What I find interesting in Okuda’s lack of fear for Karma is that she says this even after seeing him directly start a fight with delinquents the day before. This is episode 8, 3 episodes after her debut in episode 5. Assuming that Karma only started approaching her after learning about her poison-making skills, that’s quite a short period to get to know Karma—a known violent delinquent and the most skilled fighter in class—and to claim that he is “not that scary.” This implies that by this time, they have started to get to know each other better, Karma probably treats her well, and that they’ve interacted enough off-screen to arrive at the conclusion that he is not scary. Much like how Karma’s interest in her comes from her chemistry skills rather than her looks, this girl knows Karma is more than his external features and she can speak her mind even though it’s contrary to the public opinion.

Karma’s character development

Manga: Ch 19 - The boys ask Karma who he’s interested in among the girls in class

From the key scene that fueled this ship, many may claim that Karma is just using her for personal gain. I personally believe this argument is made by people who stopped understanding character growth at season 1 or simply cannot grasp at all that humans change over time. As with a lot of relationships, the interest in other people has to start somewhere. For Karma, the interest starts here with the maturity level of a 15 year-old prankster. Being one of the main characters, Karma goes through character development in the way he views the world, himself, and the people surrounding him. He changes a lot in a span of one year so it wouldn’t be impossible to believe that his interest in Okuda grows beyond having a convenient drug dealer.

One common trait that makes Karma comfortable around people like Nagisa and Okuda is that they are seemingly harmless to him. The statement and intent sounds problematic as a standalone but it’s important to point out how Karma uses this information in his relationships. A typical toxic psychopath would prey on their harmlessness to bully them into taking advantage of them. Karma’s comfort hanging around harmless friends stems more from their inability to hurt him rather than his capability to hurt them. Although Karma is labeled as a violent delinquent, he isn’t a low-level scum-type delinquent that starts a fight for the sake of fighting. As far as I can remember, all cases of Karma’s problematic delinquent behavior is fighting with strangers who provoked him first or he was actually trying to defend someone weaker. His friendship with Nagisa started with a common interest and he was comfortable until he felt threatened by Nagisa’s dormant skill for assassination. Not once did he try to take advantage of Nagisa’s pacifist nature for his personal gains. The same applies for his friendship with Okuda—she piqued his interests with her chemistry skills, he learns that she is harmless and comfortable to be with, and a genuine friendship evolves from there. His interest in her skills may be mischievous but he never showed any aggression or intent to take advantage of Okuda. Neither did he force or threaten her to do those for her. She even wrote that she was able to experience challenging experiments because of his requests in her yearbook message to Karma, something that sounds like she actually enjoyed the fruit of his mischievous intents.

Anime: S1 Ep 8 - Karma tells why he’s interested in Okuda

For those who believe that this scene is a weak foundation for liking someone, well, at that point, Karma hasn’t really developed a romantic type of interest in her. As mentioned, this is how his interest in her begins, not the sole reason for him to be attracted to her. Playing around, making mischief happen, sharing fun times is something that develops friendships. A good friendship is the solid foundation for a comfortable romantic relationship later on. Character development is a real thing and these two won’t have the brain of mischievous middle-schoolers for the rest of their lives.

Anime: S2 Ep 6 - The Witch and The Knight used chloroform to save the day

Karma can feel at ease with Okuda

During the Test of Courage, Karma and Okuda were paired up which gave them time alone to talk about something that’s been bothering Karma. As we all know, Karma never shows his vulnerabilities to anyone at this point in time, not even around classmates who are known to get along with him. Koro-sensei had to earn it by looking out for him and it took time for him to warm up yet even then, he wouldn’t be caught casually sharing something as personal as his fear. The exception is Okuda. The series never explicitly shows how Okuda earned that trust but this scene paints something unusual in Karma’s well-guarded nature. It’s not impossible that they’ve shared enough moments off-screen—moments valuable enough for Okuda to earn Karma’s trust halfway through the school year. To note, it appears that Okuda never even initiated asking Karma what’s bothering him and yet, Karma simply shared what’s on his mind to her.

Anime: S2 Ep 1 - Karma talks about his fear to Okuda during the Test of Courage

We don’t actually see this kind of vulnerability display around friends that Karma spent a lot of fun times with on-screen such as Nakamura and Terasaka. During the civil war, Nakamura notices something unusual in Karma, as if something is bothering him but Karma immediately brushes it off and shows his usual face excusing it as having just woken up. Karma and Nakamura have been shown to get along well as fellow pranksters, possibly with more lines in scenes together than Okuda and Karma ever had in the entire series, yet for some reason, this friendship hasn’t reached the point where Karma can at least give a hint of what’s bothering him when he’s alone with Nakamura even after she asks him about his thoughts.

Manga: Ch 144 - Nakamura notices something unusual about Karma at the start of the class civil war

As for Terasaka, he seems to have earned a teasingly trusting friendship with Karma. Terasaka gives his trust in being manipulated by Karma’s wits and Karma seems to show acknowledgement for how this pseudo-Takaoka has grown. Yet the most Karma would show around him is a vague suggestion that he would like to see him in the real world again someday as colleagues. Perhaps this is simply how men communicate with each other but I guess with everything they’ve experienced, Karma acknowledges some sort of friendship with Terasaka, but not enough for him to expound or eloquently communicate why he would like to see Terasaka as a politician when he himself becomes a bureaucrat. Karma’s unsolicited suggestion for Terasaka hints at his vision for his future and how he sees someone like Terasaka in it but his language doesn’t scratch the surface of intimate vulnerability as it did around Okuda in the test of courage.

Anime: S2 Ep 9 - Karma tells Terasaka to become a politician after career counseling with Koro-sensei

Throughout the series, we see Karma come out of his small world and slowly connecting and caring for his classmates. He gets along quite well with them and appreciates their company and how this class allows him to be himself. All this is temporary as they will go their separate ways once they graduate. In addition, Karma also appears to be the type to value the quality friendships he has built. This would imply that in order to maintain a bond with him after graduation, Karma would have to actively show an interest in connecting with them. In the case of Okuda, he seems to be interested in her enough to look forward to spending more time with her after graduation, as shown in his yearbook message to her stating that his year was made more fun with her around and that he’s looking forward for more.

It seems in each relationship he has, there exists an aspect that makes one distinct from the others. The existence of shared interests and getting along, a sense of comfort and security without fear of being betrayed, the willingness to extend effort in seeing them again, and the extent of being able to express in detail his vulnerabilities and deeper musings seem to be some distinct factors that make up Karma’s quality relationships. While each notable friendship satisfies at least one or two categories, none of them have all four except Okuda. The presence of all these qualities in his relationship with Okuda makes her stand out and have the potential to grow from good mischievous friends to lifetime supportive partners.

In the case of battle compatibility, Okuda may be far from giving Karma direct assistance in the battlefield. However, there’s an angle I wish to discuss that makes me think of how it translates to their compatibility. One scene that oddly stood out for me was during their encounter with delinquents in their Kyoto trip. The delinquents attacked, leaving the boys unconscious, subsequently kidnapping Kayano and Kanzaki. Okuda managed to slip away and hide leaving her to check on the boys when the environment became safe.

Anime: S1 Ep 7 - Okuda reappears apologizing for hiding when the delinquents attacked.

What made this scene interesting is that Okuda could have been kidnapped along with Kayano and Kanzaki and the result would have been the same. The boys could have read the trip manual and called Koro-sensei. Sure enough, Koro-sensei could single-handedly save them once they got to the hideout. It didn’t matter whether one, two, or three unarmed girls got kidnapped. So why paint this scene with her being able to slip away without the delinquents getting a chance to grab her?

My interpretation for this small detail is that Karma doesn’t always have to worry about Okuda. Karma gets into a lot of fights. Even in his future career as a bureaucrat, he will surely get into dangerous situations involving politicians. He has always been the type to be on guard 24/7. Even back when he was comfortable around Nagisa who he believed to be harmless and a good friend, he couldn’t let his guard down. Imagine the stress that burdens his shoulders having to keep his guard up for himself and having to extend that to another person. Wouldn’t that be too much for him to sustain in the long run?

Anime: S2 Ep 18 - The feeling Karma got when Nagisa sneakily poked his back while looking for him in WcDonalds

Anime: S2 Ep 18 - Karma and Nagisa hanging out in the middle of their second year

For someone without exemplary combat abilities like Okuda, slipping away to safety is a smart move. Even at that moment, Karma acknowledged that she did the right thing. Of course we know this is not the type of running away in order to abandon a comrade. I believe it’s safe to claim that nobody in 3-E would truly go that route. What Okuda did was wise and if the scenario were a little different, slipping away could have given her the chance to send support, prepare weapons, and an overall better fighting chance than just standing there frozen or getting herself kidnapped. She slipped away using quick thinking and if you think about it, it takes skill to sneak away unnoticed when both ends of a narrow ally are surrounded by big, menacing delinquents. Her ability to act wisely by herself can definitely be a load off Karma’s chest knowing that the people he cares for can take care of themselves should he be rendered unable to protect them.

Additionally, Okuda’s nature is the type that Karma can trust to be capable enough to protect herself without feeling that she’s a threat to him, something rare among his relationships with other friends. This detail is small and subtle but it hints her potential supportive and reassuring dynamic with Karma wherein Okuda can safely lend background assistance without worrying a combat-ready Karma. As Karma mentions back at her later in the series, running away is also a battle strategy. Whether he learned this technique from Okuda or not is a mystery but I like to think that towards the end of the series and almost a year of trust and friendship, some of Okuda’s traits and mindsets have rubbed off on Karma enough for him to adopt it in his strategies.

Anime: S2 Ep 23 - Karma grabs Okuda’s wrist to get away from danger

For someone as cocky as Karma, being able to pull off a humble-yet-wise move is something noteworthy. This humility could be the mixed influence of Koro-sensei’s care and Okuda’s nature. Not only does Okuda provide a load off his shoulders, she is also capable of bringing new perspectives in solving problems for Karma.

In a long-term relationship, Karma deserves to feel at ease. Whether as a friend or a life partner, he deserves someone he can trust not just in opening up, but also at times when he’s vulnerable. For me, this is something that his dynamic with Okuda can provide. She may not be the best to fight alongside others in the frontline but she can provide background support so Karma can be guaranteed that he is not alone in a fight and he will not be coming home to a lonely place after a fight.

From being an approachable friend that he gets along with to a partner he can trust and be vulnerable around, all these seem to point at a special connection Karma feels around Okuda—enough for her to be just the right support he needs while being able to treat her right. Okuda may not talk or stand out much but Karma seems to see traits in her that make him gravitate towards her with ease. She doesn’t stand out in the general crowd but she stands out for Karma, where her traits are appreciated. 

____________________

Notes: I have the tendency to lean towards the less popular ships in Anime (such as Yukihira Souma x Tadakoro Megumi in Shokugeki no Souma) over the obvious ships in the spotlight. I believe it has something to do with my inclination to more mature and supportive relationships that appeal to people in their 20s rather than hormone-induced pairings that sound like high school flings targeted for 14 year old girls. To note, I was at that age once but once you hit your 20s, you realize that some ships are more problematic than you remember. This is my second time watching AC (first time was in 2016) and I honestly don’t recall shipping them back then. I don’t even recall picking up on karumana hints before. But now after rewatching it in my 20s, I find it quite intriguing how I find this couple so cute, while knowing that I’ve grown out of my shoujo manga days. These days, I don’t have tolerance for shoujo-esque ships that are practically “it’s not sexual harassment if he’s hot.” Looking back, a lot of shoujo mangas/anime were like that in my teenage years. While Karma started out with high Marty Stu potential like shoujo main boys, AC developed its characters well such that their characters and future career paths were more realistic—something you come to appreciate as someone who has already gone through their own 7-year timeskip.

[halfbloodglader]

And Yet (Minho)

Minho x ACE! reader -1,700 words

because we love a best friendo Minho :)

The rain had started and in no time soon was it going to disappear. Every single one of the Gladers was quick to fight against time and pack up any last bits of their work before they became saturated. Minho, however, rest quite contently with his legs up in his hammock. He’d been back from the maze for a while now having decided to turn back around noon after seeing clouds building overhead. Chuckling to himself, he leaned back and put his arms behind his head, letting his mind slip off to whatever dimension it pleased. 

Today, that just happened to be his running partner. That seemed to be a pretty common topic for his brain to latch onto as of lately. Anytime he had the slightest moment of silence, she filled his mind and there was no way of shaking it. Minho was fairly self-aware and knew it wasn’t because he was infatuated or in love with his best friend. His understanding of their relationship didn’t stop the invasive thoughts, though. As of late, he’d just been blaming it on the fact that he spent most of every day with her and he cared deeply for his friend. 

If you cared enough about someone, of course they’d be on your mind all the time.

“Where’s Y/N?” Newt broke Minho’s daydream like a glacier shifting, his face far too close and the overgrown mop of blonde hair shrouding his eyes. “It’s almost dinner, go find her would you?”

Minho recoiled when Newt smacked his shoulder impatiently. The runner scowled and sat himself up with a huff. “Ah, I guess I could do that. How much you gonna pay me?”

Still frustrated, Newt kicked Minho’s feet which now hung out from his hammock. “Nothing, Minho! She’s your friend too and I’ve got other things to deal with right now!” He threw his arms up in the direction of the homestead, the doorway crammed with boys trying to escape the sudden deluge. 

“Sheesh, apparently not even time for a joke.” Minho chuckled and stood up, patting Newt’s shoulder. “Don’t worry man, I’ll find her.”

“Good, get your lazy butt out of here!” Newt, for some reason, yet again tried to kick at Minho as he jogged off. 

As quickly as he could, Minho darted for the deadheads in order to take cover under the trees. It really was a no-brainer surrounding the case of the missing Y/N. She’d be in the maproom. She was a runner, liked quiet places where she could be alone and was possibly even more invested than Minho in finding a way out. 

Somedays, Minho felt sorry for her. She was the only girl here. Even though she did just find holding her own and got on well with everyone, she was still stuck in a stone box with fifty boys. It couldn’t be easy. There truly was no question as to what factors might have played into her becoming a runner. 

Other days, he was so glad she was here and was the only girl. No matter what, her opinion was valued above anyone else's. Frankly, she always had the best ideas, too. She cared for everyone and was the ears ready to receive at a moments notice when someone needed a place to mail their worries off to. In no way would this place be the same if she wasn’t here. And of all the girls in the world, she was probably the best of them all to be placed here the Glade. One, because she was very easygoing and had the attitude of one of the boys. Secondly, she had never shown interest in anyone here and had no problem kindly declining romantic advances. 

Just as he expected, opening up the maproom door, there was Y/N, half reclined against the wall. Some papers in her hands and feet every so slowly sliding away from her body on the loose-dirt floor. Quietly, Minho approached without her noticing and put his foot out to stop her feet from sliding anymore. Noticing the sudden halt of her feet, she lowered the papers and looked up to see Minho with a classic smirk carved deep into his face. 

“Newt send you?” Y/N asked, shifting her position so she was sitting up against the wall straighter, disregarding the papers. 

Minho tilt his head in question and sat across from her on the floor. “Yeah…how’d you know?”

Y/N stifled a little laugh and rolled her eyes. “He comes looking for me everyday before dinner. He must be busy with this storm though.”

“Oh my god, he’s busy alright.” Minho complained. “He kicked me, twice!”

“Wow!” Y/N gasped very animatedly, as if pretending to be shocked. “Two kicks? He must be super stressed!”

Minho broke into laughter and so did Y/N. They sat gasping for breath for a little while before finally collecting themselves and standing up. 

“So,” Minho went and opened the door. “Want to head back to the homestead and grab some dinner?”

“Yeah, sure.” Y/N agreed, putting on her shoes and bracing herself for the cold rain. She cheerily smiled up at Minho as she scrunched her shoulders up, ready to be hit with the cold.

“It’s not too bad,” Minho pushed Y/N out of the door haphazardly and followed behind her. “Especially if you run!” He blew past the girl, breaking into a sprint.

Minho hardly beat her there. 

“Finally,” Newt grumbled as he ushered the pair into the homestead and hurried to shut the door, preventing as much rain from pelting in as possible. “I thought you two got swept away in a flood or something as equally ridiculous.”

“Now that would have been interesting,” Minho nodded in amusement, pursing his lips and then looking to Y/N and trying to not break out in laughter. Newt was sure in a mood today.

“Go get your bloody dinners and head off to bed.” Newt ordered. “Because the sooner you do, the sooner I can get to bed. And I swear, if you two cause a ruckus I’ll—“

“We got it, Newt.” Y/N assured. “I’ll make sure Minho doesn’t burn the place down.”

“Good that.” He thanked the girl and let out a sigh of relief as he walked off. 

Snickering, Y/N and Minho got their meals and ate with a few of the other boys. After a while of talking, everyone decided it was time to pack it in and so Y/N and Minho said their goodnights before heading upstairs to his room. Many, many nights had the pair spent in here on rainy nights just sitting on the floor, talking about anything and everything. 

Just as usual, they situated themselves on the floor, staring out the window, talking about whatever first popped into their heads. Nights like these, they didn’t talk about the maze. When storms rolled in, it was their time to forget the world and all of their heavy burdens. It was their time to be the young people they truly were. 

After endless questions and horrible topics of discussion, Minho felt the allure of sleep enticing him. However, there had been one untouched topic that had been weighing on his mind for the past few hours. Granted, he’d been curious about it for a long time, but he’d never been itching this bad to actually find out.

“Okay, you don’t have to answer this question, and I might be stepping over some major boundaries here.” Minho suddenly seemed much more awake. “But…”

“Minho, it’s fine.” Y/N assured.

The keeper of the runners felt his confidence wavering. “I guess I’m confused about…well, I’ve never been able to understand…Understand why you aren’t with anyone. As in…”

"I know what you mean,” She stopped him before he had to further embarrass himself trying to find the right words to explain what he was thinking.

“There’s so many people here who would be with you in the blink of an eye given the chance. There’s no shortage of people who like you.” He said sternly, trying to catch her eyes in the dim light. “And yet…? You choose to be alone?”

Y/N was silent. Minho feared he’d hurt her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought this up—“ Panicked, he tried to trace his steps back.

Y/N then shrugged and spoke softly. “I’m not alone though, I have all of you. I choose to not be with anyone like that because I don’t feel the need to. I don’t want to. It just isn’t an interest to me. As far as I can remember, it never has been.”

In the dark room, only slightly illuminated by the sheet lighting outside, Minho reached out and threw his arms over the shoulders of his friend. Y/N’s arms fell under his and she rest her head in the crook of his neck. They embraced one another tightly. Minho squeezed so hard his arms began to seize and Y/N felt how much he cared right deep in her chest. She cared just as much back.

Love came in so many different forms, especially here in the Glade. One could be more than happy and have a life full of intimacy without needing to fall into a relationship like most people expected. Some types of love didn’t need a label or to be explained. They simply had to be felt.

Minho did love her, in a way. And, now, he figured she loved him back just as well. 

“Thank you for being such a good friend, Minho.” The girl gave Minho one last tight embrace before letting go. 

Minho left his hands on her shoulders as she sat across from him. He smiled. “Thank you for being the best running partner I’ve ever had.” 

Y/N looked shocked, but in a playful way. “You…did you just say something nice?”

“Aye!” He snapped. “You caught me in a tender moment! It’s between us! Only us!”

[lambourngb]

So the sun rose again today (or it will, I didn’t sleep much after 3 am, forgive my incoherence).

I’m still trying to come to terms with the direction of the show. I’m still picking through my feelings, trying to come up with something other than feeling like the rug got pulled out from under me.

12 hours later I still feel a bit betrayed but I’m starting to blame myself now for not seeing it coming.

It started last June when Vlamis did that interview and labeled the Malex relationship as “toxic” and Maria as “fresh and new” basically. We all remember that firestorm right? I rejected that idea so hard. There’s no way that this relationship, which had lasted an intense decade after a homophobic attack, three tours, a lost leg, a government conspiracy and all the bullshit of Roswell was “toxic”. I thought, Vlamis needed to use more care in his words and I dismissed it.

Later on in October, Tyler said the same thing. He called the Malex relationship “toxic” and he said it during the filming of elements of 2x05 and 2x06. There was less outcry when Tyler said it, we were all focused on the fact he said Alex was still actively in love with Michael and the mention of a new love interest in the form “a guy with blue hair”. Again though, I rejected the idea. I was never all in on Forrest, especially because he was going to be a 3-4 episode flash in the pan, so what’s the point of getting invested? I hate jealousy subplots. I wanted Alex happy and openly dating, but I wanted it with Michael, damnit.

Through all of it, I never saw Malex as toxic, until yesterday and now it’s all I can see. 

I’m not going to get into the consent question- scrubbed audio and subtitles and all- other people have said it, and how you feel about it is valid. (Also Carina sharing a draft of a scene, not the actually shooting script was ... a choice). Anyway I watched the scene on repeat this morning close to 20 times. What I kept going back to was the scene outside the trailer.

Alex is in the light. He sees Michael in the light.

“Maria still asleep?”

Michael, with that awkward look back to the trailer, kinda half nods. [How did they all fit on that tiny bed? That awkward look back made me wonder if Michael spent the evening split between making Maria feel attended to and but trying not to telegraph that too clearly to Alex? Though bringing Alex coffee was a nice touch.]

Alex though is powering through the awkwardness. “I really never thought I’d check that off my bucket list.”

Michael is very sober and serious because he’s seen Alex do this power-thru-with-banter when he’s off-guard (”I’m fine, Guerin, thank you for asking/ Good thing I’m not here to play beer pong”) - “You think we crossed a line?”

“Well, I mean if you’d told me I was going to have a threesome with my best friend and my first love, I would say which circle of hell am I in?”

[Here I don’t understand Michael’s little disbelieving laugh, is he following Alex’s lead in trying to make this a joke? Release the tension?] “That’s hell?”

Alex gets pensive, dropping the banter, and he licks his lips in thought, “I don’t know, I felt um...” [does a tiny little head shake of negation] “I felt...”

Michael looks away because it seems like he’s a little sad that Alex can’t come up with the words for what happened. He finishes Alex’s thought with “Loved.”

NOW HERE IS WHERE I CAN’T UNSEE THE TOXIC LABEL.  Alex takes that word “loved”, and he compares it to what happened, and he’s both skeptical but also self-deprecating, when he says, “Yeah.”

That acknowledgment was not a good thing. It was not a happy thought. Because love made Alex do something he never thought he would do. How he feels about Michael is so overwhelming, so all-consuming, good sense and self-preservation just flies out the window. And it’s TOXIC. Alex realizes in that moment he needs to move on from Michael because Alex feels like the sex between them DIDN’T CROSS LINES and IT SHOULD HAVE.

Boundaries man. I was somewhat glad Michael set some early on in season 2, I thought it was healthy and put them on more of an even footing. Now it’s Alex’s turn to figure out boundaries with a romantic partner, and he’s learned he doesn’t have any with Michael and that’s not healthy for Alex.

On a flip side, I think Michael was motivated by that same all-consuming, throw good sense out the window, LOVE as well, but what really breaks my malex-shipping heart, was Maria motivated it. He’s going where she wants him to go. All those healthy boundaries he set in 2x01 and 2x02 with Alex-- are gone with Maria in 2x06. So I kinda feel like the toxic label belongs here too.

It leaves me in a place where I don’t really have hope for the pairing, and I want hope. I want to have an open mind here. I don’t want to let go of my hyperfixation but I don’t see a way out for them. I also feel like I can’t trust my judgment, because I feel like I tricked myself into believing that Michael and Alex can be good for each other.

Fucking toxic man.

[eeveevie]

Salvation is a Last Minute Business (5/18)

Chapter 5: Do It Simply

Nick and Madelyn have a heart-to-heart while on a stakeout in Quincy. After some time apart, Deacon shows up at Madelyn’s apartment encouraging her to give the Railroad another chance. When she agrees, Desdemona sends them to a Bunker Hill contact who needs assistance in smuggling somebody out of the Commonwealth—somebody who may have been witness to Eddie Winter’s crimes. Outside of the Ticonderoga safehouse, a suspicious man catches Deacon’s eye and the entire operation goes up in flames.

“If you're going to kill someone, do it simply.” - Johnnie Aysgarth as played by Cary Grant (Suspicion, 1941)

x - x

[read on Ao3] ~  [chapter masterpost]

February 11th, 1958

“I should’ve warned you this would turn into a stakeout.”

Madelyn shivered as she glanced over to Nick from the passenger seat of his Cadillac, tugging the collar of her coat around her shoulders a little tighter. Of all the times they had decided to follow Eddie Winter across town, it had to be the night when a flurry had delivered nearly three inches of snow. Needless to say, she was freezing, half tempted to bum one of Nick’s cigarettes if only to heat up her body in some way. The smoke from his own wafted in the air above his head as he mumbled incoherently, binoculars glued toward the building a few hundred feet away. They’d been sitting like that for a few hours with no movement.

“Damn Winter, thinking we have all night to sit on him,” he muttered, cigarette bobbing between his lips.

“It’s not like we have much else going for us,” Madelyn replied, sifting through the small stack of case files across her lap, ones she had brought with them in their mad dash to Quincy. Ever since the Earl Sterling case, their primary focus had been on Eddie Winter’s activities, mostly because the agency hadn’t received a new job in weeks. There had been dry spells before, but this time it was obvious they were being punished by the Boston Police Department for their involvement in capturing Doctor Crocker. It wasn’t fair, it never was, but there was little they could do but keep investigating.

“Don’t remind me,” Nick grumbled, lowering the binoculars to look at her. “Are we sure this is the right place?”

She hummed, flicking through the various files. They were all labeled in her neat handwriting—WINTER—filled with various leads and rumors from the street, one of which had led them to the Quincy police department. With a nod, Madelyn flashed a sideways smile. “Maybe they’ve got a secret underground bunker.”

Nick wasn’t about to dismiss anything, eyebrow quirking up. “You might be onto something there.”

She softly chuckled, scribbling the words down, even if she felt foolish—not every organization in town had an underground tunnel system, right? As Nick continued to scope out the building, she flicked through her notebook absentmindedly until a loose-leaf of paper fluttered down to her feet. She had nearly forgotten about it, the instructions Drummer Boy had dropped off nearly two weeks ago, directing her to another meeting with the Railroad. Her conscious reprimanded her for making up an excuse for not attending, but at the time, she wasn’t ready to face the group again.

She hadn’t seen Desdemona—or Deacon—since their little adventure beneath Slocum’s Joe. Foolishly, she believed that space would set her mind straight, that her emotions would level out after introspection and some time alone. What she hadn’t realized was that her life had already been drastically altered: Nick believed the Railroad to be a valuable ally, she had an agent for a neighbor, and despite everything, she couldn’t get that stupid, silly, enigmatic man named Deacon out of her mind.

“Another mysterious note?”

“What?” Madelyn snapped her eyes up and over to where Nick was looking back to her with all the curiosity in the world. She couldn’t lie to him, not when it was his job to find the truth. “More or less of the same, requesting me to visit their headquarters beneath the church again. It’s…outdated though. I didn’t go.”

“You have been spending a lot more time at the agency,” he mentioned, stubbing out his smoke in the tiny metal tray of the Cadillac’s center console. “You ready to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head?”

“Don’t flatter me, Nick,” she playfully chastised, before shifting as her legs became restless. “We don’t have to cut the Railroad out as a point of contact, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He didn’t say anything, but the detective always had a certain look about him, a glimmer to his eyes when he knew there was more to the story being told. She sighed, staring back down at the typewritten note and continued. “I just…needed some time.”

Nick took a moment, glancing out the window to confirm that there had yet to be any movement on the building they were watching. Only then did he divert his full attention to her.

“I’ve been meaning to apologize,” he paused, waving his hand in protest when she went to interject. What did he have to say sorry for? “I overstepped some boundaries a few weeks ago, insinuated something I shouldn’t’ve between you and that Deacon fellow.”

Madelyn wasn’t upset with Nick, but hearing his words was somewhat comforting. Though, she was sure she would’ve been in her head about the situation regardless of the lighthearted teasing from her partner and his fiancé. She should be the one apologizing—for dragging her feet, for being distracted, for being stuck in the past. Nick wasn’t the only one she owed that to, but she didn’t dwell on that thought.

“My only hope is that one day, not tomorrow or even this year,” Nick said, treading lightly. “Is that you will be able to move on. It doesn’t have to be with the first handsome guy you meet that makes you smile, but you don’t deserve to live out the rest of your days alone. I don’t want to pretend to know what Nate would’ve wanted for you,” he hesitated, reaching over to place his hand over hers. The cold material of the prosthetic sent a shiver up her arm, but otherwise, his touch was comforting as always. “But this isn’t it.”

Madelyn knew that Nick was right—almost hated that he was. But she couldn’t be mad at his advice, or the mild-mannered way he delivered it. If she had been paying attention, he’d been gently nudging her towards this for months—the grieving counseling sessions, dinner parties, case work that had her interacting with all sorts of people. Her friend was doing the best he could to ensure she had all the opportunities to break out of the shell she had buried herself in for the past year, and for that she was grateful.

“I know,” she finally admitted, a truth that made her stomach uneasy. It was freeing, but the remorse still lingered. “Its tough Nick, to let people in. Not like before when I could trust everyone and anyone despite years of law school telling me otherwise,” she softly laughed, more to herself. “But now? I have my support group. I have my friends. To let anyone else in is dangerous, and to let anyone too close is foolish.”

She didn’t necessarily mean to think about a specific person—certainly not a certain Railroad agent who had stirred up these emotions within her in the first place—she tried to focus on the broader aspect of what Nick was stating.

“You’re right, but it’s so hard,” she steadied her breath so she wouldn’t break down in a fit of sobs like she had been doing so often in the last few weeks when she thought about her departed husband. Codsworth, her newly activated Mister Handy butler, wasn’t sure what to make of her outbursts. “I think of Nate, and the guilt is overbearing. It isn’t right—not when he’s dead, his killer still out there somewhere. I don’t get to move on like nothing happened.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Nick contended, calmly. He fidgeted, lighting up a new cigarette to calm his nerves, or perhaps get rid of the chill surrounding them from the snow outside the vehicle. “What I’m saying is that you should take one day at a time, just as you’ve been doing. Just—” he paused to exhale a small cloud of smoke, waving it away from her. “Be less afraid, especially when somebody dares to breach the walls around your heart.”

Madelyn let his words resonate with her and really settle in her mind. Ever since Nate’s death she had been taking life slowly, but at the cost of living a half-life. She wasn’t herself—hadn’t been for a long while—and even she knew it was well past a reasonable time to be wallowing in self-pity. Perhaps it would be okay to let her guard down, allow her personality to shine after months of fading to the background. She needed to do right by her husband’s memory and live—she couldn’t do that if she was constantly torturing herself. Finally, she nodded, signaling to her partner that she understood. More than that, she agreed.

“Speaking of the heart,” she deftly changed the subject, flashing a teasing grin. “Valentine’s Day is this Friday. Have any plans with Jenny?”

Nick smirked, anticipating nothing less from her. “If I didn’t have plans, it would be a disservice to the family name, don’t you think? Jenny would have me take her name at the registrar’s office.”

“Mr. Lands,” Madelyn snickered. “Lands’ Detective Agency,” she tested, imagining the flashing neon light that hung above the office door. “God Nick, we’re already suffering enough. We don’t need a name change to put a nail in the coffin.”

“Good thing I’ve got Friday in the bag then,” he smiled, without any indication he planned to indulge any details. “The future Mrs. Valentine won’t be disappointed.”

Rather than be jealous, she could only be happy for Nick and Jenny—two people that were so in love and so impeccably made for each other it was surprising they had waited so long to tie the knot. Madelyn was too close of a friend with both of them to feel anything but joy for their relationship, even when she had nobody to go home to after long nights on the job. Well, nobody except Dogmeat and Codsworth.

Maybe her time for happiness would come sooner, rather than later, if she allowed it.

“It’s late,” Nick spoke, interrupting her thoughts. He lifted the binoculars to take one last glance towards the Quincy police station, confirming there had been no further movement. “Time to call this a bust?”

Madelyn agreed. “Bust.” 

February 14th, 1958

Madelyn could hear Bobby Darin playing on the radio from the kitchen as she sat at her vanity that morning, smiling to herself as she listened to Codsworth rummaging around and yammering on while he conversed with Dogmeat in the kitchen. A year ago, she would’ve never assumed she would one day find this aspect of her life normal or comforting, but now, she couldn’t imagine her apartment without the robot butler or German Shepard.

After three weeks, she had finally adjusted to having Codsworth activated, the Mister Handy robot proving to be convenient in more ways than one. At first, it was alarming at how devoted he was to serve her—anticipating her every need and hovering over her every action. Madelyn was appreciative, but being the independent woman that she was, set some ground-rules for the robot to follow so she wouldn’t feel so crowded or coddled in her own home. With some semblance of a routine, she felt her life taking shape once again—even if it seemed more suited for a television sitcom starring Betty White.

She had just finished adjusting her curls when there was a knock at the door, the sound echoing through the hall to her bedroom. Codsworth’s chipper voice resonated from the front room after a few mysterious clanks of her pots and pans. “I shall see who is at the door, mum!”

For a fleeting moment, she figured it must be Nick, there for an early morning visit on his way to the agency. They would typically car-pool to the Fens district throughout the week but as she glanced to her flip calendar on the table, she realized her partner had more important obligations—Valentine’s Day. That’s when her mind switched over and began running through the rather short list of possible visitors who would be at her door before eight on a Friday morning. Piper would’ve called first. Jenny was with Nick. MacCready didn’t know where she lived, neither did Hancock—at least she hoped that was true. Drummer Boy would’ve slipped a note under the door. Madelyn groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose at the possibility it was Deacon.

“Miss Madelyn!” Codsworth sounded confused as he called for her and she was already standing, tightly securing the tie of her silken robe around her body for decency’s sake before striding down the hall towards the living room. The robot was hovering before her open front door. “This man claims to be the milkman, but I do believe we’ve already received our delivery for the week. Is this another alteration to the schedule?”

It was definitely Deacon.

She sighed, rolling her eyes as she approached to stand next to Codsworth, if only to confirm what she already suspected. Bright smile, black hair styled up and of course—it wouldn’t be Deacon without his darkened shades. At least the milkman costume was a nice touch. She had to admit that the effort the man went through for an act was impressive, if not amusing.

“I get the feeling you’ve been avoiding me, Charmer,” he frowned, though she could tell he was bluffing.

Madelyn glanced to her Mister Handy unit, who—if she had gotten any better at reading the machine—appeared bewildered. “Codsworth, honey, what did I say about opening the door to strange men?”

“Oh! Right!” he exclaimed, raising his arms in defense. He moved so the bulk of his frame blocked her from Deacon’s view. “Shall I stick ‘em mum?”

She couldn’t contain her laughter, snapping a hand to cover her mouth at the sight of Codsworth hovering threateningly before Deacon, dressed in all-white with an equally entertained expression. She stepped closer, resting a hand against the robot’s cold metal frame. “That won’t be necessary, dear. I was only joking.”

“Are you to say you know this…milkman?” Codsworth questioned, before spinning his arms frantically as he moved back into the apartment on his way towards the kitchen. “Will he be joining us for breakfast? I will need to prepare another plate!”

Before she could interject or protest, Deacon was crossing the threshold with a beaming grin. He was carrying a metal basket just as a real milk deliveryman would and she wondered where he had managed to find such a convincing getup. Instead of white bottles rattling inside there was a brown packaged box and a small bouquet of flowers wrapped in parchment. Madelyn sidestepped around him to the door and contemplated asking him politely to leave but decided against being rude. She owed him a face-to-face conversation after so many weeks of silence.

“A Mister Handy unit?” Deacon spoke before she could, turning to face her. “I guess everybody needs a three-eyed metal husband.”

Madelyn snickered, glancing over to where Codsworth was balancing several tasks at once—eggs over the stove, coffee on the pot and bread in the toaster—all the while humming along to whatever song was filtering through the nearby radio. “Remind me to look into the legalities of marrying artificial intelligence. He may be flighty, but he knows his way around the kitchen.”  

“You just haven’t had me cook you breakfast yet,” Deacon replied matter-of fact. He lifted the basket he carried, changing the subject before she could respond to his remark. “I come bearing gifts.”

She nodded towards the kitchen island, motioning for him to sit on one of the barstools while she circled to the other side. It was a calculated move, wanting to put as much space between them as possible for now. Deacon placed the box on the counter and nudged it towards her. “This is from Irma. Said she couldn’t believe you walked out last time without one.”

Madelyn opened the package to discover a freshly baked blueberry pie, the smell an instant trigger for her mind, sending her back to the brief visit within the Memory Den. At least that all but confirmed what she already suspected—that Irma worked for the Railroad in some capacity. Deacon tapped a few fingers against the empty plate set before him and she sighed before turning to rummage through a drawer for a pie-cutter. Facing away from him, she heard his small chuckle.

“That’s a delicate little number you’ve got on,” he commented. She wasn’t alarmed by his statement, almost expecting it—if anything, she was glad to hear the mirth in his tone as if their quickly formed dynamic hadn’t changed.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, watching as he poured two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice from the pitcher Codsworth had placed. “I wasn’t expecting a visitor.”

Deacon let out a low whistle. “Silk and lace says otherwise, Charmer.”

“Had to look nice for my metal husband on Valentine’s Day,” she joked, sliding up to Codsworth who was none-the-wiser. It was a shame the robot had a difficult time processing sarcasm. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

“Mum, I do hope you aren’t planning on spoiling breakfast by eating that pie,” he responded, ruining her act. The Handy unit returned to preparing their morning meal, crisping the bacon on the griddle pan. Dogmeat whined as he circled around the kitchen island, stopping to sniff at Deacon’s feet. He regarded the dog with a smile before lifting the second item from the metal basket, handing the flowers to her and swapping for the pie cutter.

Madelyn examined the bunch of white daisies mixed with blue forget-me-nots, inhaling their sweet scent as she looked over at him. He was cutting slices, ignoring the way Codsworth was peering at him with one, zoomed in eye. The significance of the flowers wasn’t lost on her—forget-me-nots—it wasn’t entirely subtle, even for Deacon. She searched through her cabinets for a vase, delicately arranging the stems and petals as she poured some water inside.

“Irma insisted I couldn’t show up to your place empty handed, given the holiday,” he explained. “As you can imagine, all the flower shops from North End to Cambridge were out of roses.”

She had a difficult time determining if he was being sincere, or if he had really gone through the effort. For all she knew, he could’ve bummed the bouquet off some unsuspecting fella on the street corner. Madelyn decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, thinking that he had scoured all the floral shops along the Charles River just for her sake.

“I prefer these,” she replied with a soft smile. He regarded her with a softer expression, though she would’ve liked to know what his eyes looked like behind the sunglasses. Madelyn had resigned herself to the simple fact that she likely never would and would have to guess that they were trained on her—it certainly felt that way, with how her skin tickled with goosebumps.

“Good,” he replied, so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. Deacon poked at the slice of blueberry pie he had set on the plate before him with a fork, scooping up a generous bite. “One bite won’t hurt.”

It wasn’t until his arm started moving across the counter space that she realized what his intentions were, and she reflexively stepped back, bumping into Codsworth who was ready to serve their food. She scrambled to move out of the way, realizing the only place for her was the empty barstool next to Deacon. Reluctantly, she joined him on the other side, unable to ignore the way he was still holding the utensil out in offering with a ridiculous, expectant smile. Madelyn braced her nerves and reminded herself it could be another exercise in trust—a rather bizarre exercise—and leaned over the short distance, wrapping her lips around the fork to take the bite. To his credit, the blueberry pie was delicious and so was his momentarily shocked appearance—he hadn’t expected her to comply.

“Breakfast is served!” Codsworth interrupted their strange encounter with his announcement, metal arms whizzing around as he placed the steaming piles of food on the center counter.

The two served themselves, eating in a comfortable silence with the occasional sideways glance and shared smile. The robot continued to whirr as he floated around looking for a new task to attend to while Dogmeat successfully begged for bacon scraps at their feet. Madelyn quickly noticed how domestic the scene looked and felt, even with Deacon dressed up as some imposter milkman. Just like having the dog and the Mister Handy unit was abnormally normal, she felt a strange sense of calm with having the Railroad spy next to her. She wasn’t ready to confront what deeper emotions she possibly had whispering beneath the surface, but intuition told her it was time to stop running and let fate do its job.

“I’ll be honest,” she started, clearing her throat as she set her napkin down. “I may have been avoiding the Railroad.”

“So, it wasn’t just me?” Deacon teasingly asked. “Listen, I know our organization can be a handful, intimidating even. You haven’t even met the rest of the gang yet. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted out,” he paused, head turned towards her. “It’d be a damn shame though.”

“I participated in one job,” she replied. “If you could call me following you around underground in a sewer participation. How is that impressive in any way?”

“I’m easy that way,” he shrugged. “Dez calls the shots, not me. Even if I told her you were dead weight, which I wouldn’t dream of describing you as, she doesn’t seem ready to let you go so soon.”

Madelyn had to wonder just what Deacon had described her as to the Railroad leader. Probably something with too many adjectives while being overzealous and dramatic with hand-movements, if she had to guess. She focused on the important part—despite her radio silence, Desdemona wanted her to stay aboard.

“Is that why you’re here now?” she asked. “To check up on Agent Charmer? Bring me back into the fold?”

He waved a piece of crispy bacon at her, frowning. “Don’t sell my social calls so short. You won’t see me buying flowers for Drummer Boy.”

“Maybe he should invest in silk nightgowns,” she joked, snatching half the piece of meat from his hand.

He let out an airy chuckle while she chewed, eating the rest that he had before shaking his head. “Dez doesn’t know I’m here. She thinks I’m at Bunker Hill, working on setting up a meeting with one of our old contacts. I thought I’d see if my partner wanted to join in on the fun before I go.”

The fact he still considered her his partner after one Railroad outing was endearing. Madelyn still had her reservations, but she knew the organization deserved more than to be written off after one excursion. She softly laughed to herself. “What is with you guys and tourist traps?”

Deacon’s smile gradually increased. “What can I say? We’re a quirky, history loving bunch.”

“What’s the job this time?” she asked, curiously.

“Carrington asked me to find out if one our old Bunker Hill contacts, Old Man Stockton, was still in operation,” he began. “He was a big player back when we were moving people regularly in and out of the city. Now that we’re down on our luck, he’s gone back to his old line of work.”

“Under our current circumstances, we wouldn’t accept an escort job, but the Doc made it sound imperative the subject be moved as soon as possible,” Deacon explained further. “If Dez cleared it, then we’re in the green to proceed.”

Madelyn was astounded by the notion that they could and would help a person willingly disappear but figured an individual must be desperate to turn to an underground organization instead of vanishing on their own. She wanted to know more and the only way to do that was to go along with Deacon again.

“What do you say, Charmer?” he asked, one eyebrow arced high above his shades.

She nodded, flashing a tiny grin. “You’ve got yourself a partner, Deacon.”

He laughed, reaching over to clasp his hand on her shoulder as he brought her in for a quick, sideways hug. Madelyn was startled by the show of friendliness but didn’t express it, swiftly channeling her alarm into ease—she didn’t mind the warmth and feel of his hand on her at all—she actually liked it. He leaned away, fingers trailing across her back before withdrawing fully.

“You know,” he said in a sing-song way. “I noticed you don’t flinch away from physical contact. You aren’t shy. Unlike most people.”

“Most people are uncomfortable with the notion of physical touch, sure,” Madelyn agreed. It figured he had been studying her behavior. “I—I find it comforting.”

Deacon turned to her and she could feel his stare through the reflective shades. Heat spread through her chest the longer the silence stretched between them until his lips pulled up into a sideways smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

February 16th, 1958

On Sunday, Deacon returned to Madelyn’s apartment with a dead drop from Old Man Stockton, confirming the rendezvous point in which a face-to-face meeting would occur. They were to meet the Bunker Hill contact at the Cambridge Catholic Assembly church after dark, long after the parishioners had gone home for the day. The two had been sitting in the empty church for what felt like hours, occupying one of the last few pews while they waited for Stockton to arrive. Madelyn found herself distracted by the moonlight pouring in through the picture frame windows of the towering steeple, dumbfounded that once again she found herself in a place of worship. Just as she began reminiscing about Nate’s funeral service and the hymns the priest sung, she shut her eyes tight, blocking the memory from overpowering her thoughts.

Deacon’s gloved hand bumped against hers. “Charmer?”

“Tourist traps, churches,” she mused. “Why can’t it be amusement parks?”

“You don’t want to know who runs Nuka World,” he mumbled, fingers idly trailing along her wrist where her watch rested until she opened her eyes. “I didn’t expect it to take this long. If we’ve been had…”

“I hope not,” she replied, glancing down to confirm it was midnight. “At this rate, you’ll owe me breakfast.”

He grinned and nudged his shoulder against hers. “I did promise you I, didn’t I?”

The church’s front door squeaked open, interrupting the two from their banter and they stood to meet the approaching visitors. Two men, an older one dressed in a business suit and coat, the younger one dressed in shabbier denim with a winter jacket and cap. The older gentleman approached as the other stood back, looking anxious.

“Do you have a Geiger counter?” he asked, signaling the Railroad key phrase.

“Mine is in the shop,” Deacon replied in kind. “Stockton, good to see you. Carrington sends his regards.”

Stockton nodded, though he didn’t seem concerned with pleasantries as he observed their surroundings before gesturing to the younger man. “I won’t be long. This is Henry. Henry, these are the people I talked to you about,” he shifted towards the back window where a lantern was. “I’ll fire up the signal.”

Madelyn extended her arm to Henry. “Nice to meet you,” she offered politely. “You can call me…Charmer.”

The man nervously gripped her hand and shook it meekly. “Thank you.”

“Time for me to go,” Stockton stated, still scanning the church as if he was waiting for someone or something to jump out and discover them. “Keep Henry safe. Someone will be here shortly.”

He regarded Deacon with one last steely look before making a swift exit. Madelyn glanced to her partner in confusion, wondering if the Old Man’s departure was all part of the plan. He shrugged but didn’t appear nervous about the change—she’d never seen Deacon anything but calm and collected, anything to the contrary would be alarming. The three stood quietly, Henry continuing to keep his distance as the lantern burned in the window. At twelve-thirty, footsteps echoed outside the church, but the doors didn’t open right away. Madelyn and Deacon exchanged a quick glance and at the sound of more rustling, she withdrew her pistol from her handbag—she figured he might be carrying as well but insisted if either of them was going to brandish a weapon it was going to be the one with connections to the District Attorney’s office.

The two blocked Henry from sight as the large oak door finally creaked open and a figure shadowed by the night creeped in. Unable to determine if they were friend or foe, Madelyn trained her weapon, even if she wasn’t entirely convinced that she would be able to shoot. Upon noticing the group standing near the pews the intruder stopped dead in his tracks, raising his hands defensively.

“Don’t shoot!” he exclaimed before hesitantly taking a few steps closer. Under the dim lighting, she observed the man’s appearance closely—dark skin, warm brown eyes and a black hair shaved down to the stubble. Even though it was still blistering cold out, he seemed unbothered, wearing only jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather jacket with some laced-up Chucks. Even with a gun pointed at him, the man smiled. “Charmer, right?”

He flicked his gaze to her side but didn’t dare to move his arms. “And my man, Deacon. Still wearing sunglasses at night?”

Before her partner could react, she intervened. “Do you have a Geiger counter?”

“Right you are,” he responded, impressed. “Mine is in the shop. All good?”

Madelyn looked to Deacon who nodded, flashing a grin. “High Rise, it’s been a while.”

“Three months since I’ve seen your ugly mug,” High Rise laughed as they exchanged a firm but friendly handshake. He glanced over to Madelyn with cheeky smile as she made to place her pistol back into her purse. “So, this is Charmer? The one who helped with the Switchboard, while you sat on the sidelines.”

She shot a raised eyebrow in Deacon’s direction, but he only offered a sheepish shrug in return. She could only imagine the kind of fanatical stories he had been spreading about her while she had been away. High Rise continued, reaching his hand out to her. “Glad you joined the team.”

Madelyn reciprocated his handshake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Honor’s all mine,” he replied before tilting his head to get a better look at Henry who had hunkered down in one of the pews. “How’s our friend doing?”

With all the attention suddenly focused on him, Henry slouched further back into the wooden seat. Madelyn took a few cautious steps closer, not wanting to startle him any further. “Are you alright?”

“Mister Stockton…he said I shouldn’t talk too much,” he replied in a shaky voice, eyes darting between the group of people standing. She sat down next to him, deciding to take a softer approach.

“Would you like to tell me what brought you here?” she asked, carefully. At his silence, she nodded, encouraging him. “You can trust us, Henry. We’ll protect you.”

He still seemed skeptical—lips twisted to the side as he avoided looking at any of them. “I—I need to get as far away from Boston as possible,” he said, voice trembling. “I’m afraid for my life.”

“What’s got you so spooked?” Deacon questioned.

Henry shook his head, remaining tightlipped. “If I say, you’d be in danger too.”

“We’re already helping you get out of the city,” High Rise pointed out the flaw in Henry’s resistance. “Might as well double down and let us know of any potential threats coming our way.”

Another moment of silence passed as Henry contemplated answering, fidgeting in the church pew. Finally, he breathed out, looking to Madelyn like a safe haven. “I witnessed a murder. Not just any murder. Last month, I was working as a dockhand on the Harbor when I saw the car pull up—”

Madelyn started adding up the details in her head and interrupted, nearly blurting out the words. “Johnny Montrano Junior?”

Henry’s eyes widened in shock and realization. “Y—yes, how do you know?”

“Some of us have day jobs,” Deacon assured, raising his eyebrows at Madelyn, silently reminding her to reel it in. “Nothing to worry about, we’re still the good guys.”

She nodded in agreement, desperately hoping he would believe them and continue. Henry took a deep breath before resuming his story. “It was late, and I was the last to leave the warehouse but when I saw the men and the guns I ran and hid behind some crates.”

“What did you see?” Madelyn asked.

What she wouldn’t give to have a tape deck to record his statements—she wondered if she’d ever be able to compel him to speak again, if she could ever track him down after he disappeared. Even with Deacon and High Rise as bystanders, a court would likely dismiss it as hearsay unless they heard it directly from the witness himself—probably why Henry wanted to leave Boston in the first place.  

Henry shivered, eyes glossed over in memory. “Everything.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” High Rise spoke, signaling to the dwindling flame in the lantern. “But we shouldn’t hang around here. We can talk more once we get Henry to the safehouse.”

Madelyn’s wanted to argue but she instinctively knew that staying in the church wasn’t the safest choice. She stood, straightening the lines of her dark coat—Deacon had insisted she wear it so they could not only blend into the shadows but coordinate.

“Safe to assume Ticonderoga has been moved, right?” he asked, looking towards High Rise for the answer.

He nodded in answer. “If you drive, I can show you the way. It’s not far.”

Madelyn chose to sit in the backseat of Deacon’s Volkswagen with Henry, wanting to gleam more information about the night he witnessed Johnny Montrano’s murder. Deacon held the door open for her, closing it even though High Rise had yet to climb into the passenger seat and the two exchanged a laugh about it while she retrieved a notebook from her purse. The engine roared to life and slowly they drove away from the Cambridge church.  

“So, you having fun yet, Charmer?” High Rise’s lighthearted tone caught her off guard. Beside her, Henry shifted uncomfortably. “With Deacon, I mean. Of all the people Dez could’ve paired a rookie with, you got stuck with—”

“Excuse me,” Deacon interrupted, turning down a street when High Rise directed him to. “We already have a group codename. The Big Sleep.”

High Rise chuckled. “You’re no Bogart.”

“That’s what I thought,” Madelyn announced, suppressing her laughter at Deacon’s offended gasp. At the next stop sign, he took a moment to glance over his shoulder at her, eyebrows raised. To her surprise, even Henry seemed momentarily amused by the group’s antics.

“Maybe James Dean,” High Rise offered with a hum. “I’m being generous with your age. And if you take the fake pompadour wig into play.”

Deacon grumbled, turning towards the other man with his lips in a straight line. Madelyn thought she would’ve been more surprised, but considering who High Rise was talking about, the revelation wasn’t all the shocking. It also explained why curiously, his eyebrows appeared too fair in color and why his hats never sat straight upon his head. A spy had his secrets, she supposed. Noting the stretch of silence, High Rise shifted, turning as much as possible to face Madelyn.

“Deacon may be a terrible liar, but it pays to have him on your side,” he stated.

Madelyn wondered about that, glancing up at the rearview mirror to catch a glance of Deacon’s reflection. Her own face was mirrored back in the flicker of his shades as he offered a tiny smirk. In the short time she had known him, he had offered up plenty of little white lies—nothing extravagant or harmful—and was evasive enough that she still considered him one giant mystery. Nonetheless, she trusted him, and the stunning realization sent a shockwave through her system.

“Another right up here,” High Rise announced.

Before she had a chance to collect her thoughts, Deacon had pulled the car along the curbside outside a tall, unlit building. She looked to Henry and the notepad in her lap, sighing in resignation—she’d have to ask her questions inside just as it was recommended earlier—there would be time, even if it took all night. High Rise exited the vehicle first, delight in his voice as he pointed up at the skyscraper.

“Home sweet home,” he announced before turning back to lean against the roof, looking in at Deacon and Madelyn. “All in a night’s work for you agent types, huh?”

She smiled. “Just part of the service.”

“I think I’m going to like you even more than Glory,” High Rise responded, cheekily.

Deacon twisted his body, arm slung over the seat to face her and Henry and seemed poised to say something when the car was flooded with light from an advancing vehicle. It parked on the curb behind them and a few moments later, the headlamps went dark as the engine died. Immediately, Madelyn was on edge.

“We were followed,” Henry was quick to assume, scrambling to try and remove himself from the car.

Even though she had difficulty seeing through his glasses, she could tell Deacon had his eyes trained on the other vehicle and the person behind the wheel. From her angle, she couldn’t tell what the immediate danger was. In the quiet, they heard a car door open and close. Minutes passed before the echo of footsteps followed in the opposite direction of where they were. Instead of relief, Deacon tensed, his arm reaching out for her before waving towards High Rise.

“Get Charmer out of here.”

Madelyn didn’t have time to be afraid as High Rise hauled her out of the backseat with little decorum, encouraging her to run in the other direction as he rushed to help Henry. She ran as fast as her heels would allow through the soft blanket of snow, panic building in her chest at the fear of the unknown. For a split second she hesitated, looking back over her shoulder to see how much distance she had made when a faint click echoed across the quiet plaza. At the same time, Deacon was in front of her, his body meeting hers in a swift collision as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, toppling them both to the ground. They were propelled forward by a large explosion—though Madelyn wasn’t sure what had happened until she was flat on the icy gravel, her head pounding and ears ringing from the lingering sound.

Deacon was still perched over her, resting half his body weight atop her as he shielded her from the distant smoke and flames. Madelyn blinked hard, adjusting her vision before realizing that his sunglasses were askew. Even in the dark of night she could see the faintest hint of what was underneath, and her heart skipped a beat. Blue. With trembling hands, she reached up, pushing them back into place.

His lips twisted into a small, sideways smirk. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Reality sunk in as he rolled away, the two slowly leaning up to survey the damage. It was clear that the second vehicle had been planted with a bomb, set with a remote trigger and detonated by the mysterious driver. Deacon’s car was practically destroyed, and from where Madelyn was, she couldn’t see Henry or High Rise. But the devastation and intent was evident—they had been followed. The Railroad had been targeted again.

Ticonderoga Safehouse had just gone up in flames.

[leafallsonelines]

Bizarre Love Triangle

I'm not sure what this could mean I don't think you're what you seem I do admit to myself, that if I hurt someone else Then I'll never see just what we're meant to be  -New Order

I didn't want to get into a relationship.

He wore me down and soon enough I was the one crazy about him. I always answer to the undefinably strong pull toward a certain person. I was soul weary and needed a break from emotional turmoil. When you meet somebody else, they're the main character of their own love story (just like I am in mine; as it should be). I'm privy to fact that we all have a history, especially when dating in your late 20's and 30's. I wasn't ready for our stories to collide.

I desperately wanted to avoid cluttering my life with someone else's relationship baggage when I haven't even taken care of mine. He campaigned hard for the relationship. I went for it.

Despite my better judgment I always cave—give in to that desire — anticipate and absorb the pain that inevitably follows.

I told you that story to tell you this one.

Back in 2014 the term Cool Girl ™ was coined to describe women who change their personality for male approval. (The shtick is contrived and annoying once you spot it.) She doesn't have a solid sense of self and basks in attention to fill. That void; hoards men like Thanksgiving hams and gets territorial when she's not The Girl. She gets kicks from seeing how uncomfortable she can make other girls by openly flirting with their boyfriends just to watch them squirm. This act is so played out most people have an eye roll ready for anyone flying the “I'm not like other girls” banner. (Gen Z now calls them Pick-Me-Girls ™.)

I crossed paths with one in 2018 — my boyfriend's best friend of sixteen years. A self-indulgent, selfish friendship. I wasn't initially jealous, didn't interrupt, and it came back to bite me; it was hideously unfair.

For storytelling purposes let's call her “Kate Luu.” Kate, an incestuous tigermom who gets jealous of any girl her son gets with, a petulant toddler that would rather break a toy than let someone else play with it. Probably has BPD. Definitely needs a good therapist.

Like a lot of dewy eyed girls newly in love I conveniently dismissed the red flags around my boyfriend and Kate. I had empathy for them because of my past platonic friendships with flirty undertones. Guys would respectfully fall back when they got into relationships or if I Was in one. I struggled with the slow withdrawal of warmth, missed the emotional intimacy, but recognized it as the right call and moved on. A lot of young adults exploring their sexuality go through this. As I got older I favored female friendships for being uncomplicated, preferring to avoid unwanted sexual tension.

Empathy without boundaries is self-destruction.

A couple weeks after celebrating our one year anniversary Kate texts me, “We need to talk.” Alarms immediately go off in my head. The last few months I had started bringing attention to the bad vibe I was getting and the inappropriate nature of the relationship. I got tired of biting my tongue. He didn't know how to process it or correct it. His lingering infatuation with her made it impossible for him to distance himself or enforce new boundaries. He started hiding it instead. I caught him being intentionally ambiguous about his plans when going to see her. He fumbled himself into an emotional affair.

Princess Diana famously described her marriage to Charles as “crowded.” It was an unmistakable reference to his affair with Camilla. Looking back the (justifiable) anxiety I had was from being crowded. Intuition is not insecurity.

I met Kate for coffee and she read aloud a pathetic five page letter telling me I'm a bad girlfriend and “full of shit.” She was intervening on his behalf as the person who knows what's best for my boyfriend.

“It's none of your business.”

But no, she has the authority to interfere as his best friend of  sixteen years  and I was a  one year  nothing. She brought up the fact he was attracted to her first, told me I'm spineless and ruining their friendship with my insecurity. (She _really _ran with the words spineless and insecure.)

Accusations are confessions when they come from a manipulative person. Textbook projection. She was mad her narcissistic supply was tapering off. (Gaslighting Pro-tip: Label rightful jealousy as insecurity.)

My boyfriend gave her personal, intimate details of my life during their oversharings and she used that information to bully me. Nothing was off the table, including my sexual history. I can see how she manipulated him, but it was inexcusable. People who enable They leave the door open for endless rows of inappropriate behavior. All of this was happening behind my back for a year. That kind of intimate toxicity are suckers for ego massages.

Don't you just love a story where the villain puts all the evidence of her misdeeds in one letter and unravels into epic, illogical rage all in one afternoon, in the space of two hours?

How did Kate have time to write five pages of false narratives designed to destroy a relationship she was jealous of? She doesn't have a job. She's a pampered dog mom living in her rich fiancé's house for free. A busybody performatively taking care of other people to avoid a mountain of personal issues. (An unevolved Virgo.)

Don't worry about what I'm doing. Worry about why you're worried about what I'm doing.

Kate has many noticeable traits as an obnoxious, self-important person — an absolute fake. She calls herself a _philanthropist _without having done anything philanthropic or even knowing how to use the word; she literally saw a big SAT word that means good person and attached Herself to it. (A word assigned to big charitable donors like Bill Gates, not bloggers). She has the same relationship with the word “unconventional” and thinks using a bigger word for unique or quirky makes her even more unique and quirky. Nope, still basic.) In place of possessing any actual humor she repeats memorized dad jokes and leans into corny, forced puns. If this isn't annoying enough she then insists she's funny. (Funny people just make you laugh. They never have to tell people they're funny. Barfs in, “I speak fluent sarcasm.”)

If I poked a finger through her shallow veneer I'd find loose dirt and dog shit.

And you know what? I'm not even against intense friend love. I get it. I groove to “One Love.” Emotional freedom is important. Expressions of love are multitudinous. It should transform to fit the situation. She didn't respect basic boundaries to make room for all of us to be comfortable. She was just mad she got demoted and tried to burn the whole thing down.

Kate wanted to be the main character in my boyfriend's love story without ever actually dating him. Oh yes, I know — the audacity, the toxic lack of boundaries, the mind numbing arrogance. She's not even protagonist material — a papier-mâché hipster who got her personality from an Urban Outfitters catalog and can't stop contradicting herself despite the fact she is working off a pre-written letter. I have never encountered someone who thought so highly of herself while having almost no substance. She calls herself a writer , but is just a pseudo-intellectual English major who posts aesthetic word salad on Instagram.

Later on I realized that if someone is mean to you unprovoked it's jealousy. One of the catalysts for the meetup was a heartfelt anniversary post I wrote on Instagram. It's not my usual style, but I felt gushy and really went full blown poetic and swoony She's jealous that her own, brought up love and Birth of Venus, blah blah blah. She mentioned my IG post and even admitted it was poetic and well written, but proceeded to use that as the jumping off point to invalidate the love in it. writing is try-hard drivel; a woman in her thirties mentally stuck in 2011 tumblr cringe.

If she truly wanted him she should have pursued him honestly and not wait to mess with another person. Hell, even just owning up to her feelings and saying, “I realize I may have lost my chance with you. Is there still anything in our sixteen year history that makes you want to give us a shot instead? ”à la My Best Friend's Wedding. Treading some moral gray area, but way more acceptable than actively sabotaging a relationship.

She didn't really want him though. She just wanted to continue their friendship in that inappropriate flirtationship space to feed her ego. After the coffee date she ended their friendship in an email. That really important sixteen year friendship became disposable to her once she wasn't able to control it.

Sometimes trash does the public service of loudly identifying itself as trash and takes itself out.

If you're a female best “friend” to a guy in a relationship and you need to flex on “I was here first” and “We did this before you were in the picture,” then you were never interested in seeing that friend thrive in a romantic relationship. You just get off on being his favorite unfulfilled option. If seeing him in love with someone new has you feeling that miserable you're just being selfish. Real love doesn't overstep in a new relationship so you can hog their spotlight. You're not even a friend; you're a skunk marking your territory and keeping him in the friendzone while not really wanting him to have a girlfriend.

You learn to love somebody in their love language and not just yours. Selfish love is not real love. That's just using someone to fill a place. Maybe a distraction. Seeking anything in return isn't real love because if you want that you actually don't have love to give; it's fake; it's toxic. If there's someone who isn't around anymore and you miss them consider the fact that you might just miss the place they held in your life. (You have the freedom to fill that space anyway you want.)

She realized she burned through all her goodwill thus the sudden ghosting and extracting herself. I never asked my partner to pick me or issued any ultimatums. Sometimes important questions stay unanswered. Sometimes you have to move on without the apology you deserve. There is grief in never receiving closure.

My partner finally saw my concerns validated in the aftermath. I bubbled with rage remembering excuses he made for her. Day in and day out I was drinking from an overflowing cup of righteous anger. So what was his role in this? Stupid or co- conspirator?

He was oblivious.

“I can't believe you could've left me for a wannabe influencer.”

I switched my phone wallpaper from his picture to a solid color. Looking at his face filled me with disgust. There's only so much letting go you can ask someone to do. I knew I still loved him, but anytime a woman is hurt she becomes less interested.

How do you recover from unknowingly letting a toxic bitch walk all over and jeopardize your relationship?

Friends told me to move on, date other people. He campaigned for the relationship again. We did the work of picking up the pieces and starting over. 

I'm not pretending to be perfect. I was reeling from back to back traumas. My soft spots turned hard and cynical. It was my turn to be the toxic one. I drove to work sobbing everyday for a month. I complained constantly. My default became anxious and suspicious. I'm so out of touch with the person I was before; she's a stupidly innocent, free-spirited stranger to me. It took time for the poison leach out.

It's a lot of baggage.

The couples who make it aren't always the ones that never had a reason to break up. They're the ones that decide their commitment to each other is more important than their mistakes. Fast forward to the herculean effort he made to earn back my trust and we're still very happily together. (This is published with his permission.)

Our relationship is more grounded in reality now. It's not crowded anymore. Somethings more precious from having almost been lost. Somethings will never be the same. I'm the villain in her story, just as much as she's the villain in mine. We get to live out our own endings and there is peace in that.

Hurtful, painful, memories. Memories of deep regrets, memories of hurting and being hurt. Memories of being abandoned. Only those with such memories buried in their hearts can become stronger, more passionate, and emotionally flexible. Only those can obtain happiness. So Don't forget any of it. Remember it all and overcome it. If you don't overcome it, you'll always be a kid whose soul never grows.  -The Boy Who Fed On Nightmares

[nonbinaryresource]

I am having a hard time with my cis het spouse. I'm AFAB but currently identify as non binary. First time I met my partner I told them I'm pansexual and till this day I am still that... but he can't see me the same way because he saw me as a cis woman and he has been saying he is straight but nothing in this marriage is really straight. I'm also pregnant and he has been projecting phobic things he is afraid i'll transition into someone who identifies as a man and or trans. I'm stressed out!

Wooooo. Okay. I don’t know that you even realize how hefty of an ask you sent in? Like… there’s so much going on here, and it’s no wonder you’re so stressed.

I’m going to get quite blunt further down in this ask, so please don’t read this until you’re fully mentally ready to hear what I have to say because it may not be what you particularly wanted to hear.

So, first things first, I just want to let you know that I’m thinking of you, I’m here for you, and I’m so sorry for the stress you’re under right now. Team You” to help you out right now - if not, work on building up a Team You as much as possible (see link for help in doing this).

Next, I think this is a lot bigger and a lot deeper than any advice column or anonymous tumblr can provide! I think you really need more support than a one-off ask or even a couple of asks. Please look around your area for some queer-friendly therapists (contact your local trans/queer org and ask for some help and if they have any recs) and get thee to a therapist ASAP. I know  you have a lot going on with the pregnancy and everything else, so also know that online therapy sessions are often more accessible, cheaper, and come with more diverse options. So online therapy is also a fine option to pursue!

Please ask if your partner is open to going to couples counseling as well. (Not in place of singles therapy but in addition - and not with the same counselor acting in both regards! Again, ask a local trans/queer org if they have suggestions on queer friendly couples counselors.) Having a baby is a lot of pressure and stress and causes a lot of natural changes in a relationship. Many couples turn to couples counseling during pregnancy, and I think that it’s a really good idea for you two to do so as well. It sounds like you two need some help navigating this new stress (which is only going to increase when the baby actually arrives so start tackling it now!) and working on healthier communication.

It really sounds like your partner in particular needs to pursue some individual counseling for an appropriate avenue of processing their feelings, but you can’t control what someone else does. You can suggest he look into therapy and/or ask him to consider therapy, but at the end of the day, don’t get caught up in trying to force him to go to therapy. Get therapy yourself, hopefully get couples counseling, and work on building up your own personal boundaries and enforcing them with your partner (I’ll get into this more below).

Okay, my two cents on the situation…

You are worth standing up for.

There is a lot going on all at once, so I want to break them apart a bit and possibly making them more manageable.

Consider your own wants, needs, and desires

I’m sure you have considered these things and just found them not relevant to the ask, but if you haven’t, ask yourself:

“What, if any, transitional steps am I interested in?” You might only be interested in learning more about certain steps and not interested in pursuing them, at least not at this moment. That counts and is something to think about. Social transition is also something to think about - not just physical or medical.

“What support do I need in regards to my identity right now?” You’re not getting much support from your partner right now. Do you have friends/family you can lean on? Are you leaning on them? How about a larger queer community? Could you make a few PFLAG meetings? Do any other local trans/queer groups hold meetings or talks or events that you could participate in? Are there any queer groups on meetup.com for your local area? How much do you feel a part of any online communities?

“What are my boundaries about how much I can help my spouse process his feelings about my identity right now?” Boundaries are good!!! Boundaries are healthy!!! You do not have to engage in trying to convince your partner of your identity!!! You do not have to be the one who helps your partner work through his own bigotry regarding your identity!!! Decide what you can really, honestly, actually handle, and start laying down boundaries. Practice saying things like: “When you say [x] about my gender, it makes me feel invalidated and anxious. I need for you to change the subject and stop talking about this right now.” and “I am not the person who can help you process your fears about my potential transition. I need you to stop talking to me about this and find someone else to talk to.” Use them. You are not a bad partner or person for not being able to talk about this with your spouse. You might have soft boundaries for some things (”I hear your concern about this subject, but I’m not in the mental headspace to be able to have this conversation right now. I’ll let you know when I do feel up to talk about this.”) and hard boundaries for others (see previous suggestions). That’s also okay. Just make sure you are keeping your own mental health in mind and being honest with yourself - and your partner - about what you can handle.

Partner identifying as straight

Have you ever discussed this with your partner? It’s absolutely valid to talk to a partner about what their identity means to them - and what it means to you. We can’t force other people to label in certain ways, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a discussion about what the identity means to each of us or to ask if they would consider identifying in a way that’s more inclusive of your identity.

It may be that a conversation can clear up how a partner sees their own identity and makes you feel better about how you’re included in their sexuality. Or it may be that a partner doesn’t realize exactly how much this is weighing on you. Or maybe it’s something a partner has been thinking about but was afraid to bring up.

No relationship can survive - and definitely can’t flourish - without open and honest respectful communication, which means that everybody feels they have a safe space to talk and everyone is actually heard when they do talk.

This is something that is significantly bothering you and sounds like it may have been bothering you for a while. Therefore, it’s something that absolutely deserves attention.

(This is something that would be good to talk about in the presence of a queer-friendly couples counselor rather than on your own, if at all possible, considering your partner’s current reactions to your gender.)

Partner’s cissexist comments

I basically covered this under boundaries in my first bullet point, but it bears repeating because this is super important.

A) You are not the right person for your partner to process these fears with.

B) You’re pregnant!!! Stress impacts your health as it is and being pregnant increases the risks you can face when under high stress. Not only are you not the right person for your partner to process these fears with, this is really not the right time for your partner to be trying to process these fears with you.

Regardless of whatever therapy you do or do not pursue, please instate boundaries around these comments ASAP. Tell your partner that he needs to stop dumping this on you. If he forgets or ignores your boundary: put in headphones, walk away, call a friend. Do not spend time getting sucked into any more discussions or arguments about his fears. Decide on a boundary and uphold it.

Is it reasonable to discuss your own desires regarding transition with your partner? Yes, of course, that’s absolutely something that should be able to happen. But don’t think you sharing that is the same as him pestering and bothering you and making inappropriate comments about his fears regarding what transitional steps you may or may not take. An actual conversation regarding this cannot happen until he’s able to sort through his own fears and actually hear anything you might have to say. So, for now, just shut it down. He needs to go elsewhere, preferably a good therapist, to process his fears regarding this and spend some time getting more educated on trans issues so he can approach this conversation in an educated and genuine manner, before any more conversations about this happen with you.

Seriously consider ALL of your options regarding this relationship

I get it.

You’re married to this person and pregnant.

I’m sure you’ve had a lot of good times with your partner.

I’m sure you love your partner very, very much.

I’m sure your partner loves you very, very much and that you otherwise feel supported by your partner.

I’m sure you’re thinking about the support your baby will need as well as the support you’ll need, both while pregnant and afterwords with a newborn.

Maybe you’re even thinking that the pregnancy is stressful and things will calm down when the baby comes (but babies also put lots of stress on relationships!).

But the way your partner is treating you right now is straight up not okay. This relationship right now? Has a ginormous, gaping, huge crack in it. You cannot be in a truly healthy and happy and supportive relationship with someone who is denying your identity and pressuring you to perform/act/be/look a certain way. And it’s absolutely not better for you or the baby to raise a child in an environment with a ‘partnership’ like this. Please don’t downplay how harmful and upsetting your partner’s behavior is because you’re married and pregnant and love them and have been otherwise treated well. It’s okay to admit how much your partner is upsetting you and pressuring you and stressing you out. In fact you need to be able to admit that if you’re going to get to be honest with your partner about how you feel and the state of your relationship and the potential future of this relationship.

Regardless of what you end up deciding to do, I need you to start considering all your options just to be sure you really know and understand what they all are and that they’re all actually open to you.

Yes, one option includes divorcing your partner (and figuring out how to coparent with him at the same time).

I know! That’s scary and not what you want to do. I’m not asking you to do it. I’m only asking you to consider it.

Consider this not because it’s 100% what you should do (I don’t know 100% what you should do - I don’t think life really works like that and I think the best thing to do is always the thing you actually, freely get to choose to do) but so that you know it’s an option, you’re prepared if it’s the option you have to take, and to help give perspective to other options you have.

Think of what you’d need logistically and financially to move forward with a separation (who would get wherever you’re presumably living together and who would have to move? do you have family or friends you could stay with? what financial support would you need to make separation viable? does this change whatever plans you had to stay home and/or return to work? could you rely on family to help with childcare? would you need to interview for a nanny? what daycare options are available to you? do you have a bank account in just your own name with some money in it - if not, could you set this up now?). You don’t have to contact a divorce lawyer. Just think about what leaving would actually entail and realize that it would be hard, incredibly hard, and heartbreaking, but it would also be doable. Break it into small chunks and handle what you can.

Another option, of course, is staying.

Consider what it would mean for you to stay and - more importantly - what you need in order to stay.

Do you need your partner to agree to therapy (individual and/or couples) in order to feel safe and comfortable staying? Do you not need your partner to agree to therapy (even if you’d like it) but just need him to agree to stop dumping his trans-related fears on you? Do you need your partner to go to some PFLAG meetings and educate himself more on trans/nonbinary/queer issues? If you have been considering any form of physical/medical transition, is that something you’re willing to withdraw as an option for yourself? What can you do to support your partner and what do you need him to do to support you (and what does he feel he needs from you in support and what does he feel he can give you in support)?

Basically, it comes down to: you are not obligated to accept this shitty treatment towards you, not for any reason. What do you need in order to stay - and what are you willing to do if those needs aren’t met?

.

That was a lot to take in. You’re under a lot of stress and pressure right now. Please make sure you’re taking care of yourself. Lean on your support system. Ask them for help!!! I’m sending you good vibes and wishing you nothing but the best. I hope it turns out well.

~Pluto

[ethandigby]

『 LANDON LIBOIRON ❙ GENDERQUEER 』 ⟿ looks like ETHAN DIGBY is here for THEIR SECOND year as a VISUAL ART GRAD student. HE is 27 years old & known to be DEDICATED, HONEST, STUBBORN & PESSIMISTIC. They’re living in NOLAND, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ drew. twenty-two. est. he/him. ethan’s pinterest

trivia:

he really likes white cholate & hot chocolate, often eating handfuls of white chocolate baking discs regardless of the time of day. 

visual art major --- tends to stray towards sculptures and installation pieces, though he does have a love for bob ross style landscape pieces. draws a lot of inspiration from older art, and many of his pieces are designed to look worn-out and as though they are missing pieces. 

perpetually exhausted --- for all his love of schedules, he has never managed to consistently get enough sleep and though he loves tea, that never seems to have enough of an impact to truly wake him up ---- a.k.a he is a yawn prone little fuck

doesn’t quite believe the local legends, though he doesn’t dismiss them outright either. the statue by wishing tree has, however, made it into several of his works ---- statues seem to have her facial features without him ever meaning to and he will swear to anyone that asks that in sophomore year of his bachelor’s degree he woke up one morning to her face staring at him from amongst the trees on a painting he had been working on. he will hesitantly add that it’s possible that he had just been thinking of her while half asleep, though ethan doesn’t really believe that

currently working as a TA for some of the freshman art classes, as well as overseeing the use of the different art studios from time to time. 

doesn’t believe in labels --- and that’s corny as hell, but he just wants to be able to be whoever he is in the moment and has had some harsher reactions when he uses umbrella terms, so he just refuses to label himself. relationship-wise it’s a whole different issue, he floats from one major relationship to another and often times will cycle back to one that’s already gone sour. 

has recently started going to a therapist to talk about some of the issues he has processing emotions and his fear of change ---- it’s been helping but he’s still very much on the verge of flight mode and will run away from situations that demand any real sort of emotional input from him on occasion. 

personality:

he is cynical, despite a desire to believe the best in people and the world - he has seen too much of the darker side of the world to ever truly believe it ---- this is reflected not only in his interactions with people ( he is open about expressing doubt and disbelief, he won’t believe a word you say, and he overanalyzes promises / invitations / declarations of love ) but also in his art and aesthetic which veers towards the dark and damned, a lot of his work is themed around broken things

stubborn as a mule ---- once he gets an idea in his mind, it can be hard to change his mind with logical arguments though an emotional appeal will have a better chance ---- he’s very set in his ways and struggles with questioning why things are the way they are, insisting that somethings should just be. loathes change and isn’t afraid to express this dislike --- tends to eat the same foods, wear the same clothes, go to the same places ---- despite a childhood dislike of routine, he finds it comforting nowadays, it feels safe.

loyal as all hell, you can hurt him a million times and he will still struggle to walk away and a genuine apology will win him back in an instant. he struggles to cut ties, even with those that he knows aren’t the best for him and has only successfully done so when it is possible for him to do so in a swift and permanent way. in most cases, he will eventually find his way back to those that he knows. 

friendly but not overly so --- he has no issue approaching people if he needs something, but he’s not generally one to approach you just to “chat” b/c he’s not big on small talk in general and honestly? he’d never say it but if he doesn’t know you, he doesn’t really give a damn how your day went or how you feel about the weather or current events. if he drinks, he becomes a little more sociable in that matter, but that often drifts into “ethan is going to info-dump about whatever has his interest in the moment and the only way to stop him is to like physically place something in / on his mouth” territory which is a whole different level of awkward. 

backstory:

growing up in a household where routine took priority, ethan spent a long time feel stifled by his parent’s demands that everything turned out perfectly ---- the neverending need to do things at just the right time, in just the right way. it was like fitting into a sweater that was just a tad too small, wrong in a way that is hard to explain

it’s in high school that he meets a true kindred spirit in the form of his art teacher ---- he helps ethan to realize his need for freedom and self-expression, and embraces his abilities in a way that he had always been afraid to. it’s a change that his parents are disapproving of, trying to reroute their son’s future to one of the paths that they would have approved of. but for once, he allows himself to rebel.

and after graduation, he leaves. running to new york, where he throws himself into the art scene head first without any real plans. for two years, he works multiple jobs as he cycles through sketchy roommates in his shitty apartment and equally shitty life partners, trying to discover things about himself that he hadn’t known before.

he’s still figuring some of that out, unsure of how to label his gender or his sexuality --- wishing more than anything that he could just be, a desire that he has long held onto since childhood that’s coming back to haunt them at last. 

that’s not the only thing that’s caught up with them as of late, the digby’s finally managing to track him down in new york and showing up at his apartment two years after he initially ran off. they came with open minds and a burning desire to see their son do something other than work minimum wage jobs and live in run-down apartments. they were quiet and subdued in a way that they never had been.

it took six months for them to convince him to enroll in college, and he eventually chose to attend radcliffe with an undeclared major. it was far enough from his hometown that his parents couldn’t reasonably drive up too often, but close enough that he could go home if he had wanted. a three-hour drive in the best traffic.

the distance proved to be the right amount --- though his parents certainly seemed to pop up over the first three months with containers of food and worries that their child would have run off, they eventually learned to trust him. and slowly, the wounds healed ---- ethan wouldn’t say that they’re close but they’ve learned to respect each other’s boundaries.

and he’s never seen them more proud than at graduation, except maybe when he told them that he was going to apply to grad school. it wasn’t the path that they had planned for ethan, but they had learned to be enthusiastic about his success, about his dreams and about his art.

doing his master’s degree - it’s been weird. being here is weird for him in general, he still misses new york even though it was a whole different kind of existence ---- he misses the stability of going to work everyday and being completely independent. here, he has to rely on his professors and classmates, he has people that expect him to check in with them and there’s more socialization --- mostly because he’s been trying to do better with that. 

connections:

good / bad influence: okay so traditionally, i think these would be separate connections but i think in this case, it’s more convoluted than that. for all of ethan running away from the environment his parents made, he’s very much stuck to those rules and expectations --- i would love for someone to start to break him out of that --- encourage him to party and drink and live life, and it doesn’t all have to be bad, it can be good too. you know, them bringing him to parties and him learning actually valuable lessons from it --- idk open to talking about their potential influence on each other, i think it could be fun

frenemies ( onesided or not ): i think a lot of ethan’s trust issues are a projection mechanism because he knows that in some ways that he can’t be trusted --- so i wld love for someone who they act like best friends when they’re together and then ethan just ... talks smack about them and doesn’t keep their secrets ( and maybe they do the same?? ) 

exes ( of all types / genders / whatever ): this one, my dear ethan, has gotten around a bit --- maybe they hooked up and now it’s awkward ---- maybe they dated for a while and keep circling back to each other despite knowing that they’re bad for each other ( a la unmiss you by clara mae ) ---- maybe they dated for a while and now they never talk so when they do see each other it’s just ... awkward as hell ---- open to literally anything with this one guys

art buddies: just two pals, palling around --- only prerequisite is that your character has some sort of interest in an art ( writing, theatre, music, film, etc etc ) --- and hey maybe they don’t get along but they put up a united front against the STEM majors who mock their choices in major? 

other: open to discussing dormates, coworkers, current love interests and literally anything else that you can think of --- does your character need someone over 21 to buy them alcohol? call ethan. for real tho, hit me up and let’s come up with some stuff!

[arocharacteradvice]

A minor plot point of my story involves the mc getting in a qpr with his aroace friend. I’ve thought a lot about making sure not to break the aroace chara’s boundaries, but I’m slightly worried I might be overlooking the mc’s desires? If the aroace chara doesn’t want to do things like have sex/kiss but those are things the mc would want from him, would it be wrong to put them together? The aroace chara encourages the mc pursuing other people for those things. Is that good enough?

So, I’m not going to make a definitive statement as to whether putting these two characters into a qpr would be ‘wrong’ or not. I also can’t give much specific guidance as I haven’t read your story and this is a very nuanced topic. (Which isn’t your fault, I’m just explaining why my answers might seem vague) What I can do is give some pointers, and poise some questions of you that might help you figure out if this is a healthy dynamic.

I’ll be addressing the aro side of things obviously as this is an aro character advice blog, but you can go to ace blogs for more info on that, and to be honest most of the advice I’ll be giving can likely apply to both areas.

Ok so first off: You sound like you want to respect the aro character, and not have the mc pressure them, which is a very good start! But I feel like you may still be viewing the dynamic as one where mc wants something, the qp can’t give it, and his boundaries are a problem that need to be solved, just with another relationship in this case rather than ‘curing’ the aro or having them give in.To be honest this is probably on some level because the mc is the main character. As a writer, you tend to think in terms of your protagonist’s goals.

(also, as a note, if you were at all thinking about having the qp giving in and kissing the mc anyway, unless this is portrayed as very very negative, Don’t Do That for the love of positive representation)

Anyway! Please, please be clear in your writing that one person looking for a certain thing out of their relationship, and another person not looking for it, doesn’t mean the first person is hard done by and suffering horribly by compromising. It’s simply a matter of incompatibility in that area.

Especially when the situation with your characters is that one wants romance, and the relationship is queerplatonic. It’s an explicitly purely platonic relationship style! This isn’t a case of person A ‘overlooking’ their desires because of person B, this is a case of person A entering a relationship they know full well will Not be romantic, still feeling unsatisfied because it’s not romantic, and person B having to suggest solutions to something that isn’t technically a problem. Imagine getting frustrated with a waitress because they wouldn’t kiss you. Why would you expect them to? A qpr isn’t a romantic relationship with one ‘faulty’ partner. Don’t treat it as such.

(It’s a bit of a different situation with sex, as qprs can be sexual, but that’s not my area)

Sure, some qprs have more romantic coded elements, but they’re not an expectation. If you’re going to write a qpr, please understand that actions within them are on an equal playing field. kissing and having sex have no more inherent value than holding hands or watching a movie. It’s about what individuals want. 

I’m also not trying to say that your mc doesn’t matter. Just that your bias could possibly be tipped towards him. He is compromising by not being able to kiss his qp, and the qp is probably compromising in a bunch of ways too. Maybe the qp wants to live together or get a dog or matching tattoos or go to heavy metal concerts together, and the mc doesn’t. There’s Stuff like that in all relationships, you just need to start also viewing romantic coded activities as Stuff, only with more cultural baggage.

On the topic of the mc having another partner: that sounds to me exactly like a compromise on the qp’s part. Did he go into this relationship wanting it to be polyamorous? Because it sounds like this is something he’s doing for the mc, especially as you say this is about the mc specifically having other partners, not the two of them as a couple becoming open. Even if the qp is enthusiastic about it, doesn’t mean it’s something he particularly wanted out of the relationship, just like the mc didn’t particularity want a non-romantic relationship. 

I would also question you as to why the qp is enthusiastic, and whether that’s a character choice or something you’ve done to benefit the mc. Maybe examine whether you have a negative gut reaction to the mc not seeing someone else for kissing/sex, and if so, work on unlearning that. I’m not saying that in your specific situation, the qp must feel pressured or not good enough, but it does happen and it’s worth thinking about how aros would feel seeing a character they’re meant to identify with happily telling their partner to see other people for desires the aro can’t fulfill. I know I personally would feel uncomfortable with it unless it was really well written, as I’ve been in a similar situation myself. 

Again, some people are fine with letting their partner do that kind of thing, or are polyamorous in the first place, but I would be very very careful about how you present it, (other aro blogs, and the qpr tag, may help) and consider whether it makes sense for the qp to feel this way based on context and their characterization. 

I hope this hasn’t sounded too harsh. I’m very aware that you could have considered all this already, but I feel like I need to cover a lot of ground because I don’t know specifics about your characters and this is a stupidly complicated topic.

A few things to consider adding in or developing further: 

Both partners entering or being allowed to enter other relationships. This might change the tone from ‘aros aren’t enough so my mc needs someone else to make up for it’ to ‘no one person has to fulfill either character’s desires!’. 

Having the mc realise that he doesn’t actually don’t need to date someone else. Not in a way that reinforces toxic monogamy or the idea of soulmates, but presented as him just working through amatonormativity and decided he’s cool without kissing anyone.

Showing what both characters get out of the relationship, rather than just what the mc doesn’t get. For instance maybe there’s a show just the two of them are into, or the qp buys the coolest presents, or if one is home late the other always waits for them to start eating dinner. Just small things that present them as good for/happy with each other rather than focusing on the one area of incompatibility. 

Showing why the qp wants to be in this relationship. I think this would help aro readers feel comfortable, as it’s kind of opt in for aros to date as opposed to alloromantics assuming they will, if that makes sense. We also, as a community, tend not to value our own goals and wants. Does he want that partner label to be able to easily explain what the mc means to him? Making that explicit would probably make him more relatable, and help stop aro readers projecting discomfort onto him. Explaining what makes the relationship fulfilling for him would also show that he doesn’t have to lower his expectations just because he’s not willing to be in a romantic relationship.

You don’t have to employ all or any of these ideas to make the relationship work, I just wanted you to have some options if you read my earlier advice on what not to do and though ‘heck, I did do that though’. You might also want to get some aro sensitivity readers to go through some later drafts of the story, though do be aware that some aros would be uncomfortable seeing an aro character in any kind of relationship. Not every aro will want to read what you write, but that’s ok so long as you consider those who will.

tl;dr: Don’t show the aro character’s boundaries as a hurdle, just a different relationship expectation than his partner. Consider why you’re writing the aro character the way you are, and take into consideration what they both enjoy about their relationship.

Good luck! And I’m so sorry for the long post!

- Mod Kaladin

[destinychose-a1]

A E I O U for kagari!! luv the angry kiddo

*    valentine’s day alphabet  /  accepting!

A   :   AFFECTION.   how does your muse show affection?

In a platonic sense, Kagari expresses affection in pretty casual ways — a clap on the shoulder, an arm slung loosely around a person’s neck, leaning into someone’s side or flat out draping himself across their lap if the situation calls for it. He has no time for boundaries and usually needs to be told if he’s crossing any line, in which case he’ll typically back off and give the other person space ( although he might get a little pouty about it ). He’s fairly tactile and — though he’d never, ever admit it — very touch starved. While he plays off these acts of affection as being childish, over the top or even casual depending on the situation, it’s his own way of seeking out proximity without the use of words.

Other ways of showing affection can vary — even things such as his tone of voice, a rare, fond smile, offering his friend/partner access to his stash of jelly beans or lending his game console ( one of the few possessions he’s allowed to have as an Enforcer ) to them are all little acts of affection that he wouldn’t offer to just anyone.

In a romantic context, very little changes in Kagari’s expressions of affection — he’s still pretty casual about things, but there are notable moments where his genuine feelings slip through the cracks. Hand holding is a frequent gesture, often accompanied by the absent-minded tracking of his thumb over his partner’s knuckles. He’s not entirely aware that he’s doing it, which perhaps makes even sweeter. Fond nicknames, attention to the wellbeing of his partner ( and actually calling it out rather than letting it slide as he might with others ), very rare hugs and, of course, the odd kiss here and there if you’re very lucky.

Kagari can seem quite emotionally distant, though. For all these acts of affection seem genuine, he tends to keep his heart at a suitable distance, very rarely letting anyone truly close. If someone is lucky enough to earn his true affection, it still takes a while for those walls to come down and let someone in, despite his flirtatious attitude.

E   :   EMBRACE.   does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

For the most part, Kagari isn’t very fond of hugs, more so if he’s the one receiving them. Despite the fact that he’s often invading the personal space of others, he doesn’t exactly enjoy having his own invaded. Hugs are rare, often one-armed, very brief — little more than a quick squeeze before he’s retreating back into his own personal bubble. This is a habit he’ll very slowly break out of when with a partner — he’ll eventually come to enjoy hugs ( proper ones, at that ), but will always prefer to be the one initiating them.

I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

He’ll never say it, not even if he feels it ( or, something remotely close to it ).

‘I love you’ means a lot of things to Kagari, but nothing remotely positive. To Kagari, it’s the hugest lie someone can say to another person — it’s nothing more than a farce. He doesn’t really believe in love ( in a platonic and romantic sense ) and is extremely jaded by how society treats it. After all, it’s possible for a system to match you with someone who is supposed to be ‘perfect’ for you, something that happened with his parents — to put it bluntly, they weren’t happy and neither of them particularly cared for him after he was born. Sometimes he wonders if they were glad that he was flagged at a young age and institutionalised, as they never once made any attempt to find him, something he resents them for even to this day.

While he might very well come to love someone someday, Kagari will never be able to will himself to say those words out loud to his partner — it’ll always be an unspoken thing, expressed through action as opposed to through words.

O   :   ODE.   does your muse have a way with words?

To put it bluntly: no. Kagari is not particularly masterful with his words ( not that he cares to be ), nor is he well-spoken, but that can be blamed on the fact that he grew up isolated from society due to being flagged at the age of five years old and being labelled a latent criminal with a “0% possibility for rehabilitation”. Sometimes, he’ll come out with something that surprises even himself, but those kind of moments are few and far between.

Still, Kagari feels little shame in his lack of formal education. Society made him the way he is and he intends to own it, no matter how angry he is.

U   :   UNREQUITED.   has your muse had their heart broken?

Kagari would love to say no. He wants to say no above all else because he won’t ever let anything break him ever again, but the truth is, it’s happened the once and he’s never gotten over it. His complete and utter abandonment at the hands of his parents ( and society as a whole, for a crime he never even committed ) has left him permanently heartbroken and jaded by the world he lives in.

[dualdreamt]

TOPIC // SEXUALITY & GENDER IDENTITY

Shoto is asexual panromantic. This means he has no interest in sexual stuff in general and has attraction to all genders, although he typically seeks out friendship rather than romantic encounters, preferring a longtime companionship to a short-term relationship.

Shoto is a sex-repulsed ace. Even the idea of it is something he dislikes so if he ever hears anyone - his own age or not - talking about it, he’s sure to walk away as soon as the conversation starts. Sometimes, this may stop him getting into a relationship with someone if he is aware they may want something physical, as he doesn’t want to worry about whether he’s enough for someone constantly.

He has yet to experience any comments about it and it being invalid / wrong, but he also has yet to tell anyone about his sexuality in fear of such things. He doesn’t tell people about being ace as he doesn’t want any comments about how it’s abnormal, how he’s simply mentally ill (and while he does suffer from depression, anxiety and CPTSD, he dislikes comments like this) or other, more unsavoury comments/harassment attempts.

While he doesn’t fear this from friends - rationally, at least - he is worried they may tell other people who won’t react with support, which is what ultimately leads him to keep quiet about it. Even going into a relationship, he is unlikely to tell his partner for a long time - sometimes, this may be a few months in, others it may be when they’re engaged.

Sometimes, an emotional connection he may perceive as romantic isn’t, so he isn’t likely to tell someone how he feels until he’s figured it out. He mixes up platonic and romantic feelings at times, so he wouldn’t want to be the person who dates someone only to figure out they’re more like a sibling to him. He does operate on a one strike and you’re out type of way with people in his life. Most likely, if you break his trust, he’ll cut you off completely - if someone is remorseful and apologies, he might consider letting them back in, depending on what they did.

Some days he will refuse any touch. He has days where touch is terrifying to him, often correlating with poor mental health on said days, and where he cannot handle it. If someone touches him after being told he doesn’t want to be touched, he will lash out physically out of habit, so please respect his boundaries.

Part of the reason he’s worried about his asexuality is the knowledge he may be expected by his father to continue the Todoroki lineage with a strong quirk, considering Endeavor made that a goal of his. He doesn’t want him to find out and react adversely, regardless of what his actual reaction would be.

For a time, he did believe he may be aromantic. In threads where he has not got any romantic interests canon to that thread, he may still believe himself to be. This is part of why he has issues telling how he feels, because he isn’t sure if he’s feeling a strong platonic attraction (a friend crush, to be simple) or a weak romantic attraction or the difference between them.

He’s worried to hurt people if his supposedly romantic feelings do turn out to be platonic, as he understands that a break up like that can be painful for some people and he doesn’t want to lose an ex-partner as his close friend, either.

Aside from this, he refuses to let people label him with terms such as ‘gay’, ‘straight’ or ‘bi’ as, while he does not view them as invalid, he isn’t either of these, as they often imply the presence of sexual attraction and do not completely match his sexuality. Being called that by anyone - or having a relationship he is in referred to as ‘gay’ or ‘straight’ - will be met with annoyance.

[aeide-thea]

'Franklin has an unhealthy 'tolerance' for emotional pain in his partners. When someone you care about is deeply in pain, it is the very nature of intimacy that you will also experience empathic pain and you will be driven to act to stop that pain. If that pain is directly related to you and your actions -or- if it is somehow within your power to otherwise ease that pain and you cannot or will not (which are both reasonable choices) make the changes or take the action that you need to alleviate that pain, then I really believe for any healthy person that this mutual pain must at some point drive you to leave the relationship. I think this is the natural and healthy course.

Franklin will essentially stay forever with a partner who is suicidally miserable. How is that? Why is that? And how do his partners bend around that reality?'

i remember so vividly being totally mystified by R's ability/willingness to just, like, let a state of misery drag on without resolution, like, whether it was between us or between em and somebody else there was so often just this kind of bizarre acceptance that things were just going to feel bad for an extended period of time, and this was just How Things Were, kaiidth, &c? whereas to me it felt like, how do you just sit with something being wrong between you and a partner without feeling as though it's urgent to resolve it? this is a state of crisis! it needs to be lanced, not just left to fester!

'I believe that the way that Franklin is able to tolerate his partner's pain over long periods of time is that he never, fundamentally believes it is coming from him. No matter how bad it is, actually, especially when it is so bad that you, as his partner become hysterical, 'irrational' or otherwise crazy, he will continue to see it as essentially something that is coming from you. And, this being the case, he will be a kind and calm and loving friend, helping you through this thing that you alone are experiencing.

In this way, do you see how the very construct of the relationship will gaslight anyone who is emotionally invested in him and then suffers for it? Because you will always be steered towards believing that the pain is ultimately coming from you,'

which is so fucking familiar? R would be, like, sympathetic about the ways in which eir life choices were hurting me, but somehow it was like, those were an agent-less phenomenon ey had no responsibility to try and mitigate the effect of, so ey was on my team insofar as sympathizing about it but there was no idea that ey might ever make different choices? but ey also wouldn't ever have broken up with me; ey just kept pulling away and leaving me agonizedly to run after em, trying to come up with a model whereby this behavior could be construed as loving and bearable.

'[F]or me, the solution was to attempt to build a skillset that would allow me to manage and take responsibility for the pain and stress that I was experiencing as a direct result of my relationship with him. Of course my history with depression confused the issue greatly about where my experience was coming from, but I understand now that it was straight up coming from the relationship.'

god, the number of times i was like, 'i feel like i'm sad about things with R, but maybe it's just all my unanchored sadness latching onto a concrete focus?' god!!

'When Franklin is inconsistent, unclear, and isn't taking responsibility so you can't count on him, but you need him and love him deeply, it FUCKS YOU UP over time. When you are additionally, trying to 'own your feelings,' not be controlling and have a neutral impact on his other relationships, you are likely to be more hesitant to ask for what you need, call out things that feel wrong, or assert boundaries.'

yup!! exactly, precisely, all of this. so much. god. &:

'One more realization that I have had, is that there is a difference between intense love and intense relief. I never had a chance with Franklin to really find out what love with him would look like, because I was too busy riding the roller coaster of pain-attachment and relief-attachment. I understand much better now what secure love feels like, and it just... it just never feels like that. With secure love, sometimes you hurt, and you have to work all the time, but it doesn't feel like almost dying and then being resuscitated over and over again. That's something else.'

and like, this is all simultaneously validating—it's reasonable to have been fucked up by this kind of thing!—and really difficult, because i still feel reluctant to label R's behavior 'bad'? like, i still feel a real tenderness for em & a real sympathy for eir point of view, even though this whole dynamic was arguably worse for me even than things with B—arguably precisely because i haven't closed myself off to sympathy for R? with B i now feel very comfortable saying, he was selfish & shitty & his entitlement led him to treat me/other partners unethically! but like, the kind of harm B caused was a kind of harm i'd long been used to (albeit not sexually), and learned how to accommodate; and so it didn't ultimately really throw me for a loop, because i was braced against it & because i was ultimately able to say, no, i condemn you, and having made my judgment i am done with you. whereas the kind of harm R caused me was new, and one i was particularly vulnerable to, and as i remain unable wholly to condemn it i remain unable wholly to purge it, even now—

so like, it would be nice to be able to stick a tidy concluding bow on this post; but you're going to have to settle for its breaking off abruptly & without resolution, because unfortunately, more than a year later, that's still the best i can do.

[huntertales]

I Don’t Need Saving | Chapter Three.

Pairing: Superhero!Dean Winchester x Journalist!Reader

Word Count: 6,885. (So...that happened.)

Warning: None.

Summary: To friends and family he’s known as Dean Winchester, at night he transforms into the Red Hood. The vigilante of the city beating up criminals and saving damsels from danger. Nobody has seen his face, nobody knows his true identity. Except for a few helpful allies. The reader is best friends with Dean for long as she can remember, and head over heels in love with the man. But she doesn’t have mutual feelings for the Red Hood.

However an encounter with the vigilante starts to change her opinion on the hero, and soon, she grows a fascination with him. Somehow she finds herself growing a strange friendship with the vigilante she once was supposed to hate, not realizing it’s someone she knew. Dean, hiding behind the mask of the Red Hood, shows his true feelings for the reader in disguise. Little do they realize both of them are holding a secret from each other that will put them in danger.

*Based upon Jensen Ackles as The Red Hood.

Previous Chapter | Story Masterlist

The next morning was Saturday, the start of the weekend and an escape from work for some who worked the traditional nine to five, for you it was just another day on the calendar. Working as a journalist meant you had no set hours you needed to abide by, just an deadline to meet. Sometimes you loved the freedom to work whenever you wanted within reason, sometimes you hated it because the job called for your attention when you least expected it—and at some inconvenient times, too. But you wouldn't chose any other career in the world.

You loved being front and center at breaking news and chasing down every lead and interviewing people to get their side of the story to give the most factual article for the public to read. Lucky for you there was never a shortage of stories to write in the city. Crime never stopped in a city that never slept. You lost count how many articles you wrote about from crooked business owners to major drug busts. And the world around you provided even more things to write about, too.

When you did come to the office to either work on an upcoming article or try to get done writing done, you dragged your feet gave a deathly glare for anyone who dare so look in your direction to say hello, or God forbid, smile. You hated early mornings when a big article was due in such a short time span, because it meant you were up half the night making sure everything was perfect. You took pride in your job and reporting the news seriously. However you were feeling quite the opposite when you rolled out of bed today. You walked into the building with a smile on your face and actually greeted fellow coworkers who passed you by. Today was going to be a good day.

“Good morning.” You greet your partner and best friend Cas with a warm smile and friendly tone of voice he would have never expected out of someone like you. You stopped by his desk before your own, your bag draped over your shoulder and your jacket still on. In your hands were two coffees in a paper tray and a crumbled up to go bag from your favorite shop. The man stared at you for a moment with a slightly hesitant look. “What? It’s coffee, Cas. I didn’t lace it with arsenic.”

“It’s not my birthday.” Cas thought to out loud to what could be the occasion where you brought him coffee and were in the office so early, especially on a Saturday. He tried coming up with an idea that might explain what you were doing here and looking so cheery, but he came up with nothing. He reached out a hand to grab the coffee that you offered him. “Did you make yourself an Irish coffee or something? Most of the time I have to keep my distance until you circled around the break room twice to get your coffee intake. And you even more bitchier when we’ve got a story due.”

“Shut up.” You mumbled, pretending to be a little offended at the description of you that too accurate not to be you. “A girl can’t be happy?”

“In your case, no.” Cas replied as he took a sip of the coffee after making sure it was cool enough so it wouldn’t burn him.

You narrowed your eyes on the man as you dropped your bag to the floor and sat down on the edge of his desk that you knew could hold your weight. You placed down the bag of food and pushed it closer to you when he tried to sneak a peek at what it was. “Hey! That’s not for you.” You said, nearly slapping his greedy hands away. “Is Gabriel in? I need to talk to him.”

“Yeah. He’s late to everything except work.” Cas said. Your happy persona faltered for a moment as you inhaled a deep breath, suddenly overcome with nervousness at what you were about to do.  “Is this about the article?”

“Sort of.” You admitted. “I want to ask him about a idea that I know would make a perfect front page story. But I’m gonna need some time.”

Cas leaned back in his office chair and grew a smirk across his lips that was hidden behind the paper cup he brought to his mouth to take another sip. “Oh. Are we talking about one of Y/N Singer’s famous investigative articles?”

“Something like that.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Well, what is it?” Cas asked out of curiosity.

Before you could answer your friend’s question, you saw your boss coming out from the break room and heading back to his office with a cup of coffee in his hands. You jumped to your feet and grabbed the paper bag, following behind Gabriel as you called out his name to get his attention. Cas rolled his eyes and grabbed his camera before following behind you, knowing he was going be called in so Gabriel could inspect the photographs he took the previous day and pick one that would be printed and others published on the site to compliment the article you wrote and capture the feeling in the photographs he took.

You and Cas had worked together on many stories over the years since you were hired at the paper, and that’s where your friendship started. You were good with words, Cas had a talent at takings photographs. It didn’t matter if there was complete chaos, it didn’t matter if the sky was falling. He always managed to capture what was going on around him without fail. Both of you were a duo that Gabriel swore was gift from God.

You straightened out your shoulders and made your way into the office of your editor who sat at his desk, pretending to look busy like he always did to get people to leave him alone. But you knew if you didn't do this now, you were never going to get the courage to ask him again. When he noticed your approaching figure, you greeted him with a smile as you plopped down the bag in front of his face. Your smile grew wider when his eyes dropped to the label on the bag that was from his favorite bakery you saw him come into the office with at least once a week.

You learned from another writer that one way to persuade him into letting you do an article was to bribe him with food to satisfy his sweet tooth. While the contents inside was his favorite, you pulled it away from him before he could even reach out an arm and grab it from you.

“I want the front page of Sunday’s paper.” You demanded as you told him the reason why you were here, but the tone of voice came off more nervous than you had intended for it to be.

“Good morning to you, too, Sugar.” Gabriel asked, his eyes darting straight to you when you barged into his office without even saying hello, which wasn’t like you. You crossed your arms over your chest and nodded your head to the paper bag that he was eyeing. He opened up the bag to see that it was his favorite. He slowly crumpled up the bag and raised his brow in curiosity. “What can I do for you, Y/N? Excellent work on the article, by the way. Read it last night. But I’m sorry. I would love to put your story on the front page, but there was that whole—“

“Thank you. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I want to do an investigative piece. Something that’s gonna take some time.” You told your boss. Gabriel seemed curious as he wondered what you had in mind. You inhaled a deep breath as you forced yourself to tell him what you wanted to write about. “I want to do a piece about the Red Hood.”

"The Red Hood?" Cas repeated the name of the stranger who had made headlines a few times here and there over the past few years since coming out of nowhere. You always gritted your teeth and unwillingly wrote about the hero and their good deed. You looked over to the side to see he was standing right next to you with his camera in his hand and a baffled look on his face. "I thought you didn't—”

“I don’t like him/her/them.” You said, bringing up the opinion you shared with him last night after you interviewed the three women in the hospital, who claimed the masked vigilante saved their lives. “Whoever the hell is running around this city.”

“You want the front page to say you don’t like some guy who saved three innocent girls from God knows what future? Not to mention dozens other crimes they stopped? Sorry. Not gonna happen.” Gabriel said. You rolled your eyes from how he was shooting you down without letting you pitch your real story. “Go work for Fox news if you want to spread your opinion. Here at the Daily Insider we like to report on important things that—”

"What if I personally got an interview with them?" You asked, cutting off your boss. Gabriel had one hand shoved into the paper bag to grab his breakfast as Cas was flipping through the pictures on his camera to pick out the best ones, but both men stopped from what you said. You swallowed slightly and went at trying to explain your idea without sounding like a lunatic. "You're always telling us to ask the questions everybody else is afraid to do. Push the boundaries and get to the real source of what’s going on. That’s what our readers count on when they read our newspapers. And this city knows the Red Hood—but they don’t know him or her. And I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a few questions of my own.”

Gabriel pulled his hand out from the bag and settled it on the desk as he arched his brow. You knew by that look you got his curiosity going from what you were saying. “Yeah? Like what?”

"What made them decide to dress up in a costume and put the justice system into their own hands? How do they know where all these crimes are happening? And most importantly, how about the countless people he's beaten up and caused serious damage?" You proposed just a few questions you had come up with last night for an interview you planned out all in your head that could have taken place behind the plexiglass window of the jail where the Red Hood would be in after you found out who they were. “And I know, I know. They're criminals. The public doesn't care about them. But you know what the public cares about? The fact that their taxes are being spent on said criminals to pay for their medical bills. And the cops who protect this very city. Red Hood is taking the law into his own hands and making it harder for them to do their job. This...masked psychopath is not a hero. And I want to prove it.”

"What are you going to do? Write an article asking for them to stop by at your house to have a formal interview?" Gabriel asked you, entertaining the idea. You rolled your eyes and shook your head no. "You can't get an interview with someone who doesn't want their identity found out. Hence the whole secret identity, Sugar."

"I said I wanted an interview, not to dox the person behind the mask." You corrected him, even though that was your true intentions. Gabriel still seemed hesitant to say yes. "Come on, Gabe. Who else can say they've got a personal interview with the one and only Red Hood? Think of how many papers we could sell.”

Gabriel thought about what you said and sat on the idea for a moment. You bit the inside of your cheek as you impatiently waited for him to answer. He looked at you for a moment before he rolled his eyes. “Fine. If you can somehow give me a legitimate story and somehow pin down this person to ask a few questions, the front page is all yours.” You broke out into a smile as you got ready to thank him, but your boss stopped you with a few guidelines. "This is a personal project I want you working in your free time. If I ask you to cover another story, that comes first. I mean it. And don't do anything stupid to get yourself killed.”

“Of course. I leave all the stupid stunts to this one to get the money shot.” You said, nudging your fellow friend in the shoulder as you gave him a playful wink. Cas gave you a sarcastic smile before rolling his eyes. He headed forward to Gabriel to discuss what he came in here for when your boss waved you off. “You won’t regret it, Gabe. Promise!”

Gabriel brushed off your words and waved you away to complete the job that he was unwillingly giving you time to do. You headed back to your desk with a victorious smirk on your lips, wondering how good it was going to take this son of a bitch down once and for all.

+ + +

Even though Gabriel had given you the go ahead for the story, there was still so many little things you needed to worry about before you could actually sit down and start writing. Your editor thought you were going to change your tune about the stranger behind the mask when you sat down and began to hear the good they had done for the city. But you couldn’t do that. Maybe it was because you grown up always being told that violence didn’t solve anything and your father was a cop. Maybe it was because you were a good person who obeyed the law. Maybe it was because you saw a good man spiral into a pit of self destructive behavior to solve a crime he would never be able to. And his kids were still paying the price for his actions. You wanted to know everything about this person; from who they were to why they thought it was their responsibility to stop muggers and beat up sex traffickers. (Okay. If you had to admit one good thing he had done it was saving those three girls. But a good deed didn’t stop all the bad he had also brought on.) If he knew that there was a serious problem going down than they should call the cops. Not put their life in danger and get themselves—or worse, the victim they were trying to save—from being killed. There had to be someone out there in this city who shared the same opinion as you. 

You spent the rest of your day between working on a list of topics and tasks you needed to complete for the story. The vigilante was a hushed secret nobody liked to talk about, it was sort of like politics. Everyone had an opinion on the matter, and they thought they were always right. There was a few published articles about the Red Hood’s heroic antics, but you wanted more than just someone else’s glorified words. You wanted to speak to the victims themselves and get to the police reports of what happened. Maybe even talk to a few cops to see how they felt about him. You even contemplated on talking to a few criminals who were busted by the vigilante to see what they remembered.

You immersed yourself into work and search, not realizing the morning had blended into the afternoon, and the lunch Cas had brought you from your favorite food cart was devoured between the things you were doing. As the time ticked away and the office thinned out, you didn’t realize how late it ended up until your computer screen went black. Your heart suddenly stopped in absolute fear from what happened, everything you had been working on all day was still there. All the news articles you found and people you were trying to track down...all gone just like that. “All work and no play makes Y/N a lame friend.” You quickly tore your gaze away from the black screen and to the person who was to blame. Your expression dropped into an annoyed glare when you saw Charlie standing in front of your desk with her finger on the power button to the screen thankfully. Cas was standing right next to her with his messenger bag strap resting on his shoulder and a twinkle of amusement in his blue eyes.

“Charlie, I love you, but I’ve got a big story I’m trying to work on.” You said to her, lightly slapping her hand away so you could turn on the screen again to get back to work. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Charlie to pop into the office. She sometimes visited when things were slow at her own job, and she even helped with an I.T. problem instead of paying someone to do it. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you and Dean had a ton of stuff to do today.” “We did. But one of the joys of being self employed is that you get to make your own hours. And we mutually agreed it was time to call it quits.” Charlie said. You scoffed at her bragging as you went back to work, oblivious to the time just yet. The redhead looked over at Cas as she raised her brow slightly from how concentrated you were. “Is she always like this?” “Only when she’s got something on her mind.” Cas replied. You rolled your eyes and saved your work when you saw the time. You started to shut down your computer and gathering your things, calling it a day. “Wow. You’re actually coming out with us tonight?” You gave the man a confused look as you slipped on your jacket and then began to shuffle up some papers you needed to help conduct further research. “What are you talking about?” You asked, shoving the papers into a manilla folder and then straight into your bag for safekeeping. “You’re kidding, right? It’s my birthday.” Charlie told you in a dead serious tone of voice. You felt your breathing stop when your best friend mentioned something that you swore you would never forget. The panicked look on your face quickly made the redhead break out into a smile as she lightly punched you in the shoulder. “God, you’re so gullible. It’s kinda sad with you being a journalist and everything.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly on the redhead as you gave her a type of glare that Cas was all too familiar with. It was the exact same one he expected to be greeted with this morning, but it seemed you were saving it for someone else. “Word of advice,” He leaned forward slightly so he was whispering to Charlie. “I’d be careful if she tries and offers you coffee. She might try to poison you.” “Nah. I’ll just brutally murder the both of you and write about it. ‘Charlie Bradbury and Castiel Novak disappear, never to be seen again.’” You said, coming up with a fake front page header as you gestured a hand to mimic the title. Charlie pretended to be scared from the empty threat and began walking in sync with you and Cas. “Is Sam coming, too?” “Yeah. He’s coming out for a couple of beers. Dean really wanted to get all of us together since it’s been forever since we all hung out. And he especially wanted to see you out having some fun because he knows how much of a workaholic you can be." Charlie said.

Her voice shifted into a playful tone that made your cheeks suddenly feel like they were growing warmer at how easy she was for her to tease you about Dean. You lightly shoved her forward as you continued walking to the exit, trying to hide the butterflies that were starting to flutter in your stomach from the shenanigans all of you were bound to get into tonight.

+ + +

Cas split up with you and Charlie when you mentioned about wanting to go back to your place to change out of the clothes you had been wearing all day and put away your work belonging before meeting back at the bar. The both of you made it there a little while later, the bar you frequented since your early college days was rather busy for the time of night. The place was a hole in the wall bar downtown where the beer was cheap and the company was decently friendly. You made your way through a small crowd of people and to the back of the bar where you spotted Cas talking to a familiar face. A smile broke out when you saw his  ginormous frame with a head of hair that always seemed a little too perfect.

“Sammy!” You called out the man’s name in an excited tone as you approached him and Cas. You noticed he wasn't dressed in his usual suit and tie, but in jeans and flannel that almost seemed like a Winchester uniform. Sam momentary paused his conversation when he noticed you were finally here. You waved your hands for him to bend down slightly to your level so you could give him a hug. The both of you embraced one another in a tight hug after the long time it’d been since seeing each other in person. When you pulled away from him, your smile dropped as you lightly shoved him in his chest. “It’s about time since I’ve seen you. Does the firm chain you to your desk?”

“Kinda. I’m up to my eyeballs in cases right now.” Sam said, giving you a glimpse of what his life had been like as a lawyer. You pretended to wipe away a tear at his life out of sarcasm. “But I managed to pick myself free for a couple of hours before they find out.”

“Well, I’m gonna have to break you out more often. It’s been too long since I’ve seen your handsome face, Sammy.” You said, teasing him slightly as you reached up to lightly pinch him on the cheek and use the same nickname he once hated when he started college. And speaking of handsome faces, you dropped your arm back down to your side and began to absentmindedly look for Sam’s older brother. “Hey, do you know where—“

"Hey, sweetheart." You turned around just in time to see the person you were looking for. Dean greeted you with a smile as he came back from the bar, his fingers cradling two beer bottles by the neck that you presumed for himself and Charlie. The other drink he was holding was your favorite cocktail. "I thought I might save you two the trouble."

"Thank you. That's so sweet of you." You said with a smile of your own at his generosity. You grabbed the drink from him and took a sip to see that it was exactly how you liked it. "I swear you've got a sixth sense or something. Charlie and I just got here."

"Well, I guess we're just that in tune with each other." Dean replied, shrugging his shoulders. He took a sip of his own beer as you took another one from your drink, your eyes moving around the bar as his wandered over to the redhead standing next to you. She hid her smirk behind her beer, knowing it was her who had told him about your upcoming arrival and suggested to get drinks ahead. You wondered if you could find a spot in the bar to occupy when you saw a wave of people come in. Dean heard the sound of pool balls clacking against one another, a sound of a game he was all too familiar with. "Hey, Sammy. Up for a game?"

One of the good things about the bar was that there was a few activities around the place for people to enjoy from foosball to darts, and the game of pool Dean suggested to his younger brother. While it was still early in the night, you knew in a few hours the competitiveness among the players would be replaced with giggles and people missing the target. Sam shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth to agree to the game, knowing he was the only one good enough to play against the man. Charlie, always being the one to be a good wing woman to her best friends, quickly spoke up before the boys could get going.

“Sam!” Charlie suddenly shouted the younger Winchester’s name, taking the four of you slightly by surprise. Sam gave her a confused expression from what she just did, you let out a quiet chuckle from her outburst. Charlie smiled as she quickly struck up a conversation. “W-Where’s Amelia? I thought you would sure bring her around.”

You watched as the mention of Sam's year and a half long relationship with his girlfriend, Amelia Richardson, didn't turn out the way you expected. You and Dean were the only single people in your small group of friends. Charlie had been going serious with Dorothy for the past few years, Cas hadn't really settled down. But you knew that his friend, Meg Masters, was always something with no strings attached. However you always suspected he had some feelings for her. You had a few relationships of your own that barely went anywhere from a couple dates to a handful of months. Dean was in the middle of the spectrum from how his love life went.

You wouldn't say that he was a complete womanizer, but he had his fair share of one night stands that you accidentally walked in on and while they were doing the walk of shame out of his apartment. When they saw you, it was the awkward pause of silence wondering if you were the the other woman. Dean had only two real relationships in his entire lifetime for long as you had known him. There was Cassidy, a sweet girl he had a thing for when you were in college. He started to fall for her, but things were moving faster than she liked, so she dumped him. And then there was Lisa Braden...the woman you thought Dean was going to spend his life with.

However if anyone's love life was tragic it had to be poor Sammy. He got his for real relationship when the both of you were in college. During his time at Stanford he met a woman named Jess, a sweet blonde who was the apple of Sam's eye. You met her a few times when Sam brought her home for holidays and summer break. Sam had confided in you at the fact that he was wanted to marry her. Unfortunately tragedy struck one night in their apartment they shared got had a gas leak, and the place burst up into flames. There was no way that it could have been prevented, but Sam blamed himself for months after her death.

You thought he was never going to get over her. And then he met a woman named Madison. The both of them seemed cute together, however she ended up breaking up with him after his dog, Riot, bit her by accident. And then there was the one crazy ex he never liked to talk about, Ruby. She had almost all of you fooled that she was Sam's perfect match. Except it turned out she was a complete psycho. A few years after Ruby came Amelia, a veterinarian who had been going steady with the man for the past year. Both of them seemed like wedding bells were in the air, however the sullen look in Sam’s face made your heart sink.

“Yeah, about that…” Sam cleared his his throat as he broke the news to all of you. “Amelia and I are no longer. We broke up a month ago. She didn't like the fact that I was spending almost all my time at the office and didn't want to move to Texas with her like we talked about. So we decided to end things mutually."

"Oh, Sammy." You whispered the man's name as you placed a hand on his back to give him a supportive pat. "I'm so sorry. I wish you told me."

Sam shrugged his shoulders, "I’ve had time to move on. I had a feeling things were heading in this direction. Besides, there’s a new woman who started at the firm. Her name is Eileen.”

“Sammy,  you sly dog.” Dean broke out into a grin at the mention of another woman his brother was interested in so soon. “Normally you sulk for weeks before putting yourself back out there.”

“It’s not like that…yet.” Sam said, giving his brother a slightly annoyed look from the way he thought so quickly. You lightly shoved Dean before you looked back at the younger man with a curious expression to know more about this Eileen. “She’s pretty cool. And smart. And, this is gonna be random, but do you guys don’t know any ASL?”

“I know a few sayings. Dorothy has a deaf cousin. She taught me a few things.” Charlie said. She reached out and grabbed Sam by the arm as she face him a smile. “Come on. I can teach you a few things like ‘Hi’ and all that.”

“What about the—“ You pointed to the pool table that was going to be free for so long before it was going to be snatched up by another group.

“Hey, didn’t you tell me you always want to learn? Well, this is the perfect time. Dean can teach you and I can show Sam some sign language.” Charlie suggested a way to spend the night. You felt your cheeks suddenly start burning when she gave you a cheery smile, the kind you saw yesterday morning when she was talking about your feelings to the older Winchester. You gave her a glare as she began walking away with a smirk you wanted to smack off her face.

You and Dean weren’t a stranger to hanging out with one another, you practically did it every chance you weren’t busy. While you were hoping to catch up with Sam, Charlie had other plans for tonight. You tightened your grip around the glass as you looked over at the older Winchester with a small smile.

“Out of all the years we’ve been coming here, you seriously never learned how to play?” Dean couldn't help himself but ask out of curiosity. You shrugged your shoulders, saying how you liked to observe from the sidelines than participate. Dean set his beer down on the wooden edge of the table and grabbed a stick for himself. “The game’s not that hard. My dad taught me how to play. But how I really got good at the game was the help from a wise and old mentor. We took our gig around town and made a few bucks.”

"I feel like you're lying and got the idea out of that Tom Cruise movie,” You approached the table as you placed down your drink next to his and rested your hands down on the wooden trimming, your fingertips almost grazing the green fabric. “Or there’s a really good story behind this you’ve never told me.”

"I wouldn't say that it's an exciting story." Dean said, shrugging his shoulders. “Bobby and I used to go to the bar when you and Sammy were still in school. We would knock back a few beers after he helped me figure out how to get my P.I. license and stuff. Let me say, your dad is a pool shark."

"Wait," You felt your face break out into a smile that seemed to light up your entire face when the story turned into a direction that you weren't expecting. While Dean was rubbing chalk at the end of the pool stick, he couldn't help himself but think about how pretty you looked underneath the bar florescent light. "You're telling me my dad taught you how to hustle?"

"Well, he wouldn't use those kinds of words. But, yeah. He did. My dad was a good private eye, but it didn’t always make bank when we needed it. And that’s how I helped pay for Sammy’s textbooks when he went to college." Dean said. You honestly thought you couldn’t think that he couldn’t have been a better big brother, and there he went. Dean set everything up for a game, and since he knew you saw enough of these to know the general rules, he handed over the stick to you. For some reason you stared at him, not sure what he wanted you to do. "Come on. It's not gonna bite you. I just want to see what you know and then we can improve on that."

You grabbed the pool stick from him and walked over to the side of the table where Dean had set everything up, saying a little prayer in your head so you wouldn't look like a complete idiot. As you inhaled a deep breath and began to remember the position that you saw him and Sam get into to hit the ball, your eyes wandered away from the white one when you saw Dean moving around in the corner of your eye. You turned your head to see that Dean was shrugging off his jacket, revealing the red button up shirt you had gotten him for his birthday a few years back, paired with a black t-shirt you swore he owned at least a dozen of from how many times you wore them.

Maybe it was because of the bar lighting, the few sips of the cocktail you had, or the nerves wracking inside your body that was making you think of how good he looked tonight. There was no denying the Winchesters had good genes. Sam might be tall and large compared to most people, but he carried a soft charm and a dimpled smile that wooed over so many women. And Dean...well, you could go on forever about him.

It was his green eyes that you got lost in while it was just the both of you talking at his place and at dinner, his hair that always remained short and yet made you long to run your fingers through the sandy locks. The muscles you saw outlined in his clothes when he moved. There was so many things you could list about him that you loved about him. And you swore if Charlie was looking your way she would be grinning like an idiot from what was about to happen next.

You slightly leaned over the edge of the pool table with the stick at a perfect ninety degree angle like you were supposed to, As you got ready to hit the white ball, Dean momentarily distracted you when he remarked about how good you look. All though you knew it was about your posture, your mind went in a completely different direction, making the stick fly off the table. You let out a sigh from what you just did, knowing how much you were making yourself look like an idiot when you heard Dean let out a chuckle. It might have been out of amusement, but he wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet.

“Not bad. But the problem is in your fingers. Here, let me show you.” Dean walked over so he was standing behind you and in attempting to fix your posture. He reached out his hand and grabbed your wrist that was resting the stick on. He dragged it backwards so your fingers were now just resting on the edge of the table and laid out almost flat. "It's all about how you position the index finger and the thumb. You see," Dean talked you through the steps, making you realize he was closer than you thought. You swallowed slightly as you felt him move the fingers so they were holding the tip of the stick at a better angle. "That should help guide it a bit better."

You listened to what he told you, and trying again, you hit the cue ball perfectly, sending all fifteen pool balls to scatter across the table. You broke out into a smile as you turned your head to the side Dean was leaning over, getting ready to thank him for how easy he made it out to be. But in doing so, you realized how close he was to you, and how his fingers were still on yours, making your smile begin to fade slightly as you felt your heart start to beat faster. The both of you found yourselves staying in that position for a few seconds, unsure of what to do next.

"You know if your pool skills were half as good as your writing, maybe you wouldn't suck so much." You flinched at the sound of Cas' voice, making you realize what you were doing. Dean cleared his throat as he quickly stood back up, you did so a few seconds later. You gave the man a sarcastic smile, resisting the urge to smack him with the stick you were leaning on. "Did you tell everybody yet of your big story you're gonna do?"

Sam headed back over to the pool table, seeming to have leaned enough words to break the lesson you were having with Dean, and curios to find out what you were working on. “Really? What’s it about?” You fell silent for a moment as you contemplated of even telling them, knowing how all of them were going to take it in a different way. “It’s about...someone.” “Very specific. I think I heard of this ‘someone.’” Dean teased you, wondering what was making you suddenly grow so bashful. You looked away from him when he kept pushing for an answer. “Come on, Y/N. Tell us.” “No. It’s not that big of a deal.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “It’ll probably go nowhere.” “Fine. I’ll tell them. Our dear Y/N has officially lost her mind. She wants to write about the Red Hood.” Cas announced to your group of friends, making you dread how they were all going to take it. You stared at the ground for a moment as he kept on going what you had asked for your boss to do. “More specifically, she wants to interview him.” “Huh. Did you hear that, Dean?” Charlie asked her best friend when she heard something that seemed to contradict what you had said yesterday morning. The older Winchester suddenly felt four pairs of eyes on him, making him panic about this. It was like a nightmare come true. “Y/N wants to interview the Red Hood.” “Yeah, Charlie,” Dean mumbled as he let out a quiet chuckle, hoping nobody would see how nervous he was becoming for all the wrong reasons. “I heard her.” “Not exactly.” You said, correcting the redhead. Dean felt his heart suddenly starting to beat a million times a minute from what was going on. It was like a nightmare come true. "I want to find out who this person is and put a stop to the crap that they've be causing for the past couple of years."

“‘Crap’?” Charlie repeated after you. She seemed a little offended at the wording you used to describe someone who made this place a little safer. But you didn’t see it that way. “Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”

"Please. You can't tell me you're okay with some psycho running around this city and taking jobs away from the police—whose job is to protect us." You said, giving your personal feelings on how you felt about the vigilante to your close friends. "It's a matter of time before someone gets hurt, or worse, dead."

"While I agree that taking the law into your own hands is never a good idea," Sam said. “some people think of this person as a hero.”

“We’re not living in a comic book. There's no evil villain that's harassing the city that the police can't arrest. And heros don’t wear masks. It’s people like...Dean,” You looked over at your best friend that you thought was the perfect example you could make from what you were about to say next. “He stepped up and saved Charlie’s life. He’s a hero. Not this Red Hood creep.”

"Thank you. But it was nothing." Dean said. The mention of the night he got stabbed made his shoulder start to ache. He cleared his throat as he kept his composure, casually asking you a question he really didn't want the answer to. "So...What are you gonna do about this Red Hood?”

“I’m gonna expose them and put a stop to it.” You said in a matter-of-fact voice.

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[justsomelarryfics]

hello lovely, any Dom Louis sub harry fics?

Dom Louis/ Sub Harry

Sorted by length

(Note: I mostly did fics with plot. If you would like mainly pwp, please message me again)

Everyone needs someone who can handle their darker sides - In a world where the government dictates who you’ll spend the rest of your life with—Doms are matched by the age of 30, and subs are matched by the age of 18. Or Where One Direction consists of soft, unmatched Dom Niall, sweet Dom Liam, and strict Dom Louis and his sub, Harry. (one shot, 2k, rec whole series)

Perfect - Where Harry is Louis’ submissive and a paraplegic, but they still make things work. (one shot, 2k)

All Your Dreams are on Your Way - It was all becoming too much for Harry. The emotions, the frustration, the exhaustion. Or, the one where Harry just needs Louis to know what he needs. In this case, it’s punishment. (one shot, 5k)

Nothin’ Dirty ‘Bout It - Louis is up to something. He has been for a while now, really. It’s like he’s being careful with Harry, which he hasn’t been in a long time. He puts care into everything they do, of course, but somehow it’s different. He hasn’t been pushing Harry’s limits with anything lately. Harry hasn’t been reduced to tears in weeks, which he hadn’t previously realized was such a common occurrence (or that he needed it so much). It’s making him antsy. Or, Louis buys Harry a collar (one shot, 7k)

Something Unpredictable - Harry peers inside the gift bag, but all he sees is stuffing paper, the room too dark to see anything else. After turning on the lamp at the corner of his desk, Harry takes out the stuffing paper, then feels around for what’s inside. What he comes back with surprises him so much that he nearly drops it, clapping his hand over his mouth after a small sound comes out. Office AU where Harry plans a Secret Santa Christmas Party for his office floor. What he hadn’t planned on, was some certain gifts that make him blush like crazy. Also featuring Mr. Tomlinson, The Boss Man; Zayn, Louis’ best friend and company co-owner; Niall, Harry’s cheeky mate; and Liam, the oblivious sweetheart. (one shot, 19k, not really dom/sub until the end)

Even If It’s Just Tonight - By turning the suitcase around, Harry at least found out the name of the sex toy loving stranger. Louis Tomlinsonltomlinson@hotmail.com ORLouis and Harry happen to switch their suitcases in the airport’s bathroom and it’s possibly the best mistake Harry has ever made. (chaptered, complete, 26k)

Haven** - “I take it you’re not a new student?”“What?” Harry mumbles, caught up in the way his eyes are quite literally sparkling in the light. “Oh—No. Not a student.”“Are you a sub?” Louis asks.Harry clenches his hands into fists, holding them behind his back as he stumbles a bit. “I don’t, uh—I mean. I’ve never really gotten a chance to be a true sub, you know? My ex-partners were always scared they’d hurt me. But, like—If I trusted someone a lot, and if we used a, a safeword. And talked about, you know, boundaries, then—Yes, yeah, I-I’m a sub.”Louis’ eyes are so wide, his cheeks puffing out in the effort to not burst into laughter.“Oh shit, oh my god,” Harry whispers. “You meant—Oh god.” (one shot, 35k)

Reduce Me To A Pleading Cry (Break The Skin and Tantalize) - As the CEO of Styles & Styles, Harry Styles cuts a brooding and handsome figure at the helm of a very successful business. His reputation for intensity is well known, but you would be intense, too, if you had to work numbers all day, give countless orders, and conduct endless meetings. When all you really want to do at night–ache to do–is give away the reins, let someone else make the decisions, be ordered around for once, just–let go. Harry has reached his breaking point when one touch from a man whose very stance commands attention leads him back to a place he thought he’d never return. Or Harry is a broody submissive boss, Louis is a natural dom who works in the mail room at Styles & Styles, Niall is a matchmaking oracle, and a slender, dark haired man stands mute at the coffee stand encouraging others to spill their secrets. (one shot, 37k, first in series)

Wrap Your Arms Around Me Till Your Knuckles Are Burning White - In a world where human trafficking is legal, 19 year old Harry Styles surrenders his freedom to the Cooperative Affiliation of Human Exchange, aka CAHE. One week later, 25 year old Louis Tomlinson of Tomlinson Enterprises, attends ‘The Auction.’ Let the bidding begin. or au where Louis’ in a bidding war against Simon Cowell and ends up winning the best prize of all. (one shot, 58k)

Loving You Is Free** - Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn’t been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry. (chaptered, complete, 67k, first in series)

Like an Endless Summer** - “You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles. “I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time…I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.” — Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun. (chaptered, complete, 87k, mostly fluff and pining but there is some dom/sub and I had to include it bc it’s one of my all time favs, also has a kinky sequel)

Satyriasis - Satyriasis (/,satɪˈrʌɪəsɪs/): Excessive, often uncontrollable sexual desire and behavior by a man. Harry Styles, a seventeen year-old boy, is used to be humiliated by his boyfriend for having peculiar tastes. These include being highly feminine and loving wearing panties. Louis Tomlinson, an experienced sexologist, is determined to treat what Harry was taught to consider a problem, which soon becomes a virtue for both of them. OR The story where Harry is a hypersexual teenager who has an appointment with one of the most prestigious sexologists to help him with his problem. (chaptered, incomplete, 112k, also on wattpad)

Monopolize Me** - Harry thought he could spend his simple life as a cow farmer, but Desmond had other plans.  When Desmond uses blackmail, for reasons unbeknownst to Harry, he finds himself lost in the giant city of New York as next in line to run his father’s company… At least until he meets Louis.Louis’ sole purpose in life has been to make his business succeed.  Harry doesn’t think that’s an issue until he finds out Louis is CEO of a company much larger than Harry could ever imagine.Louis struggles to balance his filthy business ways with an honest relationship with Harry while pushing his company to be the global leader. Between publicly humiliating Harry as his competitor during the day and dominating Harry as his lover behind closed doors; he might just monopolize Harry in the process.Harry has to leave more than just past behind if he ever hopes to please both his father and Louis.  Finding himself in a forbidden love with extreme tastes pays out better than staying lost in New York.BDSM: Bondage/Discipline * Dominance/Submission * Sadism/MasochismAU blend where stockbrokers on Wall Street and CEO’s in the tech industry are basically the same thing. (on wattpad!! 54 parts, incomplete)

Stockholm Syndrome - “I like you like that.” The voice was husky but bore a slightly high pitch. Harry jerked as fingers threaded into his hair. “So soft, ” the voice purred as Harry’s breathing spiked and his chest rose up and down quickly from the onslaught of adrenaline whizzing around his veins and his nipples peaked of their own accord at the tactility of his captor. Harry realised his headscarf was no longer wrapped around his head taming his curls. In fact, he began to consider that it was in fact the same material as being used to bind his eyes closed. He briefly wondered why the stranger hadn’t gagged him but it was so remote out here even if Harry screamed his lungs out he had no hope of being heard. And because he didn’t yet know if this person- this man by the sounds of things- was intending to hurt him or not, he figured shouting around and trying to break free were not his priority options. He had to find out more, if he could. He had to find out who this was and more importantly, what they wanted. (locked, chaptered, complete, 208k, honestly entirely smut)

[meogeosseo]

AU: mc, a girl from the 21st century, is transported back in time where she meets the rfa in an ancient korea-esque world

Continue exploring this AU in this masterlist!

MC - the yellow hibiscus of milae. a girl claiming to come from ‘milae’ (future), which the RFA mistakenly assume to be a foreign country. its unknown how she arrived at the kingdom of han, but is taken under the wing of the RFA. she can communicate with the others well despite the difference in... well, the times, but she is considered illiterate because she cannot write or read hanja.

Jumin - the first prince of the han kingdom. his father has many concubines, though his father is never interested in them for long. this makes it difficult for the other ministers/advisers to convince jumin to take a wife (or a concubine) because he disagrees with his father on this matter. many ministers have tried to set up ‘auditions’ for local women to enter the palace and become a concubine-to-be, but prince jumin always mysteriously manages to cancel these events every time. he has a beloved horse named elizabeth the third that V tamed and gave as a gift.

Jaehee - prince jumin’s personal ‘eunuch’ who helps him handle political affairs. while the other palace servants are blissfully unaware that someone so ‘intelligent and- wow, he can do judo, so manly!’ is a woman in disguise, only jumin and the RFA are aware of her gender. 

ZEN - a top actor from the capital city’s theatre house. whenever he performs, the building is more packed than usual. he is considered the house’s greatest asset, and he flaunts his charms because he knows he’s handsome. a romanticist and a flirt, but is also an actor void of scandalous rumors. because of his popularity, he has been asked to perform on public holiday celebrations, festivals and for events within the palace itself. even though he doesn’t live in the palace, he has close relations with everyone in the RFA.

Seven - the infamous general seven, who would prefer to strategise in the confines of the palace rather than be in the action, but will be there on the field if he is needed and when help is needed most. he is the fastest horserider and has an unhealthy obsession with jumin’s horse. although he ‘sides’ with prince jumin, he is part of a mysterious group of aristocrats. Seven is aware of the ‘Milae’, but doesn’t point this out and goes along with the assumption that it is a foreign country.

Yoosung - a young man who entered the palace and is studying for the royal examination to become a scholar, though his dream is to become a doctor, inspired by the kind heart of his adoptive cousin, rika. despite his lower rank in the palace, he is treated well by the other members of the RFA, breaking societal hierarchy boundaries. jumin in particular shows interest in taking him as another eunuch.

V - a high ranking aristocrat scholar who is the childhood friend of prince jumin. they say he could have been a general if he wasn’t so soft-hearted. 

Rika - the founder of the RFA, a beautiful maiden of the han kingdom who wielded immense knowledge and a big heart. she mysteriously disappeared after the second party she held to help breach the societal gap between the commoners and the aristocrats. she is also the founder of Mint Eye, a nomadic group who have created their base in the empty but harsh grasslands of the han kingdom. they have isolated themselves from society, whom they have labeled as a danger to their group. she is aware of the ‘Milae’.

Unknown - an assassin agent of Mint Eye, though he rarely spends time in the nomadic group, and lurks in the shadows of the han kingdom capital. he jeopardises seven and jumin’s attempts to solve anything - forging alliances with other countries, solving conflicts between the citizens and the palace members - all by taking out the messengers (bird or human) out. he is aware of the ‘milae’, and brought MC to the world in the first place through unknown means.

Ray - another young scholar studying for the royal examination. while he occasionally disappears at times, he is known as a quiet and shy individual who keeps to himself. not part of the RFA but befriended MC out of curiosity.

Vanderwood - a fellow member of the mysterious aristocratic group alongside seven. since seven doesn’t appreciate his own room being cleaned by the maids and the eunuchs, so nobody tends to visit the man, leaving vanderwood’s daily visits a mystery to the other palace members. he carries a whip with him at all times, and threatens to beat seven with it if he’s too slow on working for the group instead of the RFA (or reading dumb books he found in the old libraries) 

ECHO - the stage name of the theatre house’s top actress. her goal is to be regarded even higher than ZEN. if she cannot be his exclusive acting partner, then she’ll find other means to topple him and take over the stage.

Glam - one of Emperor Han’s concubines. she wormed her way into the palace by establishing a good political connection between the han kingdom’s officials and her own aristocratic family.

Sarah - a woman vying to be jumin’s concubine or first wife.