#hes still allowed to need time to process and grow closer to her on his own terms

[buried-in-autumn-leaves]

My favourite thing about writing Louie and Della's dynamic is the complexity, trying to find the line between truly familial energy and platonic energy. Because I really don't see younger Louie being able to accept a maternal figure (WHICH EVERYONE ALWAYS TAKES AS ME LIKE THINKING THEYRE WORST ENEMIES WHICH I DONT THINK, THEY LOVE EACH OTHER BUT ITS COMPLICATED) but he looks up to her. There's this aura of respect and understanding, but it's tainted by bitterness knowing the distance between them was caused by something that was preventable.

[groverapologist]

New Athens, a Percy Jackson HeadCanon:

Percy discussed with Annabeth how he wished New Rome was closer to Manhattan, or that Camp Halfblood had its own similar city so that he could be closer to his family and hometown. this sparked an idea for Annabeth.

after finishing her olympus project, she began to work on her pitch for New Athens, a safehaven for Greek and Roman demigods to grow old and live their lives in right next to Camp Halfblood. Though it was Percy who sparked the idea, the idea became so much larger and more significant than an offhand wish.

with the help of chiron and dionysus, annabeth gets her pitch approved, and work begins.

demigods of all godly parenthood have their chances to shine in the process;

Athena kids are mainly city planners, civil engineers, and architects.

Hephaestus kids are mechanics, constructors, and advisers for the civil engineers.

Demeter kids are mainly agricultural engineers, and alongside Persephone kids, also environmental engineers.

Hermes and Iris kids are transportation engineers, and Hermes kids also focus on hospitality of Roman demigods and hunters.

Apollo kids are healthcare executives and administrators, and together with Dionysus kids, they focus on entertainment.

Aphrodite kids focus on the sociological aspects of urban planning.

Ares kids focus on safety and protection.

There are much more jobs as well, some predominantly run by other demigods (Hypnos, Hecate, etc), and some run by a mixture.

While the jobs are predominantly separated by lineage, any demigod is allowed to work any job they desire.

Frank and Hazel also send in Roman volunteers to provide assistance in the development process. In their words, "You need as many hands as possible to build a city from scratch".

Leo worked considerably on this as this was his chance to be in a place where he felt he belonged. It also felt like a way to honour Jason's legacy as Jason lived in New Rome but chose Camp Halfblood. Leo wholeheartedly believes that had Jason been alive, he would want nothing more than for Camp Halfblood to be a liveable and lively place.

Leo builds a monument in Jason's memory. It is engraved with the words "Lover, Brother, Friend, Praetor, Hero. Symbol of Roman and Greek Unity. Lightning Boy." When it was first revealed, he and Piper sat there all day, holding each other.

while piper offers all the help she can, she never once seriously considers living in New Athens. while her demigod lineage is something so integral to who she is, she would rather live in the outside world. Leo and Annabeth understand.

clarisse works on a monument for all heroes lost in the battle of manhattan. even though it was her idea, it still hurts to see Silena's name engraved on the marble.

dionysus pretends to hate it, despite having played a huge role in convincing the gods (especially Zeus) that this was a great idea. he never takes credit for that. annabeth only ever finds out through chiron, months after they started work.

the project takes years to complete, but it makes annabeth's world. she considers it one of her greatest achievements, if not the greatest; she has helped her people and the future generations to come. this work cannot be forgotten. her love for demigods is written all over the city, and so many generations will see it.

percy opens a small candy shop the first moment he can. it mostly sells blue candy.

leo finally opens a garage, becoming the best mechanic of New Athens.

annabeth continues working on architecture, helping build any new buildings and working on any expansions.

grover and juniper build a family together there, their home near the woods. percy, annabeth, and grover stay close the entire time.

piper visits often. she and leo always visit Jason's monument when she does, and they leave flowers every time.

will and nico own an apartment. will's still a doctor. nico becomes a teacher. it's a surreal feeling to be able to help kids feel safe and happy, something he did not often get at their age. they've adopted two cats together.

when hazel and frank have the opportunity, they visit as well. they visit nico and will whenever they can, and percy and annabeth and leo and piper as much as possible too. despite being tied down to new rome, they still love New Athens.

reyna and thalia only visit with the hunters, but both go to jason's monument together. they don't have to talk to understand each other.

chiron is happy. in his thousands of years of working at camp, he had never had the ability to see his pupils live long lives. even if they'd lived to their 80s+, they never did so at camp. it's a new experience for him, and to all greek halfbloods who could now feel safe as they grew older in a place that accepted them with open arms.

[dulcecherub]

Igual Que Un Angel

Chapter Nine

Synopsis: Sofia is pregnant, and the last thing she needs is for Rafe to find out. It’s her dirty secret, it’s not like he’s barging down her door to speak to her. He looks as if he’s done with her for good. Will outside forces, force Sofia to confront the situation at hand. Or will she be able to keep this secret up? Not like, her belly isn’t growing everyday or anything.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

“Rafe, please. Slow down!” Sofia tries to walk down the flight of stairs as quickly as possible. But also trying to not fall. She doesn’t want to hurt herself or the baby. But Rafe seems too angry to stop.

“Rafe!”

“Don’t. Sofia. Don’t.” He turns; his icy glare on her. Sofia halts, his stare freezing her in place. She stands on the second to last step. She sees the tear slowly rolling down his cheek. “What the fuck Sofia?”

The door swings open again, Sofia looks up and sees Topper. “I’m so, so, so sorry. I didn’t think she would do something like this. I didn’t know. I promise the both of you. I swear—”

“Oh yeah? Look how that turned out Topper! I knew it! I knew I shouldn’t have—” Rafe squeezes his eyes shut, his fist on either side of his face. He finally opens them again, eyeing the both of them with a glare.

“Rafe, just let me explain.” Sofia says, her eyes searching his face. Her hand instinctively reaching out to touch him. But then dropping it as soon as she realizes. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a good idea right now, she thinks.

“Explain? Explain what? That you’re pregnant? That you’ve been hiding this big secret from me? Is it even mine?! Huh?!” The vein on his head looks like it’s about to pop out. “Tell me!”

Sofia flinches, her eyes staring at the ground. She blinks, “It’s yours, I promise you. The baby is yours.”

She peers back up at him; through her lashes. Her heart racing. His lips are in a thin line. His shoulders seem to sag from relief. But as quickly as it came, it slowly turns to anger. His jaw clenched; his eyes narrowing.

“How long?”

“What?” She seems taken aback by his question, she’s blinking rapidly; trying to make sense of it.

“How long have you’ve been pregnant Sofia? How long?” He demands, he steps closer to her. Sofia can’t meet his eyes.

“Six months.”

“Six months? Six months? And this is how I had to find out?” Rafe begins to pace around, his hands hitting his temples. As if he’s trying to process this. He whispers to himself. “This is explains why,Phil wouldn’t tell me where you were. How could I have been so stupid.?”

Sofia blinks, she didn’t know Rafe had gone to Phil. Looking for her.

“Hey man, I think—”

“I could give a shit, about what you think right now Top!”

Sofia flinched again, her eyes closing.

“Rafe, come on.” Topper says, Sofia turns to look at him. He looks as remorseful as he sounds. She almost feels bad but also she can’t help but feel angry. Angry that Topper had allowed Ruthie to go this far.

“No! You—you don’t get it! Do you?” Rafe begins to pace again. Ruthie finally comes through the door. Her smirk still plastered on her face. She manages to have a drink in her hand. Sofia eyes narrow. “And you?! You’re a fucking bitch!”

“Rafe, don’t talk to her like that.” Topper says sternly, Rafe only scoffs. Ruthie smirk doesn’t fade. She leans against the door, her head cocked to the side. Topper regards her with a look of distrust.

“No, he’s right. This was very bitchy of you. But what else is new?” Sofia says, her voice cold.

“Says the one who hid a whole pregnancy.” The slam of the door; makes them all turn to look. Rafe had stormed out. Sofia quickly rushes the last two steps to follow him. Not giving Ruthie anymore of her time. She can hear Topper getting upset at her, but she doesn’t pause to hear what he says.

Rafe hand clenched onto his chest. He was going to have a baby. A baby. He was going to be a dad and Sofia tried to keep it from him.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. It explained the sweater. She’d been wearing sweaters when working at the club. It explained why she didn’t answer his questions. Why she dodged them. She’d been hiding this big secret and he was none the wiser. He felt like a complete idiot.

“Load of bullshit!” He yelled, at no one in particular.

“Rafe please!” Sofia says, from behind him. She’d finally reached him, she wobbled almost towards him.

“Why? Was I that terrible towards you! First Groff and Hollis. Now this?”

“I—”

“Were you ever planning to tell me? Huh?” His nose scrunched up, tears spilling down his face. His voice shook, he couldn’t believe this.“Sofia, come on. I deserve to know the truth. Were you ever going to tell me?”

Sofia placed her hand onto her belly, tears springing from her eyes. She looked remorseful but he didn’t care. How dare she try and keep something this big from him? Was he even worth anything to her?

“No, no I wasn’t going to tell you.” Her voice comes out hoarsely, Rafe lets out a deep breath. His hands going back to his temples, tapping.

“Did you even think about me? Or, or was I so irrelevant to you? That I had to find out through Ruthie dragging me to a “party.” This is complete and utter bullshit Sof." Sofia quickly shook her head, her hand reaching out to him. His eyes fell back to her swollen stomach. God, she wasn’t just pregnant. She was extremely pregnant, he could see the bump through her floral dress. He took a step back away from her.

“I-I didn’t know what to do. And—and you wouldn’t talk to me. So I thought—”

He began pacing back and forth, his hands clenched into fist. His knuckles turning white. He stops to glare at her.

“You thought what!?! That I wouldn’t want to be in my baby’s life? Like I’ll abandon them?! Sofia, what the actual fuck?”

“I didn’t say that!” Sofia says, stepping closer to him. “You iced me out, Rafe!”

“Because you betrayed me!”

“What was I supposed to do?!” Sofia says, her hand that’s resting on her stomach, curls a bit. Almost like she’s seeking comfort in her baby. Their baby. Rafe nose scrunches up again.

“You were supposed to talk to me! Not hide my baby from me for six months!” Rafe kicked at a nearby tree, his anger building inside of him. But also, he couldn’t help feeling so hurt. The idea that she had a baby; his baby. Inside of her this entire time. And Ruthie had to be the one who made him find out. Especially in such a fucked up and cruel way, he couldn’t help the way more tears kissed his cheeks. He let out a growl of frustration.

“Damnit Sofia, that’s my kid too!”

“I know that! Okay! I know!”

“So why hide it from me?!” His vein feels like it’s popping out his neck. But he can’t suppress the anger that he feels. The hurt that keeps tugging at his chest. “Was I that bad towards you?!”

“I can’t trust you! You were always getting so mad all the time. At everyone around you. It was hard—” Rafe cuts her off.

“You don’t trust me? You don’t trust me? I don’t trust you!”

Sofia eyes widen, her brows furrowing together. Her head hanging low. Her chin begins to tremble. But he could see a shift because suddenly her chin rises. Her eyes narrow.

“You hurt me first. You ruined my trust in you first. I’m sick of you acting like a damn victim, Rafe! You told Ruthie I meant nothing to you! That we weren’t together. How I was just some hook up to you. That I was just a fucking Pogue who didn’t live with you. Because you have fucking standards! So don’t stand there—”

“What?” His features move momentarily to confusion. He scratches his cheek, grimacing at her.

“I heard you. I heard you talking to Topper and Ruthie. At the pelican yacht club.”

It dawns on him slowly, fuck. He shakes his head, he reaches out for her now.

“You weren’t meant to hear that.”

“Oh?”

“I-I was drunk, okay. I didn’t know what I was— I didn’t know what I was saying.” Sofia narrows her eyes even further, her jaw setting. He can’t help but look at her swollen stomach, then back to her face. He can’t help but think that she looks adorable pregnant. How pretty she looked, his heart clenched. “This isn’t about that. This is about you hiding your pregnancy from me. Don’t try to change the subject.” His voice softens briefly. Seeing her like that, softening him.

Sofia ran her hands into her curls, her eyes looking away from him briefly. “I was scared to tell you. I didn’t think—I didn’t think you would want to be apart of our life.” She whispers, her hand going over her belly. Rafe shakes his head.

There was a pause between them. Both of them afraid to speak; afraid to say the wrong thing any further. Not wanting to use anymore ammo to hurt the other.

“You can’t—you can’t keep me from them. From her.” He says stepping closer. His knees giving out from under him; he kneels in front of her. His hands on her swollen stomach. He can’t help but place a kiss on her stomach. It happens so unexpectedly, that a gasp leaves Sofia’s lips. This was his child too, this was someone he had created with Sofia. She couldn’t keep him out of the babies life. His baby. Their baby.

“Rafe—”

“Please, please. I-I can’t let you do that. Sofia, please.” A sob escaping his lips, tears sliding down his face. He doesn’t even that snot is making its way out of his nose. All he cares about is Sofia and their baby. No matter how much pain Sofia had caused him. The love he feels for her; won’t leave him. The love he can’t help extend towards their unborn child.

“Rafe, get off of me.” He shakes his head, still sobbing. Holding onto her closer. His jaw clenching.

“She’s my baby too, Sof. She’s mine too.” He buries his head against her stomach, his hands still pressed onto her stomach. Then he feels it. He feels the baby kick. His eyes widening. Their baby.

Her hand lands on the back of his head and he can’t help but cry. “Six months Sofia. Six months.”

“I know.” Her voice cracks, “I know.”

Sofia walks with him as they both decide to talk; while strolling around the neighborhood.

“What’s her name?” His voice finally finds him again.

“I decided on Aurora.” She says, walking alongside him. Her eyes ahead of her. He nods, his eyes moving towards her.

“That’s pretty, it means dawn.” His eyes land on her swollen stomach again. How big her belly was now. How long she’d managed to keep this secret. Sofia smiles down, staring at the baby bump.

“Yeah I know. That’s why I gave her that name.”

The silence is awkward, it’s been so long since the two of them have been alone. He doesn’t know what to say. How to make things; less weird between them.

“Sarah and I are trying to get back Wheezie. She and I uh finally made up. But I bet you already knew that.” Sofia smiles at him softly.

“Yeah I know. I’ve seen you with her. I didn’t know about the Wheezie thing. How’s that been going?”

“Hard. I didn’t realize my past was going to be the reason, I might not get to see my little sister. Or have custody of her. Rose is fighting back harder than I thought she would.”

He’s surprise he’s opening up to her about this. He thought he would completely ice her out. But Sofia still has a hold on him. —It feels nice; letting go of this weight that he’d been holding on too. It felt nice to talk about it with someone other than Sarah and John B. And the lawyers.

“Rose, as in your step mom?” Rafe nods.

“Sarah and I thought she would at least let her see us. But she doesn’t trust us. It’s not like we trust her.”

“It’ll all work out. In due time.” She says, he misses that. How easily she could soothe his worries. Like she knew everything could get better.

Silence catches up to them again. There’s so much left unsaid between them.

“Sofia—I promise you—I didn’t mean what I told Ruthie and Topper. I was, I was being a coward. I didn’t want anyone knowing how I felt about you at the time. It was stupid and immature. And I should have been better.”

Sofia spares him a glance, her hand rubbing her upper arm. “Why did you say it? Were you ashamed of me?”

Rafe shakes his head quickly, “No, no, of course not. I was drunk and I just hated how Ruthie always tried to nose her way into things. It was just— I didn’t want her ruining something that was special to me.”

Rafe eyes softened as he continued to watch Sofia. He’d thought he would have been more angry. Wanting nothing to do with her. But she’d always felt like the missing piece. After winning the blue crown and getting his money back. He realized how much he didn’t care for those things.

Because she wasn’t there.

“I wish I hadn’t reacted so rashly. I was so upset and then I thought. I thought if I hurt you. I’ll feel better about what you said. But I didn’t. It made me feel ten times worse. Hollis had asked my dad to help her, get you to sign the deal. I had told him it was a bad idea. That it was dishonest. I didn’t want to scam you.” She sniffled as she wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “Then I heard what you said and I agreed to do it. She gave us money, but I didn’t care for it. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I know it sounds stupid. It sounds like I’m lying. But once it was all set and done.” Her eyes meet his. “I hated myself for it.”

His voice hitches; he can’t help but look down at the ground. “I love you, that hasn’t gone away Sof. I still love you.”

“Rafe…”

“I want to be in her life too. I want to be in yours. I know you don’t trust me. I know our trust in each other is broken. But I want to try.”

Sofia stops walking, her hand crossing over her chest. Her baby bump in the way. So she rests her hand on her stomach once more. It’s the only comfortable way for her too.

“I’m sorry I kept this away from you. I wanted to tell you. But—but I was also being a coward. My cousin Lupita,” Sofia sighed deeply, “she tried to tell me to tell you. I mean my belly was going to eventually grow more and more. I knew I couldn’t hide her from you forever. I just felt… stuck.”

Rafe scratches the back of his ear; boyishly. “I wouldn’t have pushed you away.” He shook his head, “I wouldn’t have.”

“I’ve missed you.” Sofia says, her eyes searching his. He can’t help but pout as his eyes soften. His tears were dry but his eyes still filmed with tears that wouldn’t shed.

“I’ve missed you too. I know it sounds foolish, I know you broke my trust. But—but I can’t help how much I love you. No matter how much I try, I can’t ever be mad at you.”

Sofia tears finally slip down her face, Rafe wants to reach over and wipe the tears away. But he hesitates.

“I’m so sorry Rafe.”

He shook his head, he doesn’t care how much of a fool this makes him. He doesn’t care. Because all he wants is Sofia and Aurora. He’s never been so sure of anyone in his life. Sofia has always been it for him. His baby now added to that equation.

“You don’t—you don’t need to keep apologizing—okay. You don’t need to keep explaining yourself.”He moves closer, no longer hesitate. His hand cupping her cheek. Her eyes close, her tears slipping down her cheeks. His hands reaches up to swipe it away from her cheeks, his hand gently.

“You don’t have to go through this alone.”

A sob escapes her lips, his forehead rests against hers. “I’m here. I’m here.” His fingers continue to wipe away at her tears.

“Okay. Okay.” He softly kisses her forehead. Before resting his against hers.

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: ...

Leona: *has been "subtly" observing them*

MC: ...

Falena's wife: ...

Falena's wife: Back to our discussion.

MC: Yes. You're hoping that I would be of help to His Majesty now that his health is deteriorating.

Falena's wife: Yes. Would it be possible for you to extend his life?

MC: There are factors that we need to consider. Does he still want to rule this country?

Falena's wife: No. He wants to live longer so he would be able to witness Cheka and Liora grow up into fine princes, and your second child to be born.

MC: Hmm. I could strengthen his heart, however... He likes to eat things that aren't good for him.

Falena's wife: *chuckles* We could just instruct Kifaj to be strict on him.

MC: In that case, I will start on the treatment.

MC: How are you feeling, Your Majesty?

The king: I'm feeling great. *chuckles* I think I could yell better on Kifaj now.

Kifaj: And I will do better to ignore you if needed.

The king: Anyway, is it true there will be a second-born?

MC: It will not until two years, Your Majesty.

The king: Oh. It takes that long?

MC: Yes.

The king: Oh. I see. How come? Isn't pregnancy supposed to be nine months?

MC: It's different with transcendentals, Your Majesty.

The king: *sigh* Well then, I guess I have to wait that long.

The king: I wish it's a girl this time so the Kingscholar will have their little princess.

MC: ...

MC: A princess it is.

The king and Kifaj: ...

The king: That's wonderful! Kifaj! Buy everything that will suit our baby princess!

Kifaj: Yes, Your Majesty!

MC: Again, the baby will not be born until two years.

The king: That is fine! Knowing that it will be a princess is enough!

Leona: *staring sternly at them from behind*

MC: *carrying Liora*

Baby Liora: *seems curious why his father is staring*

MC: What is it, Leona?

Leona: *walks and moves in front of them* The request you've been trying to delay.

MC: ...

MC: Sharing your mana to me is out of the question.

Leona: Tch. But I want to help you and I don't want to see not waking up for days again.

MC: ...

MC: How long will you try to insist on this?

Leona: I don't know. Maybe until you give me an alternative?

MC: ...

MC: I could give you one, but it would cost you a great inconvenience.

Leona: What is it?

MC: Cater our daughter for me.

Leona: ...

Leona: How?

MC: Like how I catered Liora. I will transfer the seed in your heart.

MC: You must keep your emotions stable.

Leona: Alright. I can do that.

MC: ...

MC: Alright. Come closer.

Leona: Yes- Mmp!

MC: *pulls themselves away* Give her back to me after two years. The same way that I did just now.

Leona: *blushing* That's a kiss you-

MC: I wouldn't call it as such. Now leave and stop bothering me for today.

Baby Liora: *waves at his father*

Leona: ...

Ruggie: *almost got choked on his food*

Ruggie: *then laughs*

Leona: *frowns at him*

Ruggie: That's a lot of trust, man. To think that MC allowed you to take care of your daughter.

Leona: Yes. But in the end, they're still the one who's going to birth it.

Ruggie: Though, are you sure you're up for the job? Two years is quite a long time, you know?

Leona: Yes. What do you take me for?

Ruggie: Impatient, easily annoyed-

Leona: *glares at him*

Ruggie: That. That's what I'm talking about. MC has always been cool-headed that's why Prince Liora has no complications and they carried him for three and a half-years.

Ruggie: I wonder how you are going to manage that.

Leona: It's my future daughter we're talking about here, Ruggie. I will do everything for her.

Ruggie: Okay. Why don't we start first by you eating vegetables?

Leona: *scowls*

Ruggie: It's for the baby princess. *amused by his expression*

Falena: I'm glad you have entrusted the development process to Leona.

MC: He wanted to help so I let him.

Falena: *happy sigh* I could already imagine what my niece would be like. *chuckles* *is imagining a snobbish baby and will frown at the sight of anyone*

MC: *knows what he's thinking and couldn't agree more*

[pearlsandpemberly]

shared breath - levi x reader (18+)

Summary:

Levi's last chance at life allows him to love her the way he's always wanted to.

Genre: Light Smut, Established Relationship, Romantic Fluff

POV: Third Person, f!reader

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51501670

Note: This can be read as a follow-up to my other fic 'until then', but can be read on its own.

 “Do you need help?”

Levi doesn’t look at her, hands still occupied with his shirt buttons. “I haven’t lost all my fingers now, have I?” is his quiet response.

He hears her walk closer to him and exhales softly through the nose when she places a hand on the back of his neck. “You and I both know you could still kill a man with your eye shut – I also know that you usually undress yourself a lot faster than you’re doing now.”

Levi shrugs a shoulder, hands coming back down to his lap. They are ensnared with the slightest of tremors – a rarity, despite everything his body has endured. He curls his fingers inward, clenching his fists.

She doesn’t move, threading her own fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. The familiarity of her touch still affects Levi as it has always done, the shiver up his spine as prevalent as it was when he first took her hand in his. He tips his head back slightly, leaning into her touch.

 “Do it,” he says. “Please.”

 “Ah, manners.” She comes around, kneeling in front of his chair. “So easy to forget that you know what they are.”

Levi huffs but finds his words lost when her hands come to finish the job he barely started, the pads of her fingers brushing against the cotton of his white shirt. He looks at her in a simple white nightgown, the small straps of lace kissing both of her collarbones. Her face is illuminated by the warm glow of the candlelight and once again Levi finds his mouth drying up, feeling his heart thud a little faster as she exposes more of his chest. Her expression morphs, a shy smile forming on her lips. As her cheeks darken, Levi’s do too, as he realises she can feel his pulse quickening.

Her movements slow as she comes to the bottom of his shirt and he sees that her hands are slightly unsteady as she pulls the fabric out of the waistband of his trousers. It is something she has done for Levi countless times before, and yet…

The thickness of the air grows as she looks up to him, tilting her head to the side. “I’ll leave you to do the rest,” she says quietly, raising herself off the floor, ready to step back.

Levi takes a hold of her wrist, keeping her in place. “Have I shown you what this new chair can do?”

She shakes her head, smoothing her gown.

Although his hands are still unstable, Levi turns to the side of his chair, pulling at several mechanisms until the left arm disconnects from the chair. He places it down and moves to the right side, repeating the process. When he’s done, Levi looks to her to see her raised eyebrows and intrigued smile.

 “Was this Onyakopon’s idea?” she asks.

Levi swallows and takes a hold of her hand again. “It was mine.”

One of her eyebrows raise a little higher. “Yours?”

He nods. “There was something I wanted to be able to do,” he whispers.

She understands without him having to say more, but she waits for him to pull her closer before she straddles Levi, hitching her legs and settling cautiously onto his lap. Her hands find their usual place on his chest and his come to settle on her waist, squeezing her gently.

The warmth of her body stokes the hunger building up within Levi and his hesitation begins to dissipate. Her sweet smile and shining eyes only makes him want more of it, more of her.

She shuffles further up his thighs, skirt bunching up so her own are beginning to show. Her breath fans shakily over Levi’s lips and her eyes flicker down to glance at his bare skin.

He taps her side gently. “Distracted?” he teases, though it comes out a little hoarse.

 “Can you judge me?” she responds, looking back up to him.

 “I do, only because this is not a new sight for you.”

She flicks his sternum playfully. “I know, I know. I just…”

As her fingers cling onto his shirt, Levi leans in and kisses her.

Although it is another thing that is not new, the flame that ignites within the pair touches them with the same sharpness that it always does. His hands run up her back and shoulder blades, pulling her flush against him, intoxicated and entranced by the beautiful being that he can call his. When she sighs against his mouth, his fingers flex, moving down to grab onto her plush hips, willing her to move just a little – and when she does, Levi lets out his own muffled sound of relief.

Bliss is not easy to come by, despite living in the most peaceful era of his entire life, but whenever she’s with him, he’s a step closer.

The candlelight flickers, the heat builds, and the world blurs as they lose themselves in their own private universe sealed within these four walls. Their sounds become less controlled and their movements become more bold: Levi comes to run his hands up and down her soft thighs, fingers splayed; she tickles the sides of his ribs as she pushes her hips down against his, furrowing her brow with restrained desire. They’re waves in the ocean, pushing and pulling in sync, their emotions ebbing and flowing alongside each other with practised ease; and yet it is unique, somewhat in unchartered waters, and the thrill of anticipation mingles nicely with their shared adoration.

Levi is the first to pull back, though not too far; their eyes meet and it takes all he has not to pull her as close to him as he possibly can. Her pupils are dilated, her cheeks red, her chest heaving, her lips slightly swollen. She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and he places a thumb on it, taking a hold of her chin.

 “I want to make love to you.”

The hitch of breath that escapes her mouth would have made Levi smile if he weren’t so nervous. He rubs a circle into her upper thigh, only just glancing the skin under where her skirt ends.

 “Are you sure?” she asks when she finds her voice, gaze fixed on his good eye.

 “I am,” Levi affirms. “Only if you would like to.”

She doesn’t need to think, but she takes pause, scanning his expression. When she comes to hold onto his wrist, Levi notes that her fingers are trembling – she is just as nervous as he is.

After a moment more, she nods. “Yes – please.”

If Levi were still in the state where he could pick her up and take her to the bed, he would do it that instant. However, it’s not going to be that easy, and whilst there’s no rush, he wants it so badly that he can’t quite help the quick swiftness in which he pulls her back towards him, letting out a groan when their kiss deepens almost instantly. Her own desperation shows in how she wraps her arms around his neck, their chests pressed together, a whine trapped in her throat. Their mutual desire becomes more pronounced by the second and Levi wills it not to be over before it’s begun, though it is hard to concentrate on that when she is everywhere.

This time, it is her who breaks away, placing one hand over his heart. “Would you like to move to the bed?” she murmurs, tone tentative but buzzing with eagerness.

Levi nods a little too vigorously, but he is not embarrassed.

Though walking any distance is greatly difficult – and some days next to near impossible – his legs decide to cooperate with him, though he still needs her to help him stand. Her hand holds his tightly, arm bent ready if he needs to support himself further. Together, they move slowly towards the wooden bed; she lets Levi brace himself as they reach the side and he crawls onto the mattress, coming to sit in the centre. She pauses before he tugs on her wrist with playful impatience, patting the space between his legs – she clambers carefully onto the bed, coming to sit in the gap, legs hooked over Levi’s, facing each other again. Levi takes his time admiring her, running his hands along her arms and shoulders, coming to play with one of her nightgown straps.

The couple can communicate through stares alone, but tonight is different. “May I?”

“Yes.”

The lace falls easily from her shoulder, resting halfway down her upper arm. Though it barely exposes anything new, the picture of her naked shoulders connecting to her neck lights something anew within Levi. Carefully, oh so carefully, he pulls her a little closer so he doesn’t have to strain – his lips caress her collarbones with a feather-light touch, grazing her skin gracefully as he listens to her, watching how her head tips back and how her chest rises and falls a little quicker. He can feel her burning underneath the thin material of her nightgown, her body yearning for him and only him.

As he trails up the column of her neck, leaving soft kisses and a delicate bite, she gasps out, hands tugging on this open shirt. “Can I take this off?”

Levi doesn’t reply, instead shrugging the cotton off, lips never leaving her skin. She helps, removing his shirt and pushing it warily onto the floor, though Levi is past the point of caring about it getting dirty or wrinkled. The way her soft hands dance over his chest, shoulders, and abdomen causes his concentration to slip, a noise of want escaping past his teeth.

In slow movements of clothes being removed, broken up by hushed questions and affirmations, Levi lies down naked, any self-consciousness slipping away as she lies next to him as exposed as he is, her gaze still fixed upon his face. A sight that is not unfamiliar but illuminated in a different context only opens Levi up to how he can love and appreciate her in so many different ways, and that privilege almost brings tears to his eyes. Her own are slightly glassy, and she moves his hair away from his face before kissing him again.

Their bodies press together, their hands exploring each other with cautious care as the warmth of the room encases them, the tenderness and sensuality clouding their minds and burning pleasantly under their skin as they come closer together still. An age passes before they find purchase on the most intimate parts of each other, but they’re in no rush – too many things are new in order to rush.

Both of them are trembling as they begin to learn how to make the other come undone – Levi, an Ackerman, always one who can do everything perfectly first try, has to fight off his doubt, concentrating on her alone. Every sound she makes, every furrow of her brow, every twist of her body sears into his memory and he chases that pleasure alone, the pleasure he derives from this sight being his to see, this experience being theirs to share. A sheen of perspiration layers over her skin and it enamours him. She watches him just as closely, smiling against his mouth whenever he grunts or hisses with gratification, whispering words of devotion and praise that travels straight through him and makes his face grow even hotter. When her name tumbles from his lips, she moans and it’s a melody that Levi wants to hear over and over again.

Everything keeps blurring at the edges and blood roars so loudly in Levi’s ears that time escapes him entirely and their actions become instinctual, and their bodies are moving and they’re whispering one more question to each other before his eyes fly open to see her atop of him, nails digging into his chest and eyes screwed shut. He holds onto her hips so tightly that he’s sure it will bruise her, but he can��t stop himself because they’re the closest two humans can possibly be and he might let go, and god he never wants to let her go.

It's slow and careful and hot and messy. The melding of their bodies from their connected lips to their flushed chests to their stirred sexes fall into a somewhat cohesive rhythm together, but neither worry themselves when they fall out of sync. They pant and moan with abandon, their tongues touching as they kiss each other senseless, both lost in the heat and emotion of everything. Levi feels himself slipping closer to a precipice and he wills himself to cling on a little longer, his fingers grabbing hold of any part of her he can find so he can keep himself there.

When she brings him to sit up with her, Levi wraps his arms around her middle and uses all his strength to help her move, leaving messy kisses over her breasts and not caring about how he’s beginning to lose control. Though his exhaustion, he pushes his hips up to meet her and almost falls over the edge when she cries out and tugs on his hair. He keeps it up, trailing a hand up to cup the back of her head, connecting their foreheads together, her gorgeous eyes staring straight back into his. Her name tumbles from Levi’s lips and then it doesn’t stop, the syllables tripping over themselves again and again as they guide each other to the edge of the precipice together.

And the light dulls because nothing shines as brightly as she does – they unravel together, a miniscule supernova exploding between them as they lose their breath in a fleeting moment that now only exists in their memories. All she can do is babble incoherently as she comes apart on top of him, her limbs becoming heavy as their movements slow.

And her name is all Levi can say, a song that is stuck on repeat, a sweet symphony that devolves into a choked refrain as tears stream down his cheeks and his throat seizes up. His lips find hers, and they are wet and sticky, but she doesn’t pull away as she clings to him tighter than before .

They stay like this for a time, catching their breaths and gazing at each other, rooting themselves in the seconds that they never thought they would get to have.

Pain and fatigue begins to weigh Levi down as the high slips away from him, but as always she is aware. She pulls away eventually, albeit reluctantly, and begins to make their space ready for rest, wiping him and then herself with a damp cloth, bringing him clean sleeping clothes, and moving to blow out the candles sans the one on their bedside. All the while, Levi watches her, the smallest smile on his face.

When she climbs into bed next to him, Levi wastes no time in taking her into his arms once more, coming to cup her face and kissing her cheeks one at a time. She chuckles, dipping her head as if she’s shy, and all of the love he holds for her increases tenfold. He tells her so and her cheeks go redder than they’ve done all night, just like they always do when he says it.

 “I love you too. So much.”

She falls asleep before he does, just like always, and although Levi has no need to memorise every detail of her lovely face, he still watches her until his eyelids betray him. Only once does he wake up that night, and it’s to the sensation of her placing the gentlest kiss over his blind eye, a gesture so tender that Levi for the first time believes that perhaps when they die and their spirits move on, that they will find each other there again.

[smallestapplin]

aaaaaa i just saw that you take stardew reqs!! i've been following for a bit but i NEVER get your posts on my dash i stg,,,

may i request some cuddles and reassurances for shane? i can't fix him but i want to just hold him and pretend I can,, can be platonic or romantic, up to you!

I love Shane, cause I'm depressed and self destructive too mf now get over here so I can hug you-

Romance is hinted and it's mutual but neither have confessed.

TW : just Shane having some self deprecating thoughts but nothing serious.

-

-

-

Shane has been doing much better in the months following when you found him drunk by the cliff side, you two have grown closer allowing you to watch how therapy continues to improve him.

Some days are better than others, but you're so proud of the improvements he's been making. But even then he still has some bad days, and those are the days he doesn't want you to see.

He feels so tired, so worthless, so useless, all he can do is lay in bed and rot.

He's watched his clock tick from 8am to 12pm to 5pm and so on, he just doesn't have the energy to get up, the fight he had been carrying just feels like a burden now.

He had been doing so good to, he's sure you'd be disappointed in him for slipping into a depressive state like this. Shane is so lost in his head he doesn't hear his bedroom door open or close, but he dos feel his bed side dip at the newly added weight.

But he doesn't bother looking up, afraid he may start crying, which is all the more likely when you so tenderly brush his hair from his face.

"Rough day today?" You ask, though you know the answer.

You smile at him, even as he finally looks at you with tear filled green eyes. Even now, you still look at him with such care and warmth, what did he ever do to deserve you?

You kick your boots off and lay down behind him, curling up against him with your face buried into the back of his neck and your arms around his waist. You know he will tell you when he is ready, but for right now you just want to distract him from his pain.

"You know my chickens missed you today, Jopeep was not happy when I was the one trying to give her pets, made this clucking sound that i swear sounded like she was sassing me."

You chuckle, your smile growing when Shane gives a small snort.

"And then Eggatha, bless her, hopped on my shoulder like she usually does, but kept looking around like a bird on a mission."

He can almost imagine your day with your flock, your chickens have always had such personalities it was a delight.

"I misssed you too, I was worried when you didn't stop by or answered my text, I figured you were sleeping. But I did bring over some stuffed peppers for you."

You sound so happy, like you don't mind being here with him while he's like this.

"You don't have to do all this." His voice is rough and gravely from not being used all day today, but it sounds so weak.

"I know, you make it sound like I do all this out of some obligation. You do know I do all this because I want to, right? You deserve some peace and joy, you've been through enough."

You're doing all this because you want to.

You help him practice the coping skills and thought processes his therapist has given him, because you want to.

You cook his favorite dishes because you want to.

There is no needing to.

There is no feeling pity and doing these things.

You want to.

"I like having you around, it's fun having you over at the farm and I get to see how many starws of hay I can put in your hood before you notice, I like our inside jokes, I like our time together, I like you and your company, even if you can't see it, it's there."

His body trembles, leaving him shaking like a leaf as he tries to hold back the tears that are already falling down his cheeks.

"But why, I'm not..." he trails off, letting out a choked sob, but that doesn't stop you.

"Healing takes time, it's a slow process and there will be days or times you slip back, to take a few steps back, but you're still working on it, you are still trying to change for the better. And i don't know if you have noticed, but even in two months of therpay you have changed, you seem happier, you seem livelier. You will always have rough days or even rough weeks, but that doesn't mean you're a failure."

Shane can't stop the sobs that leave him, he finds himself flipping around to hug you, buring his face into your shoulder to let it all out. You hold him tightly, gently shushing him and reminding him to breathe.

"I will be here no matter what."

You know your love won't fix his pain, but you know your support can help him feel more confident about going about it.

You want to tell him you love him, that you adore him and his dry sense of humor, that his gentleness with the chickens and Jas make your heart swell.

But maybe you will wait a few more months and see how he is feeling.

You know he means the world to you, even as he cries himself to sleep in your arms after muttering 'thank you's over and over again.

He deserves a safe place to feel happy.

And you want to be that for him.

[ofthemorningstars]

Movie Night (kabukiaku AU)

TerzoMega ~ Smut below the cut

2.1k words

Ao3 Version

Based on the character depictions of Terzo and Omega that have been lovingly crafted by @kabukiaku , thank you so much for allowing me to create something based off of your characters, and for giving me guidance and insight along the way! They truly are so special to me, and writing them has been such a fun process!

If you enjoy this story, check out her other socials too!

kabukiaku's Ao3

kabukiaku's Ko-fi

Omega is ready for date night with Terzo. Or is he?

---

Omega fidgeted in front of the door to Terzo’s chambers. He scanned his surroundings, making sure he hadn’t been spotted. Clutching the bouquet of roses in his hand a little tighter, he steeled himself and made his first tentative knock, wondering idly when the butterflies would still. Deep down, he knew they wouldn’t. 

Terzo wasted no time in answering, greeting him with a dazzling smile. Omega’s stomach did a backflip. 

“Ciao bello,” Terzo greeted him warmly, taking a moment to look him up and down. “Aren’t you looking dashing tonight,” he assessed, approving of Omega’s powder pink sweater vest and dark grey slacks.  Terzo stood on his toes expectantly, Omega leaning down to allow a kiss to the cold metal cheek of his mask.

“Come in, come in. Put your things down,” Terzo said, ushering him inside and taking the flowers with a playful bow. Omega obliged, setting his bag by the door. He’d needed to stop by his own chambers before their date; even though he practically lived at Terzo’s at this point, he had needed to refresh his ever-growing wardrobe that was accumulating in Terzo’s closet. Omega shuffled his feet, waiting awkwardly for Terzo to come back with a vase. Omega still needed him to take the lead, even after all this time. After a moment Terzo returned, carefully arranging the flowers before taking his hand and drawing him to the sitting room.

“Sit, sit. Make yourself comfortable,” Terzo instructed, letting his hand slide up Omega’s arm, lingering at his shoulder for a moment. Omega did as he was told, settling down at one end of Terzo’s plush purple suede sofa, propping himself up on an armrest. He watched as Terzo fussed with his beloved Stella, the antique projector that was his most prized possession; tonight was movie night. When he had selected a film and successfully set everything up, he beamed at Omega before shutting off the lights.

“You’re in for a treat tonight, my darling ghoul,” Terzo said as he took his seat at the other end of the sofa, curling his legs up under himself. “We’re watching The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. A true piece of cinema history. I think that you will love it.”

Omega felt himself begin to relax more as the images flickered before him. He wondered why date nights always set his heart to fluttering; for all intents and purposes, they lived together, after all. But there was just… something about the formal nature of calling it a date. It was something that Omega had never really done before, not until he met Terzo. Terzo was different. He was special. He made Omega want to step outside of his comfort zone. To learn.

Terzo drifted closer and closer as the film progressed, spouting facts about the movie and its production all the while, and when his head finally came to rest on Omega’s shoulder, it was a welcome relief. Omega wrapped his arm around Terzo’s much smaller frame and pulled him snugly against his body. Terzo let out a little sigh.

When the film was over, they sat in silence for a few long moments, content in each others arms.

“So, what did you think, amore?” Terzo asked, running a hand across Omega’s chest. Omega was grateful that the growing blush across his cheeks was concealed behind his mask. He swallowed hard before clearing his throat. 

“I enjoyed it. I felt like the themes were very reflective of the time it was made in, yet still timeless.” He really had been listening intently to Terzo’s impromptu lesson. He always did, and he wanted to affirm to Terzo that he hadn’t been just talking to himself. “I can see many similarities to the more modern-day films you’ve shown me. It must have been very influential.”

Terzo looked pleased, rewarding Omega with a peck on the forehead of his mask as he went to stand up. “My my, you are such a quick learner, mia ombra.” Omega grinned.

They ended the night as they often did, with Terzo’s favorite, Metropolis. This time when Terzo returned to the sofa, he resumed his previous position, nestling firmly into Omega’s side. Omega hummed, content. Throughout the movie Omega found himself stealing longing glances at the human tucked beneath his arm, lost in the comfort of his warmth and weight and hanging on his every word as he continued to talk about what they were watching. He was enraptured. Omega would happily watch this film every night for the rest of his life if it meant that he got to hear this passion in Terzo’s voice. The film ended too soon, as always, and again they sat together in the quiet darkness.

Terzo turned to nuzzle his face into Omega’s chest, inhaling deeply, breathing in his scent, his hands beginning to wander. When Terzo’s fingers teased their way under the hem of Omega’s shirt and began sliding up his stomach, Omega’s breath hitched. 

“Grazie, mio caro. I know you have seen that one many times. It is just the perfect way to end a date, don’t you agree?” Terzo said, looking up at Omega through lowered lashes.

“Y-yes. It’s, uh… It’s an excellent portrayal of class divide. Really speaks to those at the bottom. To searching for a better tomorrow…” Omega stammered before trailing off as Terzo’s hand grazed his pecks. His face was getting hot. 

“Mmm, you are such a good listener.” Terzo craned his face up to place a kiss to Omega’s neck, then another, trailing his way up to the edge of Omega’s mask. He climbed onto Omega’s lap, tongue snaking out to take a lick up Omega’s thoat. Omega let his head fall back as Terzo began to move his hips, gently grinding down on him. Omega felt himself stir, repressed excitement that had built up all throughout the night bubbling to the surface.

Terzo’s hands resumed their explorations under Omega’s shirt before going to lift it from the bottom. Terzo’s eyes met his questioningly, asking for permission. Unable to find his voice, Omega nodded enthusiastically. Terzo’s answering smile made Omega’s heart skip a beat. Terzo removed Omega’s sweater vest and shirt in one go, being careful not to displace his mask when lifting it over his head. Omega sighed as the growing heat that had been trapped began to dissipate. Terzo’s hands greedily roamed the now-freed flesh, making stops along the way to tease, to tangle in the soft white hair he found there. His mouth reversed its course back down Omega’s neck, trailing licks and soft kisses down his chest. Terzo’s tongue swirled around a nipple and Omega tried and failed to bite back a moan, his breath echoing harshly in his mask. Terzo released him with a gentle smacking sound, looking up at him with hooded eyes. 

 “Would you like one more show before the night is over?” Terzo purred. Omega nodded, unsure of what Terzo was planning but eager to find out.

Terzo rose to his feet, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as he fixed Omega with a sultry stare. Terzo was close enough that their knees touched. He shrugged the garment from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His hands trailed down his own chest now, his stomach, teasing just under the waist of his pants. Terzo undid his belt, then his trousers, revealing a pair of black lace panties, the fabric straining against his erection. Those he took his time with, sensually sliding them inch by painful inch down long, shapely legs. By the time Terzo stood naked before him, save for his socks and garters, Omega’s own pants were painfully tight. Omega shifted in his seat, hands itching to touch but keeping patiently to themselves.

Terzo guided Omega into lying down on his back, fitting as much of his tall frame as he could on the sofa. Terzo straddled him, moving to undo Omega’s belt. He shimmied Omega’s pants down his hips, leaving his underwear on. Terzo cupped and rubbed Omega through the thin fabric, lingering at the growing wet spot sticking to Omega’s skin. Omega whimpered, hands drifting up above his head.

“Si. Mio amato monstro, always such a good listener,” Terzo cooed at Omega, leaning down to place a kiss where his mouth would be. Omega wished he’d taken off his mask, wished that he could kiss Terzo back, but with the way Terzo’s hand felt on him, he couldn’t have found the strength to remove it if he tried. Terzo began to move his hips rhythmically, his precum-wet cock gliding across the fabric of Omega’s underwear. Omega groaned.

Terzo’s hands teased beneath Omega’s waistband before dipping down below, pulling him free. Omega winced a little at the contact, overstimulated from the previous friction through the cloth. Terzo began stroking him with one hand, cradling his balls with the other. He bent down to run his tongue up Omega’s shaft, stopping to suck gently on his tip. Terzo touched himself, too excited by the noises Omega was making to wait. He fit as much of Omega as he could into his mouth and began to bob, Omega writhing beneath him. The room was beginning to spin.

Terzo pulled away to catch his breath, sitting up and leaning back on a palm, resuming pumping himself, his mismatched eyes boring into Omega. 

“You like what you see, amore?” Terzo said with a chuckle as a fresh drip of precum slowly trailed its way to Omega’s stomach. Indeed, he quite enjoyed what he saw. He must be a sight himself, he thought, sweaty and flushed and foggy as he was now.

Terzo leaned forward, rubbing their cocks together, and began to grind. One of Terzo’s hands found Omega’s above his head, fingers twining together. Omega’s free hand slid up Terzo’s thigh until it found its place on Terzo’s ample ass, squeezing firmly. Terzo’s mouth once more found a nipple and Omega threw his head back with an unrestrained moan. Terzo began caressing Omega���s chest, his belly, his hip, before reaching down to rub his inner thigh. Whimpering pitifully, Omega tangled his fingers in Terzo’s hair. His tail wound its way around Terzo's leg, needy. He wanted so badly to pull Terzo’s face down to meet his for a kiss, again cursing his lack of forethought.

When Terzo began to ride him faster, Omega let his arm fall uselessly to the sofa, fighting hard not to tear into the fabric with his claws. Terzo licked the side of Omega’s mask before nipping at his ear, his breath harsh against Omega’s skin.

“Omega…” Terzo whispered to him. “I want to hear you. I want to hear you say my name when you cum.”

Omega gritted his teeth, fighting with all of his strength not to finish on the spot. He began to move his hips in time with Terzo’s almost involuntarily, bucking hard when Terzo’s teeth sank into his shoulder. Fingernails scratched down Omega’s chest, stinging sweetly. Terzo released his bite to softly moan Omega’s name in his ear, over and over.

“Terzo!” Omega came with a cry, back arching, body trembling. Terzo gave a few more frantic thrusts before following behind, sighing beautifully. 

As Terzo fell to Omega’s heaving chest, Omega heard his own heart pounding wildly in his ears. They lay there in a heap together, a mess of tangled limbs, tail still clinging tightly. Omega rubbed soothing circles into Terzo’s back, although trying to steady himself more than his little human partner. When he had gathered the strength to do so, he lifted a shaking hand to his mask, taking it off with a sigh of relief before gently setting it down on the floor. He coaxed Terzo into lifting his head, finally pressing their lips together in a tender kiss. Terzo’s tongue licked up into his mouth, and Omega couldn’t help but smile.

“Mmm,” Terzo hummed, before letting out a small yawn. “Do you think we should go to bed now?” He looked dreamily sated.

Omega nodded, stretching languidly and becoming aware of how sticky his stomach was with both of their release. “Maybe a shower first, tesoro.”

“An excellent idea, my darling” Terzo said, cringing as he pried their bodies apart. He extended a hand to Omega after he’d made it to his feet, an offering Omega gladly took. His knees felt weak as he stripped his pants and underwear the rest of the way off, leaving them where they fell as they headed hand in hand toward the ensuite.

While they waited for the water to heat up, Terzo pulled him down for a kiss, soft at first, but quickly building. As they broke away to catch their breath, Terzo met his gaze, a hand finding its way to the back of Omega’s neck. 

Terzo smirked up at him, mischief in his eyes. “Maybe we have time for an encore, no?”

[stories4eve]

ANGST FOR THE KIDDIES CONTINUED..

(PSST @batshikns get your food)

★ Cream Vanilla

Cream Vanilla has always felt like she lived in her family's shadow. I mean, her entire family is filled with magically talented people, healers and great heroes etc. However, though she'll never say it, she feels like she's not enough for her family-- that's why she's always seen as to be so amazed and in awe of her older brother. She wants to be like him, but she also feels like she's lacking. She feels like she's behind in everything. Being the younger one out of her and her brother, of course there's an example she sort of needs to follow; even if Vanilla and Shadow don't say it. Its sort of subconscious, they're more careful on what they allow her to do and monitor her magic progress even closer to prevent her from hurting herself for the most part. So she'll comply, she'll lie to herself that it's okay, she's fine with living like this. She'll lie until eventually, she forgets she even felt that way.

She doesn't have as much of an unstable power source as her brother before her. That does mean she is a little less powerful, but nonetheless, a force not to be played with. She's able to travel through portals and other things. She can create illusions and heal! But that's will never be enough to sastify that longing to finally feel like she belongs somewhere anywhere. But of course, she hides it all with a smile. There's something more sinister within her power source, though. She's scarily good with dream altering, mind manipulation, etc, even though she seems harmless.. Really, in some situations, Shadow Milk's help is needed more than Vanilla's. Because he seems to always know when she's lying, she might be a good liar to anyone else.. But to the master of deceit himself? Yeah, no. Nada.

★ Golden Saffron Cookie

He's probably the most prone to follow in Burning Spice's footsteps.. unfortunately. His mindset is similar to what near corruption Spice had, and Spice has VERY conflicting feelings about it. He doesn't like change all that much and wants to preserve most of everything.. He learned that change does hurt, that it's scary because he's seen all the bad that's happened to his father. Realized that he was good, but then he changed, realized what happened to his mom, and she changed too. It's a scary world out there, and it's better if he sits back and tries to live in what is comfortable and what he knows. Change will only result in loss, and he can't bear to lose Pepperjack, Kofta, Mama, or Papa now. He also can't really process strong emotions that well and tends to lash out. Cheese and Spice are, of course, trying to work this out with him, but having a stubborn 10 year old is stressful.

As for powers, he really only got Pyrokensis. However, it doesn't hurt him when he uses his flames, so it's so easy to be reckless and destroy everything. It's also tied to his emotions more so than anyone elses, and he kinda has something similar to what Capsacin has, not that he's part of their family, but the similarity is still there. He sometimes forgets that he's still a child at the end of the day and is prone to just accepting the title of "monster."

★ Kofta Cookie..

When she does eventually grow up, she'll gain more of Cheese's powers and her personality. As the only little girl in the family she's spoiled, but never rotten as she learns from both of her parents that your people are your strength at the end of the day. However, there are times where she forgets that. Sometimes she let's her ego get infront of her and ruin most of her friendships, sometimes people will have to hurt her to humble her. Of course, she'll learn her lesson one day, but it doesn't come without hurt. Most of the cheesians find her arrogance to be most.. unpleasant, and the wild spices think she's just too cocky. Her people lack loyalty in her because of how she presents herself, when in reality she just wants to be the very best for them.. and there is no other way she's been able to communicate this back other than this.

Her whole thing is nearly identical to her mothers with some aspects of destruction in there. She can manipulate the sands and bend them to create what she needs, but she can also turn things into sand to destroy them. Its a whole cycle she holds in the palms of her hand, and sometimes she can turn the wrong things into dust beneath her feet. Earning her a title of what is similar to that of a tyrant, making her quest and journey to earn her people's respect harder.. To a degree, of course the people respect her enough but there's always a few who have something to say..

[cherrysweather]

Saw your requests are open! And love your writing so wanted to finally get the chance to send in a request!! :D

Can I get some platonic hcs or a small fic set during the events of justice for all with edgeworth and an adoptive daughter reader? Since that’s got some angsty possibilities!! Thank you so kindly if you choose to write this!! :)

Hi Anon!! I'm so glad you're happy about this opportunity and thank you so much for the support ;^; <3 I tried my best with this request, so I hope your expectations were met! Have a good read and remember to drink and eat something!

It was really challenging to write this, I don't know why I found it so difficult, so I'm sorry if it's boring or if it's not what you expected, I'll try my best next time :( -------------------------------------------

Miles Edgeworth with his adoptive daughter during JFA:

When Miles decided to leave definitely, the last thing he expected to happen was bringing in a girl as his daughter. It all started when Miles requested someone to help him with the new languages abroad. Quickly one thing led to another, and when she became his official assistant (-not so much for his happiness at first-), Miles allowed her closer despite her young age, but she deeply reminded him of Franziska.

Their alleged relationship as a "family" started as a joke among his coworkers, he enjoyed the time spent together but never found enough courage and officially adopt her. He could already hear people talking and his only good fathering model wasn't there enough to make him understand how to do it; his adoptive father? Not the best. All these burdens from the past made their relationship more than unsettling, and his final decision to adopt and help someone in the same condition he was in when little, delayed until the last moment.

Considering his constant traveling, the two of them tried to find an agreement on when she would follow him and when to stay at home, but sure thing was that she didn't want to definitely follow him home, if somewhen he was to return. Thanks to him, she found a clearer path in her life but also kept his path, duties, and must-do obligations in mind to be sure to never be in the way, but maybe help when possible.

Miles always remained informed on what was happening back at home since he left the prosecutor's office; from all the chaos and confusion that resulted from his "death message", the case with Lana, and lastly, the news about Franziska's arrival from Germany.

However, all he could do for his own sake was focus on his career, find himself again and detach himself from his adoptive father definitively. This new experience, against all odds, was what helped him the most; he stopped pushing others away when in need of help and improved his interpersonal skills, stopped backing up from emotions he deemed useless and learned to be vulnerable in front of others.

His daughter reminded Miles so much of himself; luckily, she didn't see any of her parents killed in front of her eyes, but they weren't exactly cut out for the job, neglecting and leaving a child on their own too soon for her good. He surely isn't one to judge, never knew how parenthood worked and will probably never understand it entirely. Miles couldn't process having to grow up quickly and leave behind the few familiar things while still in touch with von Karma, but now that he's facing it all over again with her, he can easily help out while realizing a lot of his childhood.

Slowly, in his head everything was easier, and he could see himself finally going forward.

During the circus case, Gumshoe contacted Miles again and updated him on Wright, Franziska's work and the cases they handled. He decided to help remotely with the investigations, but soon understood it was time for a trip back home.

She was aware of Miles' relations and situations with both his adoptive sister and "best friend"; the news of his departure probably shook their lives and him being Miles Edgeworth doesn't know how to handle the circumstances created emotionally, other than being the usual stoic robot that he is. Furthermore, returning with a daughter added more trouble explaining everything. Still, Miles wanted to bring her along and find a solution together, as in all their investigations.

Phoenix's and Franziska's reactions were more than foreseeable, so he was ready for their disdain, especially Franziska, fearing his brother was back prepared to overshadow her again in her most important case. It didn't even cross their mind to question who the girl with him was; only when Phoenix came to Miles' office to discuss the Engarde case that everything hit him, in the worst way ever. But it's also in that specific moment that he understood how the "death" of his friend he experienced so poorly was in reality all he needed to turn back to when he was a child, more carefree and human. Soon they both realized how Edgeworth resolution was what Phoenix needed, too, to move forward.

If this situation wasn't hard enough, Miles lost years of his life when he had to forcefully drag Franziska to the hospital after being shot. He didn't even have time to collect what was happening and not panic that he was called to court to cover for his sister.

And once again, the von Karma curse hit again. He was lucky enough to have gotten rid of it, but he knew Franziska too well, and before she could leave her father and all the expectations his career passed on to her she had to be awakened with different realities from the one his father fed her for all their lives.

Edgeworth worked to find de Killer very soon in his career, because of this after the dispute with Andrews during the trial he spent all the time available investigating to locate him and Maya.

In all this chaos, he could luckily count on his daughter. Even if she could be the mirror of Franziska, her engagement with his father's work and relations was what put his mind at peace that she wouldn't take that turn. When she was allowed to investigate, Gumshoe by her side, together they worked their double best to help Edgeworth, but, as nothing helpful for the case could be done, she remained in the hospital with Franziska, helping her recover and not go out. That's when the two started to know each other, and Franziska began to see his brother's changes, or at least tried to.

She was able, at the end of this case, to see beyond the little corners Miles kept hidden; his sister, their father and this much-discussed best friend. Gradually, Edgeworth became easier and easier to crack open from his shell, and, like the good niece she was, the next one was Franziska and her whole armor.

[pinkcreamypeach]

Rosalina's final redesign in my au. (Human)

"Waluigi & rosalina "

Here's some more info about them in my au.

In my alternate universe, Waluigi's real name is Jerónimo, and he's a Puerto Rican. Despite being known for his frequent suit stealing and robbing offenses, he had somehow managed to evade punishment. This was most likely because the stolen suits didn't cost that much, and as a result, the authorities chose not to prioritize his case.

Nonetheless, it was still a crime, and Wario would have undoubtedly found it amusing to see Jerónimo behind bars for such petty offenses. He even sported the stolen suits to try and impress Rosalina, which added another layer to the absurdity of the situation.

It seemed as though Jerónimo was simply a master of crime and deception, able to dodge consequences with ease. However, there was no telling how long his streak of good luck would last before he was finally caught.

Rosalina, the powerful and majestic space princess, has remained the same in terms of her personality and powers. However, with certain traumatic events and the passage of time, her character has evolved and now she displays a motherly demeanor, acting as a protective figure to those around her.

In her quest to find the secrets of the universe, Rosalina's powers have developed to include the ability to read the stars. When a constellation appears, Rosalina is able to harness its energy and create new stars, which in turn yield valuable cosmic energy. Furthermore, Rosalina's pyrotechnic powers, when combined with the fire flower, are capable of reaching temperatures of up to 10,000 degrees Fahrenheit, allowing her to manipulate fire and heat in impressive ways.

Despite her extraordinary abilities, Rosalina has also faced her fair share of challenges, including her trauma which has left her with both visible and internal scars. Despite these setbacks, Rosalina has remained committed to her duties and continues to use her powers to help those in need, spreading light and hope wherever she goes.

The young and innocent Rosalina, whose life was forever altered by the devastating loss of half her civilization and her parents, was forced to grow up far too quickly. Left to lead as a queen of the stars, Rosalina amassed vast knowledge and wisdom about the universe, but not much about the world of humans.

Despite this, Rosalina remains a fierce protector, using her newfound leadership skills to ensure the safety and well-being of her people. However, while she may be knowledgeable about the stars and the universe, her understanding of Earth cultures and the concept of romance is limited, as she has only ever experienced the love of family and her children, never having had a chance to fully experience the joys of childhood or the complexities of adult relationships.

Rosalina and Waluigi's relationship in this alternate universe is a complex one, as they started out as complete strangers before gradually developing romantic feelings for each other. They would often meet under the moonlight, alone, where Rosalina's beauty and voice would captivate Waluigi.

Over time, their conversations revealed their similar experiences with losing beloved parents, causing Waluigi's fake personality to fade away, allowing his true self to shine through. As he opened up to Rosalina, he gradually let go of his fake persona and became more genuine, revealing his insecurities and feelings to her.

Rosalina found Waluigi intriguing due to his appearance, and his true self began to emerge, causing them to relate on a deeper level. Despite their romantic feelings for each other, the two have yet to act on them, but their connection only grows stronger with each passing night spent in each other's company.

The blossoming love between the two characters is a gradual and inconspicuous process, and they are both oblivious to their developing feelings for some time. It is only much later in their friendship, when they have both grown closer and had the opportunity to know each other better, that they start to realize their true feelings.

Despite the slow pace of their journey towards love, their friendship has served as a foundation for deeper emotions to form, and they find comfort and peace in each other's presence.

(Next post will about mareach and Luaisy children)

@bberetd @maceincognito @house-of-xiii @magnas27 @peaches2217 @awesomewolf27

[amayaonly1]

Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey

Eminem x Rapper!OC

Verse 11

About: Genji reflects on her collaboration with Eminem, revisiting moments of vulnerability and connection that once felt meaningful. As she wrestles with the growing silence between them, her lingering questions about their bond drive her to confront emotions she has been trying to ignore.

"Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey" Chapter List: Verse 1 | Verse 2 | Verse 3 | Verse 4 | Verse 5 | Verse 6 | Verse 7 | Verse 8 | Verse 9 | Verse 10 | Verse 11 | Verse 12 | Verse 13 | Verse 14 | Verse 15 | Verse 16 | Verse 17 | Verse 18 | Verse 19 | Verse 20 | Verse 21 | Verse 22 | Verse 23 | Verse 24 | Verse 25 | Verse 26 | Verse 27

Disclaimer: This work is a work of fiction, and any involvement of the character Genji is purely fictional and not representative of any real person.

The crisp winter air of Tokyo greeted Genji as she leaned against the frosted windowpane of her apartment. The city outside bustled with life, its neon signs fading against the encroaching daylight. February's chill seeped through the glass, a reminder of her restless schedule: interviews, promotional events, and music show performances. Yet, amidst the chaos, her thoughts wandered to one particular moment half a world away.

She caught her reflection in the glass. Her dark eyes were lined with exhaustion, but it wasn't just from the relentless pace that consumed her for the past weeks. It was something deeper, a restlessness she couldn't quite name that always seemed to lead back to Detroit.

Hailie's laughter was the clearest echo. Genji had always believed that children carried the purest forms of joy, untainted by the burdens adults bore. Working with Hailie on her project had been a welcome reprieve, an anchor in a storm of uncertainties. The girl was bright and curious, her enthusiasm infectious. But the memory of Eminem standing in the doorway, silently watching, stayed with her just as vividly. She remembered sensing the restraint in his jaw, his arms crossed and his gaze lingered before flicking away.

Genji thought back to their collaboration on Beautiful, a song that felt like peeling back layers of his guarded exterior. The way his voice softened when he explained the inspiration behind the lyrics made her feel like she was being allowed into a private part of his world. Then there was the book launch, where he showed vulnerability while recounting his past and struggles that had stayed with her long after the event. She'd thought, perhaps foolishly, that it had meant something.

But now? Now, their conversations had grown layered over time, filled with subtext she couldn't quite decipher.

She admired him, that much was certain: his resilience, his talent, his ability to channel his pain into something powerful, even his devotion to his daughter. And yet, there was more to it, something she hadn't dared to name.

It wasn't love. It couldn't be.

Could it?

She shook her head as the thought tightened her chest, trying to push it away. Love had no place here. They were artists who had briefly shared creative space. That was all it was. She had learned long ago to set her heart aside, to survive by shutting doors that didn't need opening.

Genji sat back down at her desk, the night creeping in as the room grew colder. She pulled her notebook closer. The worn cover and ink-stained pages were a testament to her constant need to process her world through words. Yet tonight, the pen hovered over the page, unmoving.

Her laptop's soft bing broke the stillness, and when she glanced at the screen, her breath hitched.

Eminem: "Thanks for helping Hailie. She loved working with you. Keep doing your thing."

It was polite and distant. If she squinted, she might find a thread of warmth. But reading it felt like reopening an old wound. The words made her feel like she was still an outsider in a world she almost become a part of. After all that had happened, it was starting to feel like she had become another one of the countless voices in the background, nothing more than an occasional collaborator.

Her hand hovered over the keyboard button, but the words wouldn't come. She stared at the screen, wondering if she should reach out, if she should ask him about Hailie again or inquire about their next project together. But the hesitation lingered like a shadow, pulling her back. There was nothing she needed to nor should say. And yet, her chest tightened with the weight of everything unsaid.

The screen dimmed as the notification faded, and with it, her resolve. She closed the laptop. Some things were better left unsaid. Yet the silence that followed felt deafening. She pulled her notebook closer and began to write, the words spilling out like a dam had broken. They weren't lyrics, not yet. They were raw and jagged thoughts, questions she dared not ask aloud, feelings she couldn't fully name.

あなたの胸の奥、今も私の声が響くの？ (Does my voice still echo in the depths of your heart?)

刹那の嵐じゃなく、時を越えて共に描けるの？ (Not just a fleeting storm, can we paint eternity together beyond time?)

The pen stilled, her hand trembling. She stared at the words until they blurred together, her vision clouded by unshed tears. It wasn't that she wanted to chase some fleeting fantasy, nor did she regret their brief collaboration either. Rather, it was the silence that had followed, the way he stepped back after the project wrapped as if she'd never been a part of it. She ripped the page from the notebook and crumpled it, tossing it onto the floor where it joined a growing pile of discarded drafts.

Later, lying in bed, Genji stared at the ceiling. The room was too quiet now, the silence pressing against her ears as she lay there, tangled in her own thoughts. Detroit felt far away, yet it clung to her like a second skin. She thought of their last conversation; his guarded expression, the way he always kept an arm's length from her, even after the months they'd spent working on lyrics together. It felt like he had built invisible walls around them, as though he was afraid to let anyone in. She had seen that before, people shielding themselves not because they didn't trust others, but because they were afraid of being seen.

Maybe she was as much a hypocrite as she feared he was, expecting honesty from someone when she had spent years avoiding it herself.

Although one thing was certain — she wouldn't let the moment pass without clarity the next time she saw him. Whatever this was, she needed to face it head-on. For now, though, her focus had to remain on her work. Tomorrow, she would channel this confusion and pain into something real. Tomorrow, she would face the silence and turn it into sound.

[timesimmer]

The summer of 1322 was approaching its zenith, and Thomas was on the cusp of a significant milestone. He had excelled as a squire, his dedication and skill earning him the respect of the King's Guard. The knighthood, with its promise of title and financial security for Una and their children, was within reach. Yet, beneath the surface of his outward success, a persistent ache lingered in his heart. The years had not erased the memory of his first love, Lady Antonia.

One afternoon, as Thomas strolled the grounds of the guard's barracks, a familiar figure came into view. Her hair, the color of spun gold, caught the sunlight, and his heart quickened with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. It was Antonia.

Their last encounter, a tense and painful exchange on her wedding day in 1319, hung heavy in the air. Thomas had allowed his anger and heartbreak to dictate his words, a decision he had long regretted, especially now that he was a married man himself.

"Antonia," he said, his voice softer than he intended.

"Thomas," she replied, her voice a melody that had haunted his dreams.

They exchanged polite greetings, inquiring about each other's families. Thomas spoke of Una and their children, Katharine, Isaac, and Tobias, his tone carefully neutral. Antonia, in turn, shared news of Lord George and their young son, Henry. Her words were dutiful, but Thomas detected a flicker of sadness in her eyes, a shadow that mirrored the longing in his own heart.

In a moment of impulsive tenderness, Thomas reached out and gently touched her cheek. He quickly withdrew his hand, a wave of guilt washing over him. They were both bound to others, their lives irrevocably intertwined with their respective spouses. Yet, in that fleeting touch, the years seemed to melt away, and he saw once more the vibrant young woman he had fallen in love with.

"It's been a long time," Antonia said, her gaze searching his.

"It feels like a lifetime," Thomas murmured.

Before he could fully process his thoughts, Antonia proposed a playful challenge. "I bet I can still outshoot you at the archery range."

A spark of their old camaraderie ignited as they competed, their laughter echoing through the air. Antonia managed to hit the target twice, while Thomas, with his years of training, scored five hits.

He then offered to show her the barracks, a gesture that felt both innocent and laden with unspoken meaning. He led her to a ladder that scaled the outer wall of his room, leading to a tower that offered a breathtaking view of Aethelmark.

As Antonia gazed at the panorama, Thomas found himself captivated by her beauty. The years had only enhanced her grace, her presence radiating a quiet strength. The words slipped from his lips before he could restrain them.

"I've missed you," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion.

Antonia turned to face him, her eyes filled with a poignant mixture of sadness and longing. "I've missed you too, Thomas," she whispered.

He reached out and took her hands, his touch tentative at first, then growing firmer as the years of suppressed desire surged within him. He pulled her closer, their bodies almost touching. He didn't know who initiated the move, but their lips met in a tentative kiss that quickly deepened into a passionate embrace. The years of separation dissolved, replaced by a desperate need to reclaim what they had lost.

Reason warred with longing. They were bound by duty and vows, their lives intertwined with others. Yet, the pull between them was too strong to resist.

Antonia broke the kiss first, but instead of pulling away, she tugged his hand toward the ladder. He followed her back to his room, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

Her gaze swept over the simple furnishings, lingering on his bed, then returning to his eyes. The unspoken invitation hung heavy in the air. Passion overwhelmed their restraint. Thomas pulled Antonia close, their kiss igniting a fire that consumed them both. They spent the night in each other's arms, lost in a world where the past and present collided, where duty and desire became indistinguishable. For those precious hours, they forgot the years that had separated them, the promises they had made, and the lives they had built with others.

Previous / Next / Beginning

[likealittleheartbeat]

hello !!

i was wondering, do you know any other characters like aang from other shows/movies/books? or maybe, just his theme of radical kindness appearing in other stories?

i've been missing aang, and it would be nice to find other representations of such a fun and warm personality like his.

ps.: your blog is like, fantastic. truly.

🥰🥰🥰🥰 This is the best ask I’ve ever received!!! Depictions of radical kindness in media is a special interest of mine—not exaggerating. So I’ve done my best to make a list of rec’s, just tv, from most formally similar to ATLA to least, with a short description for each.

1. Fruits Basket (2019)

"My mom told me, it's better to trust people than to doubt them. She said that people aren't born with kind hearts. When we're born, all we have are desires for food and material things. Selfish instincts, I guess. But she said that kindness is something that grows inside of each person's body, but it's up to us to nurture that kindness in our hearts. That's why kindness is different for every person."

An anime orphan whose established memory of the kindness by which her family raised her ends up transforming and liberating a whole clan from an intergenerational curse that enforced an abusive hierarchy all within a show that has a deeply queer subtext, beautifully complex plotting and character development that due to its zen influence refuses to demonize anyone or any perspective wholly, AND a straight romance you can actually root for!? Nothing comes closer to ATLA thematically than this show. While the lead Tohru Honda is the biggest representative of radical kindness, the character of Momiji Sohma with his complex purity, idealism, and gender performance is one of the closest you'll find to Aang in any media.

2. Mob Psycho 100 (2016-2023)

"The truth behind one's charm is kindness. Just be a good person, that's all."

Mob Psycho 100 explores a core tenant of ATLA's critique of imperialism and power: greatness and perfection are overrated. They both ask the question about what to do for the world with one's gifts if that's the case. How can one be both normal and prodigious at the same time? The satirical comedy and style of this anime, which deconstruct a lot of the shonen genre tropes, are pretty distinct from ATLA, but when ATLA arrived on the airwaves, it was a pretty massive break from tradition in Western animation, and for both of these series, that difference of style is tied to the message of the show about the experience and acceptance of difference.

3. Natsume's Book of Friends (2012-present)

"As I encountered kindness, I wanted to be kind myself."

The anime, Natsume's Book of Friends and ATLA both depict the challenge and necessity of facing abandonment, loss, and a deep-seated loneliness with kindness and gratitude despite the persistence of grief. Both take a deeply spiritual view--even a responsibility--of this experience that demands a compassion for all beings including those who intend to do harm. Natsume, an orphan shuffled between houses who is one of the few people who can see spirits called youkai, inherits his maligned grandmother's book of yokai names, becoming a target for them in the process. He hides all of this from everyone in his life, and even five season in, still has trouble admitting to the one person who understands him when he is struggling and needs help. The gentle and light tone papers over a profoundly honest representation of attachment trauma and the wisdom of compassion that develops as a tool to cope with it.

4. Hunter x Hunter (2011-2014)

"You can do whatever you want to hide your feeling. You still have a heart."

If you think that "Radical Kindness" is by definition non-violent, then this show is either not for you or going to change your mind. Gon, the protagonist of HxH, like Momiji mentioned in Fruits Basket, is another rare character whose naivete and optimism are treated with respect. He is allowed to suffer, to be wrong, to be stupid, and to inspire others away from their own cynicism with the persistence of his beliefs nevertheless. But HxH is a show that integrates the most violent aspects of the world (organized crime, capitalistic competition and privileging, state-sanctioned brutality, pure sadism) with its examination of human potential for goodness. And even within a list of shows deeply inspired by spirituality and religions, this show is abundant with religious references as it seeks out meaning, balance, and an ethic for modern experience. On top of that, it ranks with ATLA for the depth and relevance of its magic system to its themes, plus its got gay subtext out the wazoo!

5. Mushishi (2005-2014)

“Make sure to remember, every person and place has a right to exist. It is true for you too, the entire world, as a whole, is your home."

Elegaic, episodic, compassionate, and strange, with some of the best short story-telling of all time, Mushishi is the story of a medicine-man who travels the Japanese countryside helping people deal with the spirits that accompany the little trials and tragedies of life that cling to our minds long after they're passed. The protagonist, Gingko, and the show itself takes the approach of restraint to observe these problems fully and come to a conclusion that's taoist in its balance and acceptance of reality--"Eyes unclouded by hate" as Miyazaki/Gaiman would have it. Each episode is like a therapy session arguing for you to choose to live even as the heaviest burdens sit on your chest.

6. Reservation Dogs (2021-2023)

"See...love doesn't have to be received, it can just be."

We're finally out of the animes, and moving away from the zen and shinto approach into some other options. Reservation Dogs' indigenous humanism was groundbreaking, bringing in distinctly modern American realities (with the kind of true-to-life details only a an on-location shoot could offer) with Native beliefs about ancestry, community, and connection to the land, while rarely feeling preachy. Instead, it's just fucking hilarious and casually heartbreaking. Four friends on the edge of graduating high school on a reservation in Oklahoma try to figure out what to do with their lives after their plans to go to California get abruptly messed up. Radical kindness as a concept often gets focused on accepting the enemy but what about accepting the weird stoner uncle who farts all the time and won't talk about his years in the army. I think that might be a more important goal of radical kindness, in truth, if we are being asked to look and accept reality for what it is, because growing comfortable with disappointment and the mundane let's us live without the relentless striving that drives perfectionism.

7. Skam (2015-2017)

"The second you start looking for hate, you find it. And when you find hate, you start hating."

A Norwegian teen drama that understood internet culture better than any show before or since, four season-long romance plots better than any romance film from that decade, and a masterfully constructed exhortation about leaning into failures of connection to build deeper compassion rather than demonize another person or group. Each season focused on a specific character within a high-school friend group, emphasizing the limited scope of subjective experience, and had them confront the challenges of opening up to others fully. And even when they return into the scenes with new protagonists, their lives weren't sorted perfectly, reflecting how resolving a single romantic plot point would not resolve life. The impact of this low-budget public-television web series (!!!) will be felt for years (it's already been referenced by Netflix juggernauts like Sex Education and Young Royals), but we're not likely to see something that juggles political themes, heartfelt characterization, realistic dialogue, and meta-commentary (it flashed its own hater and fan comments across the screen in the last episode!!) in such a obsession-inducing package anytime soon.

7. Boys Like Boys (2023)

"Because I have always been someone who hates myself, I don't have the courage to face it. Running away is my only option...What if I give myself one more chance to be brave?"

So how can a reality show make it onto a list of radically kind tv series, especially a dating show!? Well, when that reality dating show casts people who radiate warmth, vulnerability, and respect and seem to have the kind of chemistry that most scripted shows can't even manage, it's a good start. But then, when they elevate that cast with a format that addresses the cruelty of dating, elimination formats, and broader societal exclusion (an important consideration for a gay dating show), it offers a new model for future shows. Boys Like Boys did this when mid-season (spoiler alert) they had contestants vote out a contestant, only to provide the contestants with a vote in which they could retain a contestant who they didn't want to leave. In fact, many of the contestants asked if they could abstain from making a vote that would eliminate a constestant and were allowed to. The final result left one contestant, Jia-Hang, up for elimination--he had voted for himself to be eliminated, and many contestants, recognizing his reticence to continue on the program, didn't want to force him against his will to stay. Then, looking around at nearly the whole cast sobbing, even apologizing to him for not providing him enough support, Jia-Hang chooses to stay on. This is just one of many heart-warming authentic moments in the show that illustrate the vital influence of kindness to impact the trajectory of our hearts.

8. Joe Pera Talks With You (2018-2021)

"I can help you reach things. I can tend the garden. The different hours we keep are a good thing. And when they overlap, I can offer companionship and entertainment."

So much has been written about this show's groundbreaking kind approach, I'm going to quote instead: "It can be difficult to convey how a TV show airing on Cartoon Network’s provocative nighttime programming block Adult Swim can evoke almost nostalgic feelings of kind-heartedness. The premise of Joe Pera Talks With You is so simple as to almost be beside the point: Comedian Joe Pera plays a lightly fictionalized version of himself as a sweet Michigander, a middle-school chorus teacher with small and specific passions. Joe likes breakfast food, obscure trivia, beans, trips to the grocery store, and his grandma. He greets every day with a contented smile, stands beneath a pale blue sky, packs a balanced lunch that contains no surprises. (A turkey sandwich with cheese and a tomato, a banana, some trail mix, and as a treat, some cookies.) Joe, more than anything, is satisfied. His greatest joy is sharing these small pleasures with you, the viewer who exists on the other side of the fourth wall he has cleanly dismantled, often speaking quietly to the camera like he’s sharing a secret, just between you two. That he’s talking “with” and not “to” you is a crucial distinction in the show’s title: Joe never lectures nor rhapsodizes. Instead, he waxes poetic about what he loves and who he cares for and how he leads his life, telling his stories from a vulnerable position of welcoming you into his daily existence.” --“A Great Comedy About Being Good,” Allegra Frank for Vox

9. Anne with an E (2017-2019)

"Her life was not short on challenges, and still she held no grudges, believing instead that grace is perennial like the green, green grass."

While maligned for not being the 1980s version, this Netflix adaptation of Anne of Green Gables takes what many have read as an autistic subtext and made it text, giving Anne a performative quality that pushes a lot of the audience into the same irritation that the characters of Avonlea feel for Anne at first, and, thus, requires its audience to persevere toward the same kindness that Anne inspires in her adoptive mother figure, Marilla, among others, which is much more rewarding than simply identifying with Anne right away. In so doing, it enhances the development of its broader approach to acceptance--an approach in its insistence on the requirement of a community of kindredness (see Sebastian's excitement at finding out about the black community in "The Bog") that is much more rigorous than many other shows will cop to. Expanding far beyond literal adaptation into queer, black, and indigenous characters, without disguising history or disparaging the thematic seed of grace at the heart of the novels, Anne with an E imagines what it meant and what it might still mean to build real joyful community with others through kindness.

10. Little Bear (1995-2003)

"Interesting."

A childhood favorite that disguised in its simplicity a wide-openness to the world and an acceptance of different natures. While most child shows emphasize kindness, few do so with as much patience, wonder, and generosity extended to its viewers. Little Bear is a curious kid who goes on adventures in the woods around his house that can turn into games or small imagined experiences. He is sometimes with his friends Cat, Duck, Hen, Owl, and Emily, whose personalities, along with Little Bear's, bring about small tensions in their games that ultimately resolve, if not independently, then with the help of Mother Bear or Father Bear, who give each other knowing glances about the expected childhood behaviors. This is the first show that initially taught me to observe things while withholding my judgment, that first step of radical kindness.

12. The Andy Griffith Show (1960-1968)

"The key to happiness is finding joy in the simple things."

One really old and somewhat controversial throwback for my last entry. If you have concerns about a sheriff character representing radical kindness, I would encourage you to start with the third episode of season 3 where Andy, the sheriff in question, has to explain to the new mayor why he doesn't carry a gun and lets prisoners go to gather their crops. There have been some fantastic pieces written about the complexities of this show's bucolic fantasy and Southerners (of all races) attachment to it, but they all acknowledge a type of humanistic and deceptively simple virtue found in Mayberry that audiences long to witness, if not emulate themselves. It's a morality that resists the "hyperactive zealotry" and bureaucracy that the show satirizes through Barney Fife (along with guest characters like the new mayor) and instead emphasizes the understanding that one can have for each individual and the trickstery middle paths that one can find to address conflict.

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Movin’ Mountains

Chapter 18: Green Valley

* Pairing: Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, pregnancy, mentions of adoption, possible betrayal

* Word count: 1,471ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant and @lexixstewart for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: This is a short little "cool down" chapter from all the madness going on. More drama is soon to follow. A little surprise for our beloved sibling pair, Ryan and Stella. I'll let y'all be the judge on whether it's good or not lol. I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well!

Rip knocked on the door to room 516, and pushed his way inside. Kayce lay on the bed, coiled to spring into action when he heard the door. Kayce relaxed when he saw it was Rip, but he held his finger up to his mouth. He motioned to Stella, fast asleep curled into his side.

Rip nodded, stepping closer so he could speak in hushed tones. Even though he knew Stella could sleep through almost anything. Growing up in the bunkhouse did that to a person. “How you holdin’ up?”

“I’ve been better. But she’s okay, and that’s what matters.” Kayce shifted on the bed to see Rip better, but still kept Stella close. “You heard anything about my dad?”

He nodded soberly. “It ain’t lookin’ too great, Kayce.” He cleared his throat. “They had to put him in a coma so he’d heal right.”

“We all know my dad. If they hadn’t done that, he would be the biggest pain in the ass.”

“Your sister is doing okay too. Burned up pretty bad from the explosion.”

“The explosion?” Kayce frowned.

“A bomb was sent to her office building.”

“All on the same day?” Kayce’s arm wrapped around Stella just a fraction tighter. “That ain’t a coincidence.”

Rip nodded slowly and swept his gaze around the room, eyes landing on the table. “It sure ain’t,” he trailed off as he caught sight of the pregnancy test stick and box. He ran his hand over his mouth, forcing down the shock. His eyes flickered between the table and Kayce and Stella.

Rip wasn’t sure if Kayce had caught him noticing the table’s contents or if he was oblivious to it. Rip licked his lips, and decided against saying anything. It wasn’t the time. “I called Jamie when I couldn’t get a hold of everyone.”

“Did they try to get him too?” Kayce twitched, ready for more bad news.

“No,” Stella’s sleepy voice was muffled by Kayce’s shoulder as she sat up. “But he was perfectly fine.” She tousled her hair. “Not a hair on his head was misplaced. He told Rip we “shouldn’t call him for these kinds of things” anymore.” She blinked slowly at her boyfriend, letting the information about his brother sink in.

“I don’t think he would have had anything to do with the attack.” Could he have? Kayce didn’t believe Jamie carried that much hatred in him.

“Well we need to figure that out because if he did, that’s a problem, Kace.” Stella pinned him with a grave look. The unspoken threat hung in the air like humidity before a thunderstorm. A dark, feral glint flashed in her eyes.

Kayce met Stella’s stare head on, reading between the lines. She wasn’t angry. She was willing to become the most frightening version of herself to protect their baby. His brother or not, it wouldn’t stop her. He nodded subtly, letting Stella know he got the message, but also understanding the importance of talking to his brother. “When I get outta here, I’ll talk to him.” Kayce glanced at Rip. “Don’t let my sister get to him before I do.”

Rip nodded curtly. “Alright, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone and get back to mine.” He started to stand with a groan.

“Oh, speaking of your lovebird,” Stella chirped excitedly. “What’s this I hear about you maybe puttin’ a ring on that?”

Rip stilled. He hadn’t told anyone but John and Lloyd. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I have songbirds that sing to me from everywhere, Wheelie,” Stella smirked. “You should know that by now.”

“Yeah, well,” he chuckled fondly at his right hand, “when it happens you’ll know.” He turned on his heel, heading for the door.

“You better!” Stella called after him. Hearing the door click, she nestled back down into Kayce’s side. He wrapped his arm around her, feeling a sense of peace despite his uncertainty. The room was silent after Rip exited. The burden of everything that happened during the attack and the events that followed weighed heavily on Kayce. “You’ve been awfully quiet,” her fingers danced along his chest.

“Just thinkin’,” he mumbled.

“Yeah that’s the dangerous part.” Stella looked up at Kayce. “Talk to me, baby.”

Kayce’s arm flexed, hugging her tighter. He wasn’t sure he could even put his thoughts into words yet. “I’m not even sure what’s going on in my head, Stell,” he shook his head.

She propped herself up on her elbow. “How ‘bout I start?” Kayce nodded, more than happy to let her take the lead and give him some direction. “I’ll go check on your dad in a while, and get information for you. Speaking of your dad, he’s gonna need his bedroom back when he gets outta here. Not some hard ass mattress. And sure as hell not that dilapidated trapper cabin.” She leaned back on her elbow.

Kayce knew his father would need his room back. Especially if they wanted him to heal properly. “Yeah,” he paused. “I gotta think of where we could go.”

“Well, hear me out. We could move into my house for a short while. Tate could have the guest bedroom until we have the baby sleeping by itself.” Her fingers traced idle patterns on his chest. “But after his sibling gets here, we’d be shit outta luck on space in my house.”

“We could. But it’s a little far out from the ranch, don’t you think?”

“I mean kinda, but not really. Before all this mess started, I came back and forth all the time.” Her heart ached at her next option, but she offered it up anyway. “Or, we could sell my house. Then take the money from that and use it to buy something that suits all of our needs.” Her hand flattened against his chest. “It doesn’t need to be decided right this second, but we’re gonna have to figure it out.”

Stella stilled, knowing it was important to figure this out, but it wasn’t the actual conversation they needed to have. “But before we go any further, let’s address the elephant in the room.”

“Jamie,” Kayce guessed quietly.

Stella pursed her lips to the side. “Yeah.” She cleared her throat, not sure how to address what she’d heard the other week between Jamie and John. “Have you ever heard anything about Jamie being adopted?”

Kayce’s brows pulled together. “No? Why would you think that?” He crossed his legs, raising the backrest of the bed, and sat up straight. A memory of when Jamie asked him if it was okay if he still called him brother flashed through his mind.

Stella shuffled around, mirroring his pose. This was a delicate subject. “The night of the shoot out at the cattle thief’s house, when I got home before you did, Jamie was already there talking to John.”

Kayce sat back against the bed, taking in the information, glad she wasn’t rushing. His heart jumped in his chest.

“The words from your father were — ‘Pretty much everyone at one point or another wonders what life would be like with different parents. You actually have the opportunity to choose.’ Then I heard him say he knew Jamie’s biological parents.” Stella wiped her dewy hands on her pants. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds a lot like admission of adoption to me.”

Kayce’s head swam with the information. His brother’s question made absolute sense now that he knew what Jamie meant. “It doesn’t change how I feel about ‘im. He’s my brother. We grew up together.”

Stella nodded. “I understand that, love.” She thought carefully about her next sentence. It was either going to piss Kayce off, or drive her point home. “But if he does anything that puts me, the baby, or anyone on the ranch in harm’s way — and if he had anything to do with the attack yesterday?” She made sure she had his eye contact. “All of you will have to take a number because pregnant or not, I’ll have his head first.”

He knew it wasn’t a threat, it was a promise. Kayce nodded, clearing his throat. “I understand, Stella. I’ll talk to him when I get out of here.”

“I trust you, Kayce. Just don’t let your love for him cloud your vision.” A small wave of cramps hit her abdomen, and she leaned back on her hands, blowing out a breath. “Yes, Jamie and I have had our spats, but I’ve never thought anything directly terrible about him — until Rip told me what Jamie said and the fact that he was untouched.” She sat up, catching Kayce’s gaze. “That’s a little too coincidental for me, love.”

Kayce exhaled slowly, running a hand down his face. He wanted to defend Jamie, but the pieces weren’t adding up. His gut twisted. He needed time to think.

[thatgirl4815]

Sand & Perspective

So Sand finally gets the attention this episode, and it's demonstrated a lot of things: namely, that as much as he has brushed it off, he is down bad for Ray. Like really bad. Honestly, he's down even worse than I thought.

A lot of this is evident in his narration, a device which has been used quite skillfully up to this point (I'm usually pretty wary of narration in shows, but I think it suits the general tone of OF and its large cast of characters). It's also exposed something I didn't think too much about before this episode--Sand and Ray's relationship has been consistently filtered through Ray's perspective. We've witnessed Sand's lingering looks and blushes, but with the exception of a few scenes, we've always been right alongside Ray.

"I gotta work for everything I want."

So what do we learn about Sand? He's a caretaker by nature--we knew that already--but we come to understand the root of this trait in his upbringing; he was forced to grow up fast as a result of being raised in a single-parent household. He's managed to get his mother out of her debts in the past. From this, and Sand's ability to earn money from multiple jobs, we can gather that Sand is both pragmatic and determined. Though his lifestyle seems lonely and monotonous, there's no indication that he necessarily feels that way about it; rather, he sees it as the "way things are."

Again, this seems to be the marker of a person who has grown up paving his own way, not expecting others to give him anything for free. (This also explains why he was so uncomfortable with Ray throwing money at him in Ep 4.)

I find Sand's dreams interesting as well. We know he idolizes musicians, but when Ray asks him if he wants to become a famous musician himself one day, he instead describes going to music festivals. To me, this indicates that Sand might not be interested in achieving his own stardom so much as he wants to be part of a collective. It's the thrill of enjoying music with others that attracts him, and I don't think it's any coincidence that we see him doing that very thing with Ray twice prior to this discussion (once at the record store in Ep4, and once at the concert in Ep5). It's illustrating how Ray plays a part in Sand's interests, bringing the two of them closer in the process.

"Ray's Extra Hour"

Sand falls hard and fast, and a large part of this can be attributed to his obligations as a caretaker. He's motivated to help others and offer support, because that's just who he is. Still, the fact that he's willing to carve out an extra hour in his day for Ray is very telling of just how deeply he feels for Ray already. It all brings me back to the first sign of feelings Sand demonstrates in Ep1:

Sand sees Ray as someone in need of help, and I suspect that role will only become more prominent as he continues to unveil just how broken Ray is by his past.

"I've always thought Ray is my 25th hour, my extra hour. But the truth is everyone has the same 24 hours in a day.

I see these lines as Sand coming back to reality. There is no actual "25th hour"; it's a piece of time he's invented to categorize the part of his life he's now devoted to Ray. Sand is pragmatic, but he's allowed himself to live in what he thinks is a fantasy; a fabrication.

"And within Ray's 24 hours, I'm not a part of it. I'm not that special."

As several others have pointed out, Sand's language here mirrors Ray's last episode. Sand wants to be cherished by Ray the way Ray wants to be cherished by Mew. Will we see Sand resort to his old routine, pushing Ray away the way he tried to once before? Will we witness Sand recommitting himself to his dream, narrowing in on his goals and isolating himself from Ray in the process (to protect his own feelings)? I predict we will see some of that, but Sand will ultimately run back to Ray at the first sign of distress. Because like or not, he cares about Ray, even if Ray doesn't put him first. His feelings won't just disappear overnight.

[narcissosbythepool]

PriceGaz Week - Day 1 (and 4, arguably)

Poetry prompt: "& how many times have you loved me without my asking? how often have i loved a thing because you loved it? including me"

Rosie AU

Tags: Established pricegaz, past trans pregnancy, non-sexual intimacy, showering together, scars (incl. caesarean section), mild body image issues, fluff, kissing

//

Kyle has always been handsome to John. 

From the very first moment they met, John could vaguely estimate that Kyle was a good-looking guy, though at the time he didn't think much of it, busy with the whole gas operation and helping Farah. After he recruited Kyle for 141 and they began to work closer together, it kept slowly creeping up on him, the attraction, the affection. And then one day he looked at Kyle and his eyes truly opened to his beauty, the depth of his eyes, his full lips, how his brown skin glowed in sunlight. Toned body and a wicked smile, add his charming personality on top, and John found himself inevitably, inescapably falling deeper into an infatuation that then became something more.

The man who met Kyle in Piccadilly had no idea where he would end up.

The man who first noticed Kyle months later had no idea that Kyle could become, somehow, inexplicably even more alluring.

John knew the changes to Kyle's body from the pregnancy, and even postpartum, were not the easiest for Kyle to process. John knew that no matter how much and thoroughly he convinced that Kyle was still gorgeous to him, it did not really matter as long as it bothered Kyle. Now, nearly 18 months later, Kyle is almost back to the shape he was before the pregnancy, and he seems more comfortable in his skin than he has in ages.

Fatherhood also suits him well. He's become irresistible. John doesn't know how he's able to keep his hands off at any time. And he doesn't – whenever he's back home he finds himself touching Kyle constantly. Pressing a hand to the small of his back at every chance, caressing his face and hair, giving him hundreds and then thousands of kisses so that they lose count by the time he has to go.

He had already thought he had found the love of his life, that this was the extent of how much a human heart could handle affection – and then came their little Rosanna and grew his heart at least three sizes just to contain all of his devotion for her. With all the hard work that comes with parenthood, she's truly his everything. Not a day goes by that he doesn't miss her, want to hold her and watch her grow, become a person in this frightening world. Her smile is the reason he keeps going, her laugh and little arms around his neck life's greatest gift. 

So naturally watching Kyle interact with her makes his brain break. 

Kyle is so comfortable with her – it's no wonder, they've spent 18 months together, a criminal amount of it alone as John's been gone. Kyle's attentive to her every need and when they look at each other it's clear that they're each other's world. John is merely grateful he's allowed within this galaxy of parental wonder. He'll make it up, he tries each time he comes back, but he also finds it sweet that the two people he loves the most in this world adore each other like this. Kyle handles her with ease, taking everything in stride, be it tearful meltdowns or Rosie’s boundless energy. She is such a happy little child and John could not be more grateful that his absence doesn’t seem to have affected her sense of safety in the world.

He’s watching now as Kyle puts Rosie to bed (he insisted on doing it tonight, claiming that ‘you’re hogging her all to yourself, let me have a moment’, which isn’t untrue). 

“Say ‘good night’ to Da,” Kyle tells Rosie, to which Rosie replies “Night-night!” and they both turn to wave at John, who waves back, clearly being chased out – fine, he can take the hint, and he blows a kiss to the pieces of his heart and then closes the door behind him. He listens by the door as Kyle starts reading a story to Rosie.

“Now that Da has stopped eavesdropping,” he begins and John rolls his eyes, finally tearing himself from the door. He takes a look at the flat and then sets himself to cleaning up the day’s activities. He gathers Rosie’s toys and arranges them in their respective boxes, puts all the pillows back on the sofa, and then turns to the kitchen, filling up the dishwasher as quietly as he can, resolving to get to the frying pan tomorrow, and then wipes the counters, the table and the tray of Rosie’s high chair.

With all that done, he looks around and there’s just… nothing else to do. He should welcome the quiet, and he does on some level – life with a toddler isn’t the easiest thing in the world, no matter how adorable and sweet Rosanna is, but he still doesn’t feel the pull of sleep like he usually does at the end of the day. 

No can do – he’s restless. Leaves have always been tough for him, his mind constantly in mission-mode. It was worse, before, he would pace around like a restless dog yearning for a run, and he would do that too. Run for miles, try to distract his mind from the emptiness around him. Now it’s different, with Kyle and Rosie, and he’s happy that he can channel all of his restless energy into spending time with his daughter. Give some alone-time and well-earned rest to Kyle and make sure that he bonds with his daughter properly before he has to go again. 

Rosie still cries when he leaves. It tears him apart every time.

He glances at the clock. It’s only 7pm, normal bedtime for Rosie, perhaps even a bit early, but she was getting cranky and getting her to sleep before a meltdown is always better. She’ll most likely fall asleep mid-story again, which is always very cute, but it will take some time and John now has to figure out what to do in the meantime. 

He ends up scrolling on his phone on the sofa and bothering Nikolai, trying his best not to ask about work things. These days he really tries to disengage from work, try out the whole work-and-life balance thing that’s all the rage these days. It’s hard to believe that it’s been a year and a half already, of living this new life of his – being a father (the thought still makes him feel a bit dizzy), returning home to his family, being the kind of person who gets to leave work to his workplace and then just… be done. Be home.

He’s still really bad with alone time, though. Waiting for Kyle to re-emerge from Rosie’s room feels like it takes forever, and John can’t help but be reminded of a dog again.

He looks up when he hears the door and Kyle smiles at him.

“She fell asleep fast,” John lies and Kyle yawns. 

“I almost fell asleep first,” he admits and then joins John on the sofa. John opens his arms and Kyle settles sideways on his lap, practised by now in the fine art of cuddling. 

“No TV tonight?” John asks and Kyle presses his face against John’s neck, and then nods.

“Can’t concentrate,” Kyle admits. “I don’t understand how I’m this tired…”

A thought occurs to John. “How about,” he suggests, “we take a shower?”

“In that case,” Kyle concurs and then leans in to kiss John’s cheek. “What are we waiting for?”

Kyle slowly raises his head. “Too tired for sex, too.”

“That’s why I suggested showering,” John raises a brow at him and Kyle flushes a little. 

“For you to get off my lap,” John replies cheekily and gets a light tug on his beard.

“Piss off,” Kyle chuckles and then blesses John with another kiss. 

John gets them the softest towels he can find and takes the baby monitor to the bathroom just in case. Kyle waits for him there already, still clothed, helping him out of his shirt and pants and dropping them to the laundry bin (which seem to have multiplied ever since they had their baby). When it’s Kyle’s turn, they both halt.

“How are you feeling today?” John asks. “Clothes on or off?”

Kyle swallows. This is always a bit of a difficult thing for them – they enjoy the intimacy of being skin-to-skin, but recently Kyle has had days when he’s just not feeling like feeling or looking at his body. Be it the sensory overload of parenting a tactile toddler or dysphoria, the reasons differ or intertwine, some days being touched and seen is overwhelming for him. John’s tried to make it clear that he never expects anything, is willing to go by Kyle’s wishes no matter what, but he knows Kyle worries about this.

Still John asks every time.

“Off,” Kyle says then. John resists the urge to ask if he’s certain – he’s learned that Kyle does not enjoy fussing, and would rather John take him at his word. 

John lets Kyle take off his own clothes, as much as he longs to touch, but then Kyle plasters himself against John’s body and John’s arms come around to pull him closer into the embrace.

“Hi,” Kyle mumbles against his skin and John is met with such a rush of fondness that he has to close his eyes for a moment.

“Hello there. Ready?”

Kyle nods and then pulls back just to slide his hands from behind John’s back over his sides, all the way to his pecs, lovingly caressing his chest and the hair there. John enjoys the petting, lifting his hand to cup the back of Kyle’s head and press a kiss on his forehead. Kyle chuckles, until his gaze falls on John’s arm – specifically the tattoo there.

A simple rose, with Rosanna’s birth date on it. There are many marks of life on John’s body and this one he’s the proudest of. He got it not that long after Rosie’s birth. Kyle follows the shape of it, the series of numbers, with his fingers, and then presses a gentle kiss on John’s shoulder, then his neck, a trail of soft kisses all the way up to his jaw.

“Yeah,” Kyle sighs in his ear and John feels heady with Kyle’s undivided attention. His hand travels to Kyle’s ribs, to the tattoo commemorating their daughter right under his top surgery scar on the left. A stylized bee design, mimicking their nickname for Rosie, and her birth date next to it. He knows the lines of it by heart, doesn’t even need to look. The symbols of their daughter permanently etched in their skin feels appropriate – she turned their lives upside down, and it would not be fair if the inner workings of their souls were not reflected externally. 

Close to the heart, always.

They step in the shower hand in hand and John makes sure the water temperature is warm enough before they step under the spray. He pulls Kyle close again and for a moment they just stand there under the water, brows pressed together and eyes closed, taking in the skin contact and closeness.

He lets Kyle take charge, as much as he yearns to touch and pamper him – but Kyle seems determined to be the active participant today, and John’s still not sure where they stand on the whole touching thing today. So he lets Kyle soap him, lets the touch ground him as Kyle washes his body, hands roaming gentle, stopping every now and then to appreciate a detail – a gnarly old scar by his shoulder; the expanse of his chest; another wide, deep scar from a knife wound across his waist (almost spilled his guts in Latvia); and throughout John watches him with soft eyes, feeling loved and cherished. 

“My turn?” he asks finally, and Kyle returns to him with yet another sweet kiss.

“Sure.”

John repeats the same process: soaps Kyle thoroughly, washes him clean of sweat and the day’s grime, and presses kisses to his shoulders and neck whenever he can reach. His hands follow the lines of Kyle’s body – the toned muscles, the softness of his dark skin, stalling by the stretch marks he adores. He knows Kyle isn’t the biggest fan of them, but John loves them. He runs his fingers over them.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs and Kyle cups his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with his thumb.

“So you’ve told me.”

“It’s true. Every time.”

Kyle answers with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight, and John has to keep going to keep himself from crumbling on the spot.

He traces Kyle’s scars with reverence, as always. He knows them all by heart: that’s from when he ordered Gaz to rescue the hostages; this one’s from when he told Gaz to leave them. That’s from a gunshot wound from a sniper John didn’t notice; there’s a stab wound from Gaz covering for Soap. All these marks of life on him, and yet—

“I love this one the most,” John says, tracing the C-section scar across Kyle’s abdomen. It’s healed by now, but still clear – he knows it occasionally bothers Kyle, but John himself is positively obsessed with it.

“Yeah?” Kyle chuckles. “How so?”

“It feels like I put it there,” John says, transfixed on the darker line contrasting against Kyle’s beautiful brown skin. The truth is – he thinks most of Kyle’s scars, received after he joined John’s task force, as his. Both with the occasional guilt, but also with a sense of devotion. Kyle got these scars because of his orders.

This one, though. This one he knows he’s responsible  for.

Kyle knows this, and throws his head back with a rich laugh. “You’re deranged.”

“Yup,” John replies and then leans in to chase Kyle’s laugh with his lips, pulling him into a deep kiss once again. Kyle hums in his mouth and then pulls back with a sweet little peck.

“You know what I like about you?” Kyle asks, hooking his arms around John’s shoulders.

“Mmhm?”

“You always make me feel better about myself.”

“Really now?”

“Swear. You compliment me and say nice things.”

“Of course. You’ll always be gorgeous to me,” he says and Kyle grins.

“Yep, that’s what I mean,” he chuckles, bringing them nose to nose, nearly touching. “You’ve made me like many things. Including myself.”

It’s suddenly hard to speak. He parts his mouth but nothing comes out, and Kyle closes the distance, kissing him right on his stupefied face, the tip of his nose, then his cheek and finally his lips – by then John’s brain has caught on and he returns the kiss with a gentle kind of cupidity.

“The least I can do,” he murmurs. Kyle laughs again, the sweetest sound.

“And that’s why I love you,” Kyle says to that, sincere and heavy, and John doesn’t know how to verbalise the depth of emotion he feels – love just isn’t enough, with his entire being yearning to merge their very souls into one spinning spiral of light. Who else could he stand with in the water, like this, just exist together like the entire world revolves around them? Who else would he spend the rest of his life with? It feels impossible to even think that this could ever end, and he does not even dare to imagine such an impossibility.

“You alright there?” Kyle wipes a thumb over his cheek and John can’t tell if he’s wiping away a stray droplet of water or tears, and he doesn’t really care. 

“Yeah,” he says weakly. “I love you too.”

“Wow, for a moment I was worried you wouldn’t say it back,” Kyle teases – as if John could ever deny him the confession. He replies by brushing the tip of his nose against Kyle’s.

“Like I could resist.”

They enjoy the hot water, holding each other close, until the tips of their fingertips are all pruny.

John dries Kyle with the soft towel, takes his time with it, and Kyle lets him, understanding that John needs this moment to wind down from the emotional intensity. He gets on his knees to dry Kyle’s legs and when he looks up, it’s a sight from his dreams: Kyle looking down at him with a benevolent smile, like some saint, and John can’t resist but press a reverent kiss on the scar on his abdomen.

You’ve given me everything, he wants to say, you’re like a painting by the renaissance masters; I’d build a cathedral to your worship if you gave me the word; you’re the father of my child and I can never thank you enough.

But perhaps Kyle understands – he lifts John’s chin with two of his fingers and pulls him up to his feet as if tethered to his touch. 

“Let’s get to bed,” he says. 

Kyle’s word is law, so John dries them both as carefully and hastily as he can. 

They change into their pyjamas (a matching set – a gift joke from Dotty, but in frequent use nonetheless) and climb under the covers, Kyle settling in John’s arms as easy as breathing, like their bodies were made to be moulded together like this. 

On their way to bed, he lingers for a moment by Rosie’s nursery, eager to peek in and see if everything’s alright. He feels a touch to his elbow and it’s Kyle, gesturing with the baby monitor in his hand.

“She’s fine,” he says and tugs John by the arm. “Come to bed.”

He’s gorgeous. He’s everything John could ever have wished for and was convinced for so long that he didn’t deserve, couldn’t even dream of this reality. And yet here he is – sleeping in the same bed with his partner, their toddler dozing away in the next room, and it really can’t get better than this. And he owes it all to this man in his arms, the man of his dreams, the man—

“Stop thinking and go to sleep.”

He’s barely able to stop the audible laugh bubbling in his chest. Best not to wake their little one behind the wall.

“Yes, sir.”

END.