#i reached out once recently and was rejected because I did it in a way that was unkind | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

disaster-writer · 4 months ago

Text

Poison (Part 4/4)

Pairing: Alpha!Bokuto Koutarou x Beta!Reader

Summary: You loved love, but it wasn’t made for you… but maybe a certain Alpha could change your mind

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This is the final part but there will be an epilogue. Thank you for all the support on this fic

AU: Omegaverse

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Bokuto blinked.

When did he get to his apartment?

And when did it start raining? He could have sworn the weather report said clear skies all day.

He reached for his duffle bag that hung from his shoulder, the weight of the rejected dangos and gift feeling heavier than they did this morning, and unzipped the small pocket at the front before fishing for his key.

He shoved the key in the lock, shut the door behind him and slid off his shoes, leaving them at the door.

His movements were rigid and automatic as he flicked the lights on and dropped his duffle bag onto the ground, leaving it behind him on the path he was on. He’ll put it in its proper spot later.

He walked into the living room and plopped himself on his couch, the cushions dipping under his weight. The rain water that dampened his clothes soaked into the couch, drops of water dripping from his flattened hair.

And… he just sat there, lost.

He stared at the palms of his hands. He had no idea what to do with himself.

For the last nine month his routine was to go to his family home and cook (or bake) for you with his sisters, and imagining what kind of reaction you’d give him on the way home when he gave it to you the following day.

Bokuto didn’t quite realize until now how much you really occupied his mind, because for the first time since he realized he’s had feelings for you, thinking about you felt wrong.

It felt like you’d hate him if you ever found out how much you were on his mind.

He pulled his phone out, reading the texts he knew he got on the train ride.

Tsum Tsum: Where are you??? We’ve been waiting by the train station for a damn half hour, how long does it take to hand over a couple gifts??

Star-pupil: ‘Is everything okay? Did she accept the stuff?’

Onee-chan : ‘Are you still coming over? Onee-chan and I started baking already’

He responded to all of them with the same simple words.

‘She said no.’

By the third time he typed out the message, his eyes had filled with tears.

With a sniffle, he turned off his phone for the night.

He doesn’t remember ever feeling this empty before.

He wanted to go to bed and sleep, even if it was only 5 o’clock, he wanted to sleep and not wake up for the next ten years in the hopes that his heart wouldn’t hurt so much anymore.

So he went to bed.

But he did anything but sleep.

Instead he had found himself wrapped up in a burrito of blankets, watching the movies that he recently bought.

They were all romantic comedies.

All of your favorite movies from the list your sister gave him.

By the end of the first movie Bokuto couldn’t control his tears, the cheesy script about an Alpha and Beta falling in love, but the Beta not believing the Alpha was truly in love with her and that it’d never work, then seeing the Alpha fight for her love.

It hit too close to home. But he couldn’t stop watching.

He put in a second movie and then a third, somewhere along the way he had managed to dig up a sweater he took from you with the full intention of giving it back once it was drenched in his scent. He soaked the fabric with his tears, keeping his nose buried against it throughout the night.

He vaguely acknowledged the fact that he should be sleeping when he started the fifth movie.

But he wouldn’t until half way through the sixth and his body just couldn’t handle the physical and emotional exhaustion anymore.

Before falling asleep he couldn’t help believe that Ushiwaka was to blame for all of this.

When he had woken up in the morning it wasn’t to his alarm but a very irate Atsumu that had let himself into his home and bedroom.

”Get up,” Atsumu hissed, already dressed in his uniform, dropping Bokuto’s duffle bag on top of him, effectively waking him up.

It was sad really. All the tissues scattered around, some depressing movie playing in the background, while Bokuto was curled up like a baby with its blanket, but instead it was a sweater he had seen you wear more than once.

Nine months without an ounce of reciprocation hadn’t even managed to extract a hint of this kind of depression.

Bokuto grunted, rubbing his swollen eyes.

”What time—?”

”Almost ten, so get yer ass outta bed or we’re gonna be late.”

Bokuto shot out of bed, “TEN—“

Why didn’t his alarm go off— fuck, he forgot he turned his phone off.

Bokuto ran from room to room, toothbrush hanging from his mouth as he rifled through his drawers for clothes.

Atsumu’s eye twitched as he glanced at the time, “So, uh— Ya didn’t answer any of our texts last night,” he said, crossing his arms as he watched Bokuto running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

He pulled the toothbrush from his mouth, “I turned my phone off,” was all he replied with, putting the toothbrush back in to pull on his uniform shorts before running back into the bathroom.

”Ya gonna tell what happened or keep me in the dark?” He called out.

Bokuto spit the toothpaste from his mouth, coming out of the bathroom with his jersey on now. Atsumu standing up and passing his bag to his friend.

”There’s nothing to tell,” he replied sadly, walking out of the room with Atsumu in tow. “She thinks we’re incompatible because she’s a Beta and I’m an Alpha.” He rifled through his fridge, pulling out a bento he had meal prepped earlier in the week before shoving it into his bag.

”So what? Yer just gonna stop courtin’ her now because she thinks it wouldn’t work out between ya?” The idea sounded preposterous, this was the same man that relentlessly courted you for nine months straight when any other alpha would have called it quits after one week.

”She begged me to stop,” he replied bitterly, grabbing his phone from the living room as the two finally made their way out of his apartment, “Whatever Ushiwaka said when he rejected her made her not want to be with a ‘strong Alpha’… whatever that means.”

”Well the percentage of successful Alpha/Beta relationships is pretty low.”

Bokuto threw a glare over his shoulder at his friend.

He put his hands up in defense, “I’m just sayin’.”

”I know,” he snapped, “I’ve done some research. I just thought if she saw how much I liked her all of that wouldn’t matter. But it does… apparently Ushiwaka’s words mean more to her than my actions.”

Atsumu narrowed his eyes, studying the back of Bokuto’s head. Something about how he said ‘Ushiwaka’ didn’t sit right with him.

Especially knowing they would be playing him in the match today.

”Yer not gonna let this fuck with ya today right? Not gonna fuck up our chance getting to the championship?”

Bokuto stopped in his tracks, Atsumu almost walking right into him. “You know ‘m not in high school anymore. I can control myself on the court Tsum Tsum.”

His scent was bitter.

Atsumu tensed his jaw. Bokuto was not alright.

”Fine.” He spat, “But I’m telling coach and Meian to keep an eye on you—“

Bokuto turned, gripping Atsumu’s arm, “So coach can pull me out the second he thinks I’m getting too emotional?” He spat, more malice than he had heard in his voice in a long time. “I’ll be fine— if you get me pulled out before I can beat the Adler’s today I’ll never forgive you.” He dropped his arm, practically throwing it before turning back around and continuing towards the train station.

Atsumu tsked. He certainly did not miss Bokuto saying ‘I’ instead of ‘we’.

Bokuto didn’t say much more than that as they climbed onto the train, hanging onto the hand rails as they went towards the gym.

They’d be late for their call time but they knew you always scheduled the bus to arrive a half hour after the players arrival.

You always played it safe like that, scheduling time to account for fuck ups.

The thought of you with your nose in your agenda, scheduling things like you always did caused a pang in his heart.

He used to imagine coming up behind you while you scribbled away, pulling you into his arms while you worked.

All those little fantasies he came up with were quickly crumbling before his eyes.

He sighed sadly, pulling his phone out and turning it on for the day.

As his phone loaded, notifications started flooding in. All texts from his teammates… it looked like pretty much everyone knew which he wasn’t surprised, of course telling Atsumu and Hinata would make the news spread like wildfire. He also had texts from his sisters and even his parents, which also didn’t surprise him all that much. The texts that did surprise him were Kuroo’s, Akaashi’s, and even Kenma’s.

Everyone knew.

He scrolled through the texts for a bit but they only proved to make him more irritated, especially after his conversation with Atsumu.

Most of the messages were calling you an idiot or stupid, that he could do better, that he should pursue Omegas again and how you weren’t worth it.

He shoved his phone angrily into his bag.

No one got it. No one ever understood why he liked you. He knew his teammates thought it was a waste of time and energy but they weren’t there. They weren’t in that locker room when you walked in shyly and all flustered when you admitted you left your clothes at home and offered yourself for him to scent instead.

They weren’t the ones that held you in their arms that day and felt the anger wash away from them as an entirely new comforting feeling took place. You smelled like home. It was different from the sweet, enticing scent of an Omega’s. Yours was warm and inviting— it was everything he needed in that moment. He could remember so clearly how stiff you were at first but how you eventually melted into his arms, like you had never been held before.

Whenever someone found out he was courting a Beta they always seemed to ask how could he feel like a good, useful Alpha if he would be mated to a Beta, who were typically known for being independent.

But they didn’t know you wanted to be held.

He had to be the one to tell you he should go back to the match, you had been falling asleep in his arms as he ran his nose along your neck and breathed you in, clinging to his arms that were wound around your waist.

You didn’t want to leave either.

Seeing you turn back into your normal, professional self hadn’t been easy after that, but it was all the more reason to start courting you.

He wanted to feel you melt in his arms again while he scented you.

”Ya alright man?” Atsumu asked carefully, peering at Bokuto’s face. His eyes were red.

He sniffled, “‘M fine… Sorry about before,” he added as an afterthought.

”It’s fine. I get it,” He replied as the train came to a stop.

The two Alphas got off the train and made their way to the gym. It was 10:20.

They were late.

”Man— we’re so fuckin’ late. Now she’s gonna nag us the entire ride there,” Atsumu groaned.

Him, Atsumu, and Hinata tended to be on the receiving end of your scoldings as the three were always either late or not where they were supposed to be.

It was the reason you started scheduling everyone to arrive a half hour early before games, after having to hold the bus up for the three when you had first started working with them.

Bokuto wasn’t sure what he expected or wanted. You’d probably go back to being the same old professional you with that unreadable facade of yours. You’d probably yell at him and Atsumu for being late, not bothering to acknowledge what happened yesterday.

Or maybe you’d be kinder, give a gentle reminder to come in on time before discussing today’s details with the coach.

What happened was much worse.

Both he and Atsumu stepped into the gym and you…

You didn’t even look at him.

It caught Atsumu off guard as well. Realizing you weren’t marching over to them to reprimand their lateness he slid his eyes over to his friend.

He was just staring at you.

”C’mon,” Atsumu grunted, grabbing his arm and dragging him over to the other players that were standing around.

Bokuto felt stuck in a daze, eyes continuing to follow you as Atsumu dragged him around.

You were dressed in your business casual like you always were on game days as you’d be on camera and also talking to representatives of the teams’ sponsors that were in attendance. Your hair was in one of your little tight buns that often made him wonder what you’d look like with your pretty hair down and framing your face.

You were talking to the coach and one of the athletic trainers.

You still didn’t look at him.

Ami also stood next to you, raising a hand towards him in a small wave. She wore a sad frown.

He waved back still caught in a daze.

”Did you get any sleep last night?” Hinata asked, pulling Bokuto back into the present.

He was eyeing Bokuto up and down, taking in his sorry state.

“Some,” he responded with, finally managing to look away from you.

”This is a joke right?” Sakusa looked over to Atsumu, clearly irritated. “She did this the day before an Adler’s game?”

”Don’t get me started on that,” Atsumu grumbled, “I think that’s the most unbelievable part in all this.”

Tomas clapped Bokuto on the back, “Chin up man. This kind of stuff happens all the time, what’s important is focusing on today’s game.”

Inunaki nodded, “Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea and all that y’know.”

”But I like her,” Bokuto said, furrow in his brow as he stared at his feet.

”Maybe you can ask out her sister?” Joffe suggested, “You two seem to get along.”

”I already called dibs!” Atsumu cut in.

Sakusa rolled his eyes, “She’s clearly not interested in idiots.”

Bokuto was surrounded by his team, by his friends, but he had never felt so isolated.

As they bickered over Ami, Bokuto dragged his eyes back towards you, looking over his shoulder.

Your back was to him now as you talked to your sister.

It looked like you two were arguing.

”C’mon Bokuto, that’s enough,” Barnes gripped his shoulder, “I know it hurts now but now that it’s out in the open you can finally move on.”

Move on.

He supposed that’s what was expected of him now.

But he didn’t want to move on.

”Right,” he said. The word felt empty.

The ride to the stadium was all too fast and all too slow.

He sat where he usually did in the back with Hinata, Atsumu, and Sakusa, while you sat at the front with your sister.

Every once in a while you would turn, giving him a view of your pretty profile that he had grown so used to seeing.

He didn’t understand why whatever Ushiwaka told you changed how you viewed dating Alphas so much.

What could he have said that broken you so much that you haven’t tried dating again for four whole years.

And why were you still listening to him.

Bokuto was a better Alpha than Ushiwaka, he was kinder and respected everyone not bothering to pay so much attention to the hierarchy that was the second gender. Traditional Alphas such as Ushijima had that hierarchy so ingrained in them that they only respected those they deemed worthy of it.

Was Bokuto not even good enough for you to reconsider something one Alpha told you once.

What made Ushijima Wakatoshi better than him.

Were you just subconsciously following the stronger Alpha?

Ami suddenly turned in her seat, glancing at him before whispering something in your ear.

Atsumu grabbed Bokuto by the shoulder and shook him from his thoughts. “Ya gotta calm down. Yer scent is startin’ to stink up the bus and it’s scarin’ the Omega,” he nodded in Ami’s direction as she glanced back again.

Bokuto groaned, dipping his head and burying his face in his hands.

”I know we already talked about it, but yer sure ya’ll be fine?”

”It’ll be different when I’m on court,” is all he responded with.

It will be different.

It’ll be completely different when he’s standing across from Ushijima.

By the time they arrived and the bus parked, you were already running off with Ami. Probably to find her seat or start networking like you usually did at these games.

They had two hours before the game would start. They’d spend an hour getting situated and another hour warming up and doing all the pep talks. You would probably come back a half hour before the start time.

Bokuto did all the things expected of him. He did his best to focus on the conversations between his friends. Hinata was excited to see Kageyama again, the two making plans to eat out and inviting anyone else that wants to come.

He listened to his teammates attempts at trying to make him feel better. Once again calling you stupid and an idiot for not wanting to go out with him. These guys were supposed to respect you as a colleague and here they were insulting you for his sake.

He couldn’t understand why they thought that would make him feel better.

But after settling in for a bit and ignoring the consolations he started to feel a bit better. He knew he had to get into game mode and if his past has taught him anything it was that letting your emotions run rampant on court often lead to many fuck ups.

But he had matured since high school. He learned how to regulate his emotions and keep his instincts in check since then.

He was an adult now. He played volleyball professionally. He can separate his personal life from his professional life.

The game was about to start. Warm ups had gone smoothly and everyone, including Bokuto, was focused.

They were all going to be called onto the court soon.

The energy was ramping up as Meian concluded his speech in the locker room, all the players cheering for the win they knew they would be getting today.

”(Y/N) should be in any minute now to call us out, so get any last minute bathroom breaks or anything else out of the way now.” Meian announced.

”I’m gonna fill my bottle in the hallway,” Bokuto said, standing up.

”Yer already done with that?” Atsumu laughed, smacking his back, “Ya gonna piss all over the court?”

Bokuto laughed. It was strained, but he still managed a laugh.

He ran out into the hallway with his bottle and towards the water fountain, beginning to fill it up.

Screwing the top back on and aiming to head back inside, he looked up.

He stopped, head tilting.

It was you and Ushiwaka standing at the end of the hallway, talking.

Smiling.

You hadn’t even looked at him today but you were smiling at Ushijima.

He took a step towards the two of you then stopped.

He clenched his fist tight, his chest feeling tight and constricted before deciding to go back to the locker room.

He couldn’t help but feel that maybe he really just wasn’t good enough for you.

You walked in two minutes later, standing in the doorway.

”Alright guys, time to get out there!” You exclaimed. The others all cheered as they ran out while you shouted encouragements as usual.

Time seemed to slow down as he passed by you.

”Good luck, Bokuto-san,” you said, quieter than your other encouragements to everyone else.

Bokuto-san

He was no longer Koutarou to you. He was Koutarou for all of ten minutes of your life and now he would forever be Bokuto-san.

He didn’t reply.

He couldn’t as his eyes searched and landed on only one person throughout the stadium. He wouldn’t look away, not even when he stood across from him on the court.

Bokuto had completely locked onto Ushiwaka.

“Bokkun,” Atsumu called out as a warning as he stood beside him.

”I’m fine.” He snapped.

”Ya better be,” he grumbled under his breath.

Bokuto had always been emotional. Everyone always chalked it up to his instincts, and maybe they were right. But he rarely got angry like most Alphas did. He was more likely to find himself sad and depressed.

But right now as he stared down Ushiwaka, an anger that was buried down so deep was being dug up.

An anger he didn’t even know that lived inside him.

It was raw and dangerous and—

Feral.

* * * *

25 - 25

The first set was officially going into overtime.

Coach Samson shook his head, “The Adler’s got ‘em,” he grumbled under his breath, “We’re gonna have to bench Bokuto.”

You swallowed uneasily, heart pounding in your chest.

”I think you’re right,” you breathed out.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen such reckless plays be made by Bokuto your entire time with MSBY.

He just seemed so angry.

”I don’t understand what happened,” Samson said, leaning forward as he watched the game with scrutinizing eyes, “He was playing better than ever in yesterday’s practice.”

You tensed your jaw.

You fucked up.

Your phone buzzed.

Ami: ‘I told you you should’ve told him this morning that you changed your mind’

You were going to be sick.

You really fucked up.

You texted back furiously.

‘I can fucking see that now. I thought it could wait until after, I didn’t think he was gonna be like this’

Ami: ‘I told you this is what Alphas do. Can you call a time out or something? Tell him you’ll go on a date with him and send them back out there’

You scoffed at your phone.

”Shit,” Samson hissed. The ref blew the whistle.

Your head snapped up at break neck speed.

27-25 Adlers

Your phone buzzed again.

Ami: ‘TELL HIM NOW!!!!’

There was a knot in your throat as you watched the team return to the bench with their heads down and fists clenched.

There was clearly a lot of animosity brewing between the players. Bokuto had been recklessly locked onto Ushijima and aiming his hits at him, causing them to miss multiple points.

They probably could have won if it wasn’t for that.

Atsumu had lost his cool long ago right at the start when he realized what was going on, snapping and shouting at Bokuto the longer the set went on. Meian was stuck having to mediate between the two and Sakusa, Hinata, and Inunaki were growing more and more irate.

They were barely recognizable as a team in their emotional states.

Ami was right. You wanted to talk to him after the game and in private to let him know you had thought longer about going out with him. You wanted to tell him that you were wrong, you were stupid and an idiot for allowing an Alpha like Ushijima to disillusion you for so long and keep you from the things you truly wanted.

You wanted it to be a bit more romantic when you were planning out what you were going to say in your head and you knew both you and him needed to focus today but clearly you’ve already put this conversation off for too long.

You stood up alongside Samson as the team reached the bench.

“Bokuto!” Samson snapped, standing up and meeting the group with you following not far behind. “What’s gotten into you!?”

”I’m fine,” he kept his head down.

”No, you’re not fine. I know you have better game sense than that! You practically handed over the winning point!”

”Bench him!” Atsumu spat, “He’s gonna cost us the championship!”

”You’re not helping Miya,” Samson snapped back. “You need to calm down too, you could have set to Hinata back there. You’re letting Bokuto’s mood influence you.” He turned back to Bokuto, “I’m pulling you out of the next set until you cool down—“

Bokuto’s head snapped up, ”I said I’m fine! I have to keep playing, I’m gonna win this!”

”Not like that you aren’t! You’re gonna sit and (Y/N)’s gonna give you something to scent until you cool down, understood?”

”But I—!”

”Understood?” He cut him off with a hiss.

Bokuto’s jaw tensed, locking as he gave a curt nod.

You cleared your throat, “Bokuto-san, I would like to speak with you privately—“

”Oh please,” Atsumu sneered, turning to you. “Plannin’ on makin’ this worse? Yer the whole reason why we’re in this mess in the first place,” he took a step towards you, puffing his chest out, “Would it have really been that hard to break his heart after the match?”

You took a step back, eyes widened, ”Hey, I—“

”Get away from her,” Bokuto suddenly stepped in front of you, pushing Atsumu back by his shoulders, “She did nothing wrong!”

Atsumu pushed him back, getting in his face, “Did nothing wrong!?” He spat back, “She rejected ya of all people before an Adler’s game! How fuckin’ brain dead is she—“

Atsumu’s head flew to the side, face suddenly radiating with a burning, bruising pain.

His top lip was wet.

Bokuto fucking punched him.

Your jaw hung open as you watched the complete chaos that ensued. Meian was holding Bokuto back from trying to attack Atsumu, Sakusa was suddenly holding Atsumu back as he looked as if he was about to attack back.

You stared at Bokuto, his face red, a snarl screwing up his features as the tendons in his neck bulged as he tried to get Atsumu.

It was scary.

You don’t think you’ve ever thought Bokuto was scary before—

”Coach,” Meian suddenly barked, “I think he might be going feral!”

”Get him to the locker room!” He called back.

There were referees suddenly approaching you.

It felt like your ears were filled with cotton as you barely caught anything they were telling you as you watched Meian and some of the other players haul Bokuto away as he continued to struggle in their hold.

”(Y/N)!” You were suddenly jolted from the daze you were in. “Calm him down, give him the clothes off your back if you have to.”

”Right!”

You went into action and ran after them, ignoring the ref’s.

You left the duffle bag of clothing you always brought under the bench.

You were barely thinking as you started unbuttoning the blouse you were wearing and ripping it off, leaving you in your tank top.

The second you were close enough and that locker room door was being opened, you threw your blouse in just after Bokuto was being shoved through and locked inside.

”What was that?” Meian asked you, panting as he made sure the door was shut tight.

Bokuto was throwing his body against the door from the other side, making it shake in it’s frame.

”My shirt. My scent should be stronger on it since I’ve been wearing it all day. Get back to the court, I’ll take care of him from here.”

“You sure, it sounds like he getting pretty violent in there.”

You nodded, “I’m a Beta, my whole selling point is being able to calm down Alphas.”

”Alright, I’ll leave him to you then.” He said with a nod before running back to the court.

Your attention was brought back to the locker room and the loud, harsh bangs and thuds that emitted from the room.

“What a mess,” you groaned, leaning against the wall beside the door.

Atsumu was right, this was all your fault.

Yesterday, in the moment it felt crueler to let his crush on you drag on any longer. And it didn’t feel right to tell him you had gone and changed your mind after the fucking waterworks you pulled knowing he had a game to focus on.

You just didn’t want to be a distraction— you didn’t realize how that would come back to bite you in the ass.

And now you just felt like a bitch.

You slid to the ground, sitting on the floor, waiting for Bokuto to quiet down. You’d eventually go in there to assess the situation for yourself, you’d let him scent you if he was still too far gone in his emotional state, and you’d tell him you changed your mind hoping he didn’t hate you too much because of it.

You watched the next set start from where you sat. It seemed they managed to clean up Atsumu and get him back in the game.

You hadn’t even thought about the entire team being pissed at you for turning Bokuto down before an Adler’s game… Atsumu had never yelled at you before.

It seemed the reputation you built was crumbling before your eyes.

1-0 Adlers

2-4 Adlers

6-5 Adlers

7-6 MSBY

7-7

8-7 MSBY

Bokuto was quiet.

It took you a few minutes with all the excitement of your team turning the set in their favor for you to realize Bokuto was quiet.

You slid over to the door and pressed your ear against it.

Nothing.

Your breath hitched, heart steadily beginning to beat faster in your chest.

You stood up and with shaky hands you unlocked the door, quietly slipping in.

The room was almost eerily quiet as there was no sign of him.

The locker room was turned inside out. Lockers were dented in, the players belongings were scattered all over the place, some of which being torn to shreds.

He had even managed to get one end of the bolted down bench up.

The bloody tracks on the lockers didn’t go unnoticed by you either.

”Bokuto-san?” You called out gently, venturing in deeper into the locker room.

There was no reply, but it didn’t take you very long to find him after that.

In the far corner of the locker room, Bokuto had managed to wedge himself into a corner between two sets of lockers.

He was missing his jersey, covered in a layer of sweat, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths with his nose buried in the collar of your blouse like a life line. His eyes were red and swollen as if he had been crying.

Your blouse was covered in blood stains from the open wounds on his knuckles.

And those sad, puppy eyes from yesterday found you once more.

Your shoulders slumped at the sorry sight, heart clenching painfully for him.

You walked over to him, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

You didn’t know what to say, “… Would you like to scent me?” You offered, doubtful he’d take you up on the offer after yesterday.

He stared at you for a long while with those sad eyes before nodding.

You shuffled over, kneeling before him— he had pulled you into his arms, turning you around to sit between his legs as he buried his nose into your neck.

And you sat like that for a few minutes, letting him calm down as he held you and breathed in your scent.

It didn’t bother you that he was covering you in his sweat or what felt suspiciously like tears wetting your neck. He had clearly had a very rough and emotional twenty four hours and you wanted to be there for him.

The feeling of being held in his arms with his face against your neck was familiar. You had chosen to block out the memory, chalking it up as you helping another co-worker but you couldn’t deny that it felt nice to be held.

You melted against him.

”I… may have changed my mind,” you forced out. His body stiffened around you, tensing at your words but he didn’t reply. You never wished more to have the same sense of smell as an Alpha or Omega just so you could know how he was feeling.

But you didn’t, so you had to do this the only way you knew how.

”After yesterday I went home and told Ami everything that happened and… well, she got really mad at me and we ended up talking for a very, very long time,” you sighed, “You see I… I never told anyone what Ushiwaka told me the day he rejected me and since that’s why I rejected you yesterday, Ami forced me to tell her what he had said all those years ago… and after telling her, I felt like you deserved to know too.”

You sucked in a breath, bracing yourself, “He told me relationships between Alphas and Betas weren’t real. There would always be a better, more suitable mate for them out there and once they found that then the Beta would be replaced. He went into detail after that as to why it wouldn’t work out, which was all the typical stuff you hear about scents and ruts… I’ve done years and years of research into relationships between both Alphas and Betas and Betas and Omegas before, I knew all the arguments as to why they don’t work but I never thought of myself as being replaceable…” your voice wavered, “I’ve dreamed about meeting the right person and falling in love since I was little and I just… I don’t want to be a placeholder until someone better comes along,” you sniffled, a couple tears slipping from your eyes.

”I would never do that to you,” Bokuto murmured against your neck, voice raw and raspy.

You found your hand squeezing one of the arms wrapped around you.

”After I told Ami that, she reminded me of something that I’ve always known but I guess I managed to forget,” you continued, wiping at your face with your free hand. “My great grandmother was a Beta— that’s where the gene comes from. And my great grandfather… he was an Alpha… I grew up listening to stories about them, I was always more interested in their relationship than my siblings were. My great grandma died when she was 59 and he died at 96. He never remarried. My grandma said her father loved her mother too much to ever think about another woman.” You cried, “And then I just kept remembering all these super crazy romantic stories about them and they had their own issues come up but they never stopped loving each other and I realized last night… There’s no reason why I shouldn’t at least try dating an Alpha if they were able to do it. So… if you’re not too upset with me for putting you through such an emotional rollercoaster, I would like to ask you out on a date Bokuto-san.”

The feeling of asking someone out and wearing your heart on your sleeve felt so familiar, you were already prepared for a rejection.

”Koutarou,” he softly corrected.

“Kota,” you shortened, biting back a watery grin, “Would you like to go out with me on Valentine’s Day to see a movie and eat cake for dinner?”

”Yes,” he breathed out, “More than anything else.”

”Okay,” you nodded, “Then it’s a date. I’m sorry for being stubborn and acting like an idiot.”

He hugged you close to his chest, “You’re not an idiot.”

You swore you could feel him smile against your neck.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, sitting in his arms as he nosed at your neck, prodding at your scent gland and reaching a more emotionally stable state for him. It was the end of the third set before you managed to get him up and help him finish pulling himself together before sending him out on court with kiss to his cheek and an exchange of hopeful smiles.

You loved love.

And as you watched Bokuto score the winning point before turning to you with his finger pointed in your direction, you were beginning to think it was meant for you after all.

————————————————————————

Epilogue

Taglist (open): @staygoldsquatchling02 @tillyt04 @niiiya @silverhairsimp @/rosellerinfrost @/leonphi @/lunamochii

#haikyuu #haikyuu omegaverse #omegaverse #alpha Bokuto Koutarou #alpha bokuto koutarou x reader #alpha Bokuto #alpha bokuto x reader #Bokuto Koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #Bokuto #bokuto x reader

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year ago

Note

Ser Criston is OC Princess (Rhaenyra’s younger sister) sworn protector & is in love with her but he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help being obsessed and Rhaenyra hates it because it’s her little sister & so one night she asks Ser Criston to sneak out for a walk and they kiss & get caught by Rhaenyra idk

Hi yes I totally got carried away bc Criston has me in a chokehold rn. I hope you enjoy, I love the obsessed aspects. I also got to explore the other indications in F&B that insinuated Cole rejected Rhaenyra. Thanks for the ask🥰🥰 I don’t usually do OC’s but since it’s a Targ I mean I can only leave so much up to interpretation! But it was fun and diff

Rating: Mature

Tags: Forbidden love, unreliable narrator, Criston’s POV, oc-ish Princess reader, Sorry I made Rhae a bitch ugh, Criston’s snappy ass, Alicent is his bestie, masturbation, fantasies, dark Criston, virgin reader, clit orgasm, open ending, angst and pining galore, Religious Guilt, Harwin doing his best okay?, character study-ish, obsessive/possessive Criston

Word count: About 6k

@aemonds-holy-milk @aemonddtargaryen

Lucerra Targaryen, called Cerra, was oft said to be the spitting image of the late Queen Aemma. She retained more of her father’s demeanor, none of the resolute strength of Aemma and the fiery nature of young Rhaenyra. The fire that had entranced Criston once. He was told all of Cerra’s quirks when they made him her sworn shield.

He so much did not glance Rhaenyra’s way now, the burly Ser Harwin towering over the heir. They shared a kiss once, Criston ran, their close bond was severed. He knew down deep she coveted her uncle. It burned him, but he did his duty. The duty hanging around his shoulders like a lead weight— just cloaked in white wool. Criston found himself bewitched again.

The sweet Cerra, her gentle innocence and piousness. Something unmarred, not yet tainted by the world. The knight wondered if she was the maiden reborn, sent to test him. He prayed and prayed and confessed repeatedly to get rid of the wicked sin in his heart. Usually after touching himself.

Criston had always been weak when it came to the fairer sex. He’d fall madly in love like a boy and his first fuck. Just no fucking, more of the merest scrap of appreciation and touch had him by the vulnerable throat.

He coveted the young princess badly. Sometimes she would grab his palm when frightened, or on a walk to the Sept. Criston felt disgusting wondering how that soft hand would feel around his cock, the pale flesh clashing against ruddy. Cerra didn’t know, couldn’t know how weak he was.

Rhaenyra obviously knew of the metaphorical chink in the armor. She was becoming increasingly nosy of her sister’s doings as of late. He sourly thought to himself, ‘spoiled cunt couldn’t have me, of course she’ll make sure I part from her sweet sister.’ He frowned in annoyance at the elder’s recent interruption.

He’d merely helped her up to reach a flower in a tall bush. Certainly didn’t expect chaste Cerra to be so…close. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, startling him as she sighed, “You’re too kind Ser Criston, my white knight. What would I do without you?” She didn’t mean anything licentious, the Princess never did. Once a lordling flirted and she blushed to her ears and called for Criston to escort her away.

He preened about that for days. He’d heard the idiot boy scoff, “Stupid Dornish mutt.” Criston grinned and leaned toward the shorter lad, keeping his voice low. The princess shouldn’t hear such filth. He hissed, “This mutt would be glad to cave your fucking skull in with a Morningstar. Don’t come near the Princess ever again.” That was that. Back to his original thought.

At the moment Criston couldn’t help but sink into her soft gesture, pale white waves and lavender eyes gazing up as she laid her head on his chest. The brunette laid a chaste hand on her waist, but the moony look on his face was likely brighter than the Hightower’s beacon.

“My lady is kinder, no need to praise your sworn shield, merely doing my duty Princess.”

His cock was full to bursting at her sweet scent and wide eyes, framed by pretty lashes. Cerra closed those lavender orbs and inhaled gently, relaxing in the center of the Godswood. Criston’s hand thumbed little circles into her waist, feeling the princess relax more, leaning into his stronger frame, lips subtly parting.

“Cole! This is an unseemly position to be seen in with my sister if Larys’ spies are about,” Rhaenyra called with a smile and cocked head. Lucerra stepped back with a gasp, flush flooding her cheeks. She stammered, “R-Rhaenyra, no no, I w-was simply.”

“Simply what?”

Criston cooled his expression to state, “The princess was expressing her gratitude for me. Nothing more.”

Lucerra nodded, gesturing to the knight, cheeks still flaming and eyes downcast. She certainly wasn’t acting as if this was innocent. Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes and stepped forward to grab her sister’s hand. Casting a glare toward him she hissed, “I need her for the afternoon, you can wait outside the door.”

He stiffly nodded, anger flaring up in his chest so violently Criston feared he would yell at the heir. Instead he murmured, “Yes princess.” From a distance he trailed the two blondes, aggravated as all Seven Hells. Rhaenyra never paid attention to Cerra, especially since having her first babe. Damned bitch. Where was her loyal whore Harwin?

Waiting outside Rhaenyra’s chambers, Criston thought over her precious sister’s actions. He wondered what it would be like to touch her more. Graze over her sensitive neck, breasts, lower belly. She’d probably squeal if he suckled on a pretty tit. He inhaled sharply, catching himself on a low moan. Repentance would be in order soon.

Maybe he was being punished now— waiting outside like a mangy dog.

For hours.

Cerra came back out with a strange look, apologizing, “Sorry Ser Criston, that went longer than expected, I didn’t think my sister would want that much of the day. Shall we head to supper?”

He nodded, extending an arm forward. The princess was quiet, eyes flicking toward him a couple of times. Criston asked, “Yes princess?” Lucerra stopped on a dime and faced him, face close to tears. She warbled, “You’re not mad are you? I- I can’t deny family. Rhaenyra actually uh- helped. I was acting imprudent in the Godswood, I apologize for being wanton and brazen Ser.”

Oh. Criston blinked a couple of times. She was expressing more than mere affection? He wiped away her tear with a gloved hand, sighing, “No princess, I could never be mad at you, what’s in the past is in the past. You are anything but wanton, the picture of the maiden to me. Don’t let her scare you.”

She smiled, tipping forward on her feet some, eyes entrapping Cole easily. Then he was engulfed into a hug again. What had brought in this madness? He couldn’t complain, yet.

She breathed, “Oh, oh I was so worried you’d be mad. We should go to the sept tomorrow, yes?” The knight’s lips quirked up as he replied, “That sounds splendid my Princess, we shall go in the morn. Now let’s get you to dinner?”

She grabbed his hand again, practically skipping, chattering now about her time with ‘big sister’. Criston listened, he always did, but he needed to go jack his cock before going mad. Then wallow in guilt about it all night at the edge of Cerra’s room. She preferred him taking watch from inside her quarters. Such a frightened little lamb.

Wallow in guilt did he. While the princess slept in her grand bed, Criston couldn’t help but replay the shame in his head. As soon as he’d escorted her to dinner, he went to his quarters and stripped down heavy armor and pants. The man shuddered at the sensation of cool air hitting his achingly flushed cock.

He pictured the pristine Targaryen underneath his tanned body, writhing with pleasure. Criston spat on his hand and worked his prick, panting softly. Cerra’s doe eyes would be teary, overwhelmed with the pleasures of the flesh. She’d whine while he’d pump into her virgin cunt, “Oh, Criston, oh gods! Don’t stop!” The knight gasped and shuddered at the thought, groaning as he spilled all over his hand.

He blinked again, running a hand through his hair. Lucerra was awake, hair shining like silver under the moonlight. She spoke in a soft rasp, “Ser Cole, are you still here?” He laughed at her silly question, replying, “As always, can’t trade me out like the Cargylls.”

“Oh, good,” she pulled the covers off the bed and stretched, white nightgown pulling in the right wrong places, “I had a horrid dream. I can’t possibly go back to sleep yet.”

Criston frowned at her admission— it pained his heart to have her upset. He questioned, “A bad dream? What was it about?” She stepped onto the cold marble floor, shivering, shrugging on a thicker robe hung nearby. His eyes followed her smaller form come closer, curling up in a plush chair adjacent to his position. She wiped a hand across her face, still groggy.

“I can hardly remember now. I was alone, so alone, not even my dragon was around. I k-kept calling out for someone, probably you,” she pulled the robe tighter, “I don’t know. Maybe it was the wine.”

Cerra’s lips were drawn tight, brows pulled together. Criston wanted to pull the pretty girl onto his lap, she was still shivery. He thought of a decent response, something comforting. The knight settled on, “It was obviously a dream, I’d never desert you my Princess. That big white beast wouldn’t either.”

Her lips curled up to let out a tinkling laugh— making Criston’s sick heart skip a beat. Cerra replied, “Cloudwing is not a beast! She’s a good girl.” The brunette chuckled along with the Targaryen, smiling helplessly, such a lovesick dumb dog was he.

A beat of silence grew over them, heavy with something. The earlier revelation of Lucerra behaving with romantic intentions still lay undiscussed. Criston suggested gently, “You will catch a cold if you do not get back under the covers, princess. You won’t be alone, I swore an oath.”

One he would break if she just asked. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted that truly or not. He’d gotten quite far being the son of a common born steward.

She bit her lower lip and shrugged, “I’d much rather sit with you Ser Criston. I’ll be okay as long as I keep my feet off the dreadful stone.”

“Lucerra, please, shall I pick you up then? You need sleep, the Sept remember?”

Her gaze locked onto the white knight’s intensely. Lucerra fidgeted with her robe, the damn air growing heavier. Criston found it hard to think when she was being so confusing. She finally spoke, a meek whisper, “Yes, that would be nice, thank you.”

Lifting the blonde was easy, her squeak and grasp onto his shoulders adorable. Criston had to bat away more thoughts about how simple she was to handle. He laid her down gently, taking the coat she shrugged off. Lucerra grabbed onto his hand with a fervent tightness as he turned back to his chair.

“Please, don’t leave me so alone, I don’t care what Rhaenyra says. Just keep me warm?”

Her pretty face was achingly raw, open, eyes tinged with fear. Criston swallowed heavily. He was weak. He couldn’t run away this time. Didn’t want to run away, bask in the sweet sin. Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe it was a test from the seven.

“Criston?”

“Yes, just, just- give me a second to get my armor off.”

Now he was shivery with want, warring with trepidation. Ridding his body of armor was horribly slow. The awkward clank of each piece coming off. Each heavy noise reminded him what he was potentially giving up. Soon Criston remained in simple breeches and a linen shirt. Lucerra pulled back the covers and smiled nervously.

He climbed onto the soft bed, pulling the blankets back over their frames. Unsure of what came next, Criston simply laid on his back and gazed at her. Lucerra murmured, “Must you be the pious one now?” He raised an amused brow at the bold comment.

“What’s that supposed to mean princess?”

She frowned and nestled into his side, wrapping an arm around him and tucking soft hair into the crook of shoulder and jaw. Criston exhaled sharply, unused to such intimate touch after donning the white cloak. He reached over to grab her leg, pulling it snug across his lower belly, thankfully out of the way of his swelling prick.

Cerra gasped against his neck, giggling, “Good, now I don’t feel like a concubine.”

“Concubine? Pfft. You’re white as snow compared to my cloak,” he replied.

“It’ll be our secret, I’d fear I would perish without my white knight. I swear it upon my heart.”

He couldn’t respond, lest it be something out of control. Instead he rubbed her back and knee, squeezing once in agreement with Cerra’s statement. Soon she fell asleep, softly puffing against his neck. Criston joined soon after, utterly content and warm.

The simple action of cuddling up couldn’t slake the thirst that grew within him for the lovely princess. They had remained chaste and he arose early every morn to get dressed and step back outside the wooden door. Lucerra would seek out touches in secret, holding pinkies with him, laying her head on an armored shoulder in the Godswood.

She would share smiles with the knight across the throne room, Rhaenyra’s calculating look upon the utterly obvious pair. Criston knew one could see into his bleeding heart if they looked into his eyes. The way Princess Lucerra grew tighter and tighter into his side around the keep, lavender eyes sparkling aroused many curious onlookers.

Rumors began to swirl. Criston reluctantly stood outside her chambers a couple nights a week. One night he encountered a poorly prying Harwin Strong. The fellow knight had made one too many passes and he called out, “Get your big ass over here!” He didn’t mind Harwin, but did mind being spied on.

The hand’s son looked sullen as he walked up to Criston, flicking down a dark hood. He gave a sheepish smile, apologizing, “Uh, you know, the girls want what they want.” Criston crossed his arms and deadpanned, “Your girl wants me expelled from King’s Landing on account of rumors”

Harwin gave him a look, disgusting pity lacing his features. Criston reiterated, “The girl remains pure, she looks to me as a protector, you know how easily frightened the princess has always been.” Somehow he felt like a liar. Still her pretty lips and cunt remained untouched.

“Sure Cole. Just be careful, you know what the punishment is of breaking your oath.”

Criston’s temper flared to life, taunting Harwin with a fake smile, “You be careful too now, two Valyrians making some beautiful brown haired babes is a bit strange no?”

Harwin shoved him into the door with a snarl. Breakbones’ power at full force knocked the wind out of Criston, but he wheezed a laugh. He was no better than him— just another lovesick fool. Strong rumbled, “Keep your damn mouth shut and I’ll stay on my side, but I know you got the princess primed for your dirty lowborn cock.”

Criston didn’t want to get his face pummeled in. The raucous already probably woke his sweetling. He gave another smarmy look and hummed, “Noted, Strong.” That earned the knight another shove and the burly man stomped off to lick the bitch’s teats.

The door opened behind Criston, a bewildered Lucerra in her robe. She questioned, “W-what was that? Are you alright Ser Criston? Come in, please.”

His dark eyes scanned down the hallway once more before stepping inside, sighing as she enveloped him into a warm embrace. Criston spoke lowly, “Big sister had sent her own shield to spy on me. We should be more careful.”

Lucerra frowned, lips setting into a pout. She murmured, “We’ve done nothing horrid. Yes, unseemly, but I’m intact. Turn around, let me get off this dreaded armor.” Criston appreciated her desire to learn how to discard his Kingsguard armor— although he averted guilty eyes from the way the Targaryen would carefully hang his cloak, like it still meant something.

As they laid together, she complained into his neck, lithe fingers playing with his inky hair, “You’re right, we should be more courtly, take more precaution. Of all of my sister’s misgivings, why does she care?”

Criston played dumb, it’s what he was anyway. Lied again and said he had no clue why Rhaenyra took such a deep distaste to the pair’s relationship. He sighed, “It will work out, more careful, yes. C’mon, to sleep, sorry about the noise.”

Another night in her arms was a blessing to Criston. He would be reluctantly busy the next day. The king needed a whole retainer for his appearance in public at the Dragonpit. It was the anniversary of Aegon’s landing. Luckily the princess would be in his peripheral. Along with the conniving heir and her other eyes.

It was a banal affair, King Viserys smiling and waving to the crowds. Queen Alicent held her youngest child, Daeron. Rhaenyra and Laenor were surrounded by her bastard brood, holding her own babe Joffrey. Named after that flimsy knight who Laenor was fucking. Poor sap died in the city under strange circumstances, likely Daemon’s doings.

Criston met eyes with Harwin, vaguely disguising a sneer. He ignored the brute and turned his vision back to the crowds, the smallfolk staying relatively easy. Lucerra stood next to her elder sister, holding Lucerys, her namesake. Her smile was gorgeous, a couple of boys cheered for her, throwing a flower.

After the public spectacle, the princess gave a shy smile to Criston on his horse, cheeks rosy pink before the door was slammed shut by the cunt Daemon. He raised a brow and hopped onto the front of the wheelhouse, offhandedly commenting, “Cunt struck and you haven’t even defiled my niece, Ser Crispin.”

The Dornishman clenched his jaw so hard he feared it may crack a tooth. He rode ahead, staying silent, Daemon didn’t forget a slight and surely hadn’t forgot when Criston embarrassed the rogue prince in tournament. Pompous ass.

More annoying feast and merriment kept the knight from his pretty girl. Lords and ladies filled the grand dining hall, dancing to and fro. He stayed put against a column, watching her. Lucerra wasn’t much of a dancer, but she let the old Sea Snake guide her around some turns.

A body sidled next to him, a familiar face and scent. The Queen herself, Alicent smiled softly up at him. She stated, “You’re distracted Ser Criston.” He sighed in return, “I’m sure you’re quite aware of the rumors. Seven cursed my weak heart.”

“Lucerra’s harmless,” Alicent glared toward the non-green side of the table, “It’s her lying sister, you remained truthful. I’ve been trying to stifle the rumors. Have you stayed chaste? I hope you have on account of your neck, my dear Knight.”

Criston leaned down to murmur, “Agonizingly so. I fear I’ve been bewitched yet again. Harwin Strong was sniffing around the other night.”

Her lips turned to a foul grimace at the mention. Alicent hissed, “The realm’s delight is carting around her bastards like trueborns and she’s deadset on potentially ruining her sister’s reputation to get at you.”

“Always been selfish, hasn’t she,” Criston laughed.

Alicent smirked, placing both of her hands over the knight’s. The green queen spoke plainly, “Please be careful dear heart. You’re a valuable asset to our proud dynasty.” The long-suffering redhead disappeared into the throng of people, ever an ally for him.

Back to scanning the surroundings. Daemon was spinning with Rhaenyra, likely talking horseshit in High Valyrian. He scanned for Lucerra, finding her cornered by the tables with a noble clad in the colors of House Darklyn, known bootlickers.

His chest tightened with jealousy. Criston seethed to himself, chanting internally, ‘I will not make a scene, I will not make a scene.’ The Darklyn lad was too close for his liking. It suddenly felt too hot under his heavy armor. He was close to the brink, gripping the pommel of his sword until his knuckles whitened.

Lucerra seemed uncomfortable, face uneasy and body stiffening. The Darklyn fuck was leaning into her space, lips undoubtedly spewing disgusting things a lady shouldn’t hear. The princess gasped at something he said and turned away, getting yanked back towards the man.

That was enough.

Criston stormed forward, shoving through the nobility, snarling in anger. He yanked the uncouth prick by the collar and dragged him far away from his princess. Parts of the crowd stopped to stare, Rhaenyra perking up to look. The princess blushed and excused herself, quickly finding another dance partner in the more palatable form of Tyland Lannister.

“What are you doing? I have done nothing to the King!,” the black haired teen spat. Criston continued to haul the boy past the columns to a quieter place, anger clouding any sort of judgement. He shoved the noble bitch against an alcove, gauntlet pressed against twitching neck.

Darklyn gasped and writhed for air, eyes wide with fear. Criston hissed, “The Kingsguard protects the family and the king. You should know better than to touch the princess like that. I ought to gut you, throw you onto the spikes of Maegor’s Holdfast and watch you rot.”

The stinking reek of piss filled Criston’s nostrils. He looked down in disgust, muttering, “Weakling piss-ant. Don’t dare come near her-,” his threat was unfinished as he was whirled to face Lord Commander Westerling. His face was hard and eyes flinty— obviously disappointed.

“Come Cole, we need to have a word.”

The walk was quiet and unsettling, only the clank of their gear and footsteps sounding off as they reached the quieter area of Maegor’s Holdfast. Criston apologized immediately, “My temper Ser, I apologize, he was manhandling the Princess.”

Harrold Westerling shook his head with a resigned sigh. He rumbled, “You’ve already toed the line Ser Cole. I don’t want to have a capable fighter like you dismissed or facing the black, gelded at that.”

Criston’s roiling emotions died down into a despairing state— his chest fluttering with fear. He nodded and held his head down in obeisance. Westerling continued, “You must take a step back. You’re of the most elite of elite men, a big step from your beginnings. Princess Lucerra is an enchanting girl, I know this is hard, but as soon as you took the oath— this is your life. You must cease all feelings for the girl or request to be transferred to another.”

Criston fought back the warble in his voice. He wanted to rip his cloak off and shout his love, make someone understand. He swore, “I know Lord Commander, I know. I have never defiled the girl, I would never. This is my calling and I’m shirking it. I’ll think about requesting an exchange.”

Harrold clapped him on the shoulder and regarded him with kinder eyes, “Good. I was struck too once. I had many princesses to tend to with Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s litter of dragons. Just, please, pray on it and keep it in line Ser Cole.”

“Yes sir.”

He sulked about, Harrold ordering him to his chambers until the was called to his usual watch over his Lucerra. Criston hoped she was alright. He guiltily turned dark eyes onto his shrine of the seven. The small flail and beaded necklace awaited. He had been ignoring the faith, so entrenched in sin Criston could hardly bare to look at the Mother’s cold face.

He prayed and prayed to the mother for relief of his twisted desire, depraved lust, uncontrollable need to consume a sparkling untainted virgin. Then to the warrior to ease his temper, make Criston a calm knight, not blinded by rage so he may protect accordingly. Down the list he went until the dead skull relief of the Stranger awaited.

“If I fail, take me into your arms and punish me accordingly,” he whispered, a couple tears leaking onto his armor, shining by the candles. He would confess another time and receive his penance. Bloodletting seemed fit. Flagellation made him think clear, the pain taking away sickness in mind and body.

A sharp knocking snapped Criston out of his religious wallowing. He called out, “I’m coming.” The door opened to the queen and Ser Rickard Thorne. They both were cloaked and Alicent’s doe eyes looked worried. The younger knight questioned, “What? What is it?”

Alicent shushed him and murmured, “Our dear Lucerra and…the heir,” she spat the word like it was bile on her tongue, “Had some intense words after the feast. Ser Thorne escorted Cerra to her chambers.”

Thorne’s gravelly voice was low, “It was quiet and I checked in as she was in quite the state. She’s not in her chambers and the servant’s passage was left slightly ajar.”

Alicent frowned, “I know she’s upset and frightened. I would rather you find her. No one knows of this. I doubt she would leave the keep but gods forbid. We checked underneath the keep and Thorne most of the passageways. I will keep this at utmost secrecy, dear Criston.”

He nodded, quickly gathering his gear and a dark cloak to cover the white of his garb. While fastening his belt he quickly thanked the pair, “I will find her now. Thank you my queen, Ser Thorne. You may rest now. She will be returned.”

He chastely kissed the queens ring, patting his fellow knight on the shoulder and strode forward, urgency at his tail. Criston was fearful, dreadfully so. What did Rhaenyra do? He bit his lip, worked his jaw, making his rounds around the shadows of the outer courtyard. The goldcloaks were obviously not doing their job, playing cards up in a tower.

He worried she finally broke the princess, told Lucerra of the past. She would be heartbroken. He sped his pace, deciding to check the Godswood. Somewhere she would still feel safe. He knew Cerra wouldn’t run anywhere outside the walls, she’d have a fainting spell.

Speeding up he decided to take a turn and clamber up the wall into the Godswood. He must not be seen. Especially after tonight’s mishap. Swinging a leg over the thick red stone, Criston shimmied down and landed with a dull thud. The clouds covered the moon— making it dreadfully dark. Lucerra must truly be upset. He swallowed down a tightening throat. He needed to be the protector, not a weeping craven.

He scanned around the dark trees and arches to the left. It seemed empty. He moved forward, keeping to the brush, listening. Closer towards the heart tree he heard the familiar little hitching of breath. His Cerra. The fear of what came next shivered his spine.

Criston called gently, “Princess, Princess, is that you?”

He slowly approached, holding out a hand like he was soothing a skittish foal. He could barely see her, just the white of hair and a shadow of a figure. He took another step, stopping when she wept, “No Ser Cole, go away, I wish to be alone.”

All of his fears had come true. She’d turned against him. He shook his head. No. This wouldn’t do. The knight would change her mind. Lucerra Targaryen needed him, not Ser Cole, not the loyal dog, just Criston Cole of Blackhaven’s marches.

“Ser, please, I cannot bear this,” Cerra warbled.

He came to her side, kneeling, swallowing another agonized noise when she turned from him. Criston begged, “Sweetling, what’s the matter, why are you distraught? It pains me.” She sobbed, hands wrenching into a now-dirtied dress.

The brunette engulfed her tinier frame into a tight grip, her back plastered to his. Much like they slept many a night. She fought and tried to wrench free, crying, “No! Let go! I’m just a replacement for her! I always come second! Ser Cole!”

He held tighter, exploding, “I love you!”

Her writhing stopped, eyes turning to him, confusion on fine features. Criston swore, “Bythe Seven and my oath, I love you more than anything Lucerra.” She shook her head, confused, “No, no you don’t, Rhaenyra told me why y-you became my shield.”

He hissed, “No, she lied, she lied lied lied! I kissed her yes, but I ran, I knew it was bad. I was an idiot— she merely wanted a fill in for Daemon. I swear it to be true,” he continued in a softer voice, “I never thought I would love so strongly and deeply as I do with you, it’s more than lust. I would worship you until my last breath, chaste forever.”

Lucerra bawled again, curling into him, soft thighs straddling his own as she wept. He held her and shushed and coddled, praising the perfect maiden’s presence. He dumbly reiterated, “Never, never has anyone taken my heart like you have.” Her bejeweled hands gripped into his cloak.

Her face was dangerously close to his, sweet scent filling the knight’s nose. She whispered in a rasp, “Do you mean it? You love me? I love you, it nearly broke me to hear Rhaenyra tell me.” Criston frowned, pressing his forehead to her own. He murmured, “I was dumb, I bolted after it was initiated. I didn’t tell you, b-because, I didn’t want to lose you princess.”

She placed a hand over his rapidly beating heart and said, “I believe you. I forgive you.”

Criston was so relieved he didn’t realize the tear leaking down his cheek, kissed away by impossibly soft lips. She whispered fervently, “Kiss me Criston. Kiss me like you love me, like you said.” He carefully caressed her jaw, peering into those adoring orbs.

He closed the gap, lips finally meeting, the Princess sighing into him. She clung to his chest still, passively letting Criston take the reins. He chastely shared tender pecks, letting Cerra get into a rhythm.

Her lips opened as the kisses got more desperate, boiling tension rising. She whimpered when Criston lapped into her mouth, moaning himself. She tasted like sweet wine and cinnamon, opening for him beautifully. Cerra wrapped her arms around his neck, thin fingers gripping his long locks. He moaned again, lashes fluttering. All guilt was out the window when in the embrace of this goddess.

He tilted her head to intertwine their tongues, Lucerra shivering helplessly, whining his name. She was shy, better for Criston to take her warm mouth. The princess plastered herself tight to his body, breasts pushed up from the movement.

He’d be good. He will not stain her maidenhead, as much as the dark part of him sought to claim every inch of her. The brunette slid his hands down her waist, squeezing soft hips. She mewled again, feverishly smacking her lips against him. Criston felt her overwhelmed trembling, eyes teary just like he fantasized.

She pulled away with a string of drool, panting, “I- Criston- it aches.” His cock jumped at what the implication of that was. He pressed little kisses down her jaw and neck, basking in her cute noises. He purred, “What aches Princess? I shan’t dare to hurt your heart again.”

She blushed so heavily he could see it even in the pitch of the night. Criston smiled gently, breathing hotly against her ear, “You can tell me, sweet love.” The princess shivered again, hips bucking fruitlessly against his garb.

“Y-you know. M-my,” she looked away, “My flower.”

The dog in Criston grinned at that, the innocent little thing. He hummed, “Have you soaked your linens Lucerra? I don’t have to breach your maidenhead to pleasure my sweet girl. Would you like that?”

She practically sobbed, “Please, my knight, Criston. Our little secret.”

“Always,” he said, taking off his gloves and Cerra’s trembling hands undoing the heavy gauntlets. He slid warm palms up her plush thighs, so soft yet strong from dragon riding. She desperately sought his lips to cover an indecent sound.

One greedy hand spread open a thigh, the other swiping thick fingers through her slick cunt, dragging upward to graze her swollen bud. The princess shrieked into his swollen lips, Criston doing his best to cover the noise.

He offered his free hand up, half-groaning, “Suckle on my fingers sweet girl, can’t have you waking half the keep up.” Lucerra shyly opened her swollen lips to let Criston’s calloused fingers in. He pressed slightly on her tongue, earning a cute little garbled whine.

“Now be good my love, I’ll make you feel better, always will,” he promised. Gathering more wetness seeping from her cunt, Criston circled his fingers around that bud, teasingly thumbing too, dragging the roughened digit against her tender untouched flesh.

She seized and cried around his fingers, drooling and sniffling. Criston cooed, “Mm, feels good Cerra? Made for me, swear it, keep singing for me.” He picked up the speed of his fingers, circling and pinching to make her squeal and writhe on his lap.

Soon the princess was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, unable to stop crying and shaking, thighs trembling. Criston suddenly realized his cock was throbbing and twitching, ready to fill his garments like a green boy.

He desperately rambled, “C’mon my love, let it go, let the pleasure take you, I’m so close, together yes? Kiss me, yes, yes!” They gnashed teeth and noses against each other, no finesse in these last moments, the little death.

She gushed over his fingers first, Criston swallowing her suprisingly quiet keen. His belly tightened, balls drawing up, whining out of his nose at the ecstasy. Cumming absolutely untouched, so intense and powerful. They continued to sloppily kiss, stop to pant, kiss some more until the climax passed.

Criston withdrew his hands from her cunt, wiping them on his cloak. The princess was sapped of energy, head tucked under his scruffy jaw. She murmured, “I think I saw the stars.” He smiled, the giddiness of cumming warping his senses, “Mhm, me too sweetheart. But we need to get you back to your quarters.”

He carried her, sharing more intimate pecks and nuzzling in the darkness, all the way back to her quarters. Ser Thorne seemed to sigh in relief before taking in their debauched state and quickly leaving the scene. Criston placed her down and looked around once more before pressing her into the door, taking her bee-stung lips.

“I love you, I love you,” she sighed.

“I love you more, my princess,” Criston praised.

“Do you listen sister? What will they think when they find your maidenhead shredded?,” Rhaenyra stepped out of the gloom. The bitch took a servant’s route. Lucerra’s face reddened in anger, “Like yours was? Good thing Laenor prefers the company of his pretty squires.”

Criston balked at the brazen comment, lips curling up. The elder sister’s hands balled up, pale skin blotching up in anger. She hissed, “Enjoy your night Lucerra,” pointing at Criston she added, “I’ll see you gelded and sent to the wall.”

The future queen whipped around and left with a furious curse. Lucerra looked to Criston for comfort, getting picked up and led into her bedroom. He grumbled, “The Queen won’t allow for that. Rhaenyra has her own secrets to deal with. Relax, relax, let me get you ready for bed.” His lovely girl did so, quiet but still affectionate. Criston ignored the feeling that this would be the close to the last night.

His gut was right. Within a fortnight he stood next to the Queen, tears in his dark orbs. Rhaenyra was absconding to Dragonstone, as she was the heir. Viserys obliged her request to take her sister, indicating she would begin the processes to marry her off. Lucerra gave her goodbyes, hugging the queen, her father, and then him.

“My heart lies with you always, I love you my white knight,” she whispered gently before stepping away to climb upon her white dragon. He remained stony, utter hate in his heart for Rhaenyra Targaryen. He would make sure she never saw happiness, just as she took his.

Alicent grabbed his hand and promised, “Criston, you will have her again. I may not be her, but I will be good to you as my sworn shield.”

He would tear through bone and marrow to get that chance. For now, he would wait, wait as long as needed. Criston Cole always got what he wanted, just had to work for it. There was a war brewing and she would be on the right side. His side.

#hotd fanfic #ser criston cole x reader #criston x reader #criston cole x reader #hotd fic #hotd smut #my shnookums incel knight #incel knight

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stonedcoldfoxtarot · 2 years ago

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How you will step into your rich bitch era + advice

Pile 1 -> Pile 2 -> Pile 3

Pile 1:

3oS, 9oP, World, 5oW, Empress (AoW)

I see that some of you may have recently experienced a setback in your career or personal life that was mostly outside of your control. For many of you, this may have been in the form of an unexpected job loss or an expensive and contentious divorce or separation. However, I see this situation as a blessing in disguise because whatever you lost had already outgrown its usefulness in your life. For many of you, this misfortune has already led to an unexpected material gain and an increased feeling of self-confidence in your ability to stand on your own two feet. If not, I see this set back being short lived, as you are now well on your way to stepping into your winning season.

Deep down you know the world is yours, and from here on out I see you will be working to achieve a level of self-mastery that allows you to realize all of your goals. Some of you may decide to work in the field of Project Management or Marketing and PR, while others of you may be interested in careers that involve lots of international travel or relocating to a different country. I see that whatever path you choose Pile 1, you have the determination and fortitude to take on the competition and still come out on top.

For a few of you, I feel you could also be fighting with yourself or feeling divided about which direction to take next. You have a lot of different skills that could take you in completely opposite directions and you might be struggling to focus on or pick just one option. However, I see that once you figure out which path to choose you will move forward with determination until you reach a life that resembles the one you’ve always dreamed of. Whatever you decide to do, keep moving forward Pile 1 because it only gets better from here!

Advice: 9oP

Always remember that you have full control over your financial abundance and success. Start cultivating your dream life by building upon the work you have already done and you will be amazed at how quickly things begin to fall into place. If you’ve felt compelled to pursue a career that provides you with the freedom to set your own schedule, you are being advised to explore other options outside of a traditional 9 to 5.

Pile 2

AoW, Empress rev, Chariot, 10oP, Magician (9oP)

If you're not already self-employed, I see that many of you have a lot of creative ideas in your mind that are just waiting to be acted upon or brought to life. For some of you, I see that in the past you may have experienced periods of stagnation in your career which of course left you feeling frustrated and angry or even depressed. At some point, you may have felt rejected in your previous efforts or that others did not recognize all that you really have to offer. If that resonates, I see you are now focused on balancing your emotions surrounding past failures and regaining control over your circumstances as you dust yourself off and try your luck again. Pile 2, many of you are incredibly talented and hard working. I’m hearing that all that is needed to step into your rich bitch era is for you to confidently move forward towards the direction of your dreams, knowing that what is meant for you is already yours.

In fact, pile 2, once you find your niche or begin to put in work towards a new project or idea, I see you quickly becoming unstoppable! Many of you are visionaries and forward thinkers, possessing the strength and vitality necessary to bring your creative ideas or business ventures to fruition in a way that most others cannot. You have a natural talent for thinking outside the box, and this is what makes you so powerful. Regardless of any losses you may have faced in the past, you have all the resources and strength needed to pursue whatever you desire in this lifetime. For many of you, I see that success and abundance are right around the corner, if it’s not already here now. And if you are not self-employed or an independent contractor, I see that you will find success as an entrepreneur once you combine your creative ideas with your knack for selling, investing or bringing in money from multiple sources. I see that some of you may end up retiring early and living off of several streams of passive income or interest & residuals. Pile 2, your life has the potential to be the embodiment of the phrase “work smarter, not harder.”

Advice: Justice

Pile 2, if you have been feeling lost, confused or unbalanced in your career, you are being advised to seek out ways to bring fairness, clear-thinking and balance back into your life. Some of you may be a Libra sun, moon or rising, as represented by The Justice card, or you may feel naturally drawn towards a job or career in the legal field. Those of you who resonate with this card are powerful decision-makers who have reached perfect equilibrium between the intuitive and the intellectual mind. To step into your abundant era, focus on restoring balance in your life, especially emotional balance, so that you can allow the laws of karma to begin working in your favor once again.

Pile 3

10oP, 5oC, 9oC, 8oS, Magician (High Priestess)

Pile 3, I see that many of you have achieved financial abundance and prosperity in the past, but you may have also recently experienced financial losses or setbacks which have effected you quite deeply. Some of you may have been let go from a large company or corporation, or you feel stuck in a dead end job, trying to make ends meet as your costs rise and your savings continue to dwindle. Despite this, I see you haven’t lost hope for a new beginning, as you still really desire to live a life full of abundance and financial freedom like you did once before.

Pile 3, I see here that some of you are not recognizing your own power or that you give it away easily to those who may not have your best interest at heart. There could also be an issue with you simply wishing for things to get better instead of taking action to go after what it is you truly want. I feel this could be due to a fear of failure or of making a decision and being stuck with it. I also feel that some of you may feel stuck or trapped due to internal or external pressures, some of which might stem from your past, your childhood or the unealistic expectations set upon you by others.

However, I see that as you begin to harness the power of your mind to plan, direct and create your ideal life, things will slowly but surely begin to turn around for you. Many of you may be blessed with the ability to easily manifest your desires. Pile 3, your minds are incredibly powerful! In fact, you may be the type who has to stay mindful of your thoughts and words, as you have the power to easily speak things into existence. If you can see it in your mind’s eye, you can achieve it. (I’m hearing the lyrics to I Believe I Can Fly by R. K*lly, so maybe that song might resonate with some of you). The Magician is attributed to Mercury, and deals with communication, intellect and action, so some of you may find you are naturally drawn to careers that allow you to express your thoughts on paper or speak directly with others. You may be great at giving speeches or lectures, writing manuals and SOPs or anything that requires being good at both effective communication and teaching or motivating others. Many will see your success and look up to you in this lifetime, Pile 3. Just remember, what it meant for you will ever ever pass you by. You just have to be willing to go out there and get it.

Advice: High Priestess

Remember that all success and failure begins in the mind. You can manifest your conscious desires by harnessing the power of telepathy, clairvoyance, and intuitive communication to receive insight into your current situation. Here you are being advised to utilize your conscious mind to bring your creative ambitions to life and tap into your intuitive side to receive the answers you’re looking for, instead of manifesting from a place of fear or uncertainty.

Thanks for reading🔮✨

#pac reading #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #intuitive readings #tarot #tarot reading #pac #stonedcoldfoxtarot

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candycandy00 · 5 months ago

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So I thought I’d introduce the concepts for my JJK Fairytale AU. Some of you sent in some interesting suggestions, but in the end I decided to go with the most famous fairytales that would fit. I’m already writing the first one, Gojo x Cinderella. You’ll notice some of these ideas are more developed than others. Here are the others I plan to write.

Please vote for which one you’re most interested in! I’ll write them all but I’m curious about how much interest people have. It might affect the order I write them in.

Geto x Little Red Riding Hood

Reader is a young woman traveling through the dangerous woods to reach a safe house. This is a kingdom ravaged by war, and she’s a medic. She has medicine and supplies that she needs to bring to a military safe house to treat some injured soldiers there, but there’s a big bad wolf (Geto) stalking her. He was an enemy soldier she saved once, now turned into a werewolf, and hungry for her in more ways than one.

Toji x Snow White

Reader is a beautiful young woman living in a small rural village. There’s a huntsman who lives close by (Toji) who is a lot older than her, but she has a bit of a crush on him. For his part, he thinks she’s pretty but also thinks she’s too young for him (she’s like 20, he’s late 30’s). So he mostly ignores her. He’s known for being an excellent hunter and gets hired to go hunt dangerous animals in the woods. The evil queen hires him to take Snow White into the woods and kill her, but once he actually spends time with her, he might decide to just keep her.

Choso x Rapunzel

Reader is gathering herbs in the forest and stumbles upon an old watch tower inhabited by a cute but antisocial hermit (Choso) who seems sweet and keeps talking about his brothers who are “out” and will be back any minute. She starts visiting him regularly because she likes him, but she suspects his brothers might be dead and he just can’t face it. One day she gets attacked by a wild boar and injures her ankle. Choso finds her and takes her back to the tower. She faints and wakes up to find that he’s locked her in the top of the tower and won’t let her leave, because he’s afraid she’ll leave and never come back, just like his brothers. Choso as a classic Yandere. Reader’s only plan is to grow her hair out long enough to make a rope with it to escape.

Higuruma x Little Mermaid

Reader is a mermaid in love with a lawyer who lives in a coastal town and specializes in shipping contracts (Higuruma). She makes a deal with the sea witch and signs the contract to get human legs in exchange for her voice, but when she formally meets Higuruma, she ends up showing him the contract. He’s flattered that she did all this for him, but (like in the original story) the new legs cause her terrible pain, every step feeling like walking on glass (seriously the original story was fucked up). Will this genius lawyer be able to find a loophole in her contract and free her?

Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty

Reader is a princess who was cursed at birth. If she ever pricks her finger on a needle, she’ll fall into a deep sleep/coma. Her parents recently died, leaving her as the young ruler. Her first step is to hire a new captain of the guard, a mysterious and powerful man rumored to be a murderer (Sukuna). She’s instantly attracted to him, and despite her obvious flirting, he rejects her everytime, smugly saying a dainty princess like her couldn’t handle him. But when she ends up pricking her finger, Sukuna recognizes the curse, and knows that she’s still aware of everything, can still feel and hear everything. And the only way to break the curse is to fuck her.

Nanami x Beauty and the Beast

Since multiple people mentioned wanting Reader to be the Beast, I’m going for it! That’s right, Beast Tamer Nanami! Reader was cursed by a witch to be a beast (she’s still cute though, more like a lil bunny girl lol) and her royal parents are ashamed of her so they banish her to a secluded castle. Then they hire Nanami to take care of the place (and Reader).

#geto x reader #toji x reader #choso x reader #sukuna x reader #higuruma x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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kitashousewife · 2 years ago

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rooftops

an: i just got hit with this little idea idk what's going on lmao but i was inspired by rooftops by surfaces!

pairings: timeskip!tsukishima x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, childhood friends to lovers, food/drink and eating mentions, he is a mommas boy i decided

tsukishima huffs as soon as he hangs up the call, resisting the urge to throw his phone onto the breakroom chair. another apartment rejection, making that the fourth one this week. his fingers rub his eyes beneath his glasses as he accepts defeat once and for all.

after his shift today, he will be driving himself and his many boxes of belongings in his car back to his childhood home. for how long? he's not sure.

that's the worst part, in his opinion.

the lease was up for the apartment that he shared with yamaguchi. sure, he could've renewed and stayed for another year. but he just needed a change. for the last few weeks, the two boys had spent every evening researching different apartments closer to their jobs without any luck. any place that did have availability was conveniently snatched up before they could press send on the application.

kei drives home that afternoon with a weird feeling in his stomach. a mix between nostalgia and disappointment that only gets stronger as he drives into town. the late spring brought blooming trees and swaying flowers, welcoming him back home again. when he pulls into the driveway, though, he feels tired.

besides his housing search, he recently lost out on a great promotion at work. he wasn't too torn up about it until he learned that it was because he was too committed to volleyball. yet another time when his interests and reality butted heads. he's been having some tougher practices lately, exhausting his body as well as his mind.

"hi mom," he mumbles, ducking his head as he opens his car door. "i'm sorry about all of this. i'll be out as soon as i can."

his mom only smiles, reaching in to grab a couple of his boxes.

"you can stay as long as you would like. besides, how lucky am i to have my son home again?" she kisses his cheek while he bends down to grab a few things, and he shakes his head despite the smile tugging at his lips.

"what happened with this last place?" she asks, setting the boxes down in his childhood room, dusting her hands off.

"who knows. they called me during my break but they didn't give a reason," kei sighs. the weird feeling bubbles in his stomach once more as he takes in his old room. "at this point i think they have it out for tadashi and i."

"maybe it just isn't meant to be!" his mom says over her shoulder as they go downstairs for the last few things. kei rolls his eyes at that. ever the optimist, his mom.

"how is she?"

he shuts the door to his car and rolls his eyes once more, but this time his mom just laughs.

"she's fine. still working, i suppose."

as soon as the two of you started dating, kei tried his best to keep his mom in the dark in hopes of avoiding her teasing. it didn't work, of course, she found out the day of from your own mom.

the one downside of being childhood friends.

it had only been a few weeks, navigating the now romantic side of your relationship, but everything felt right. it felt safe.

"you should have her over tonight! i would love to see her."

"i'm sure you would," kei says from behind his water glass. "she's probably tired, though. maybe this weekend."

his mom blinks at him from across the kitchen counter.

"what."

"you haven't told her."

he throws his head back. "no, mom, i haven't. what am i supposed to say? oh by the way i moved back in with my mom?" when he sits upright, he's met with a bowl of pork and rice.

"kei, you're being ridiculous. for one, you guys have known each other for what, fifteen years?"

"seventeen."

"fine, seventeen years. she's probably been here more times than you could count. plus, you and i both know she wouldn't say anything. she loves you no matter what."

as he chews, he thinks that his mom is probably right. but what if she isn't? besides, what woman wants to be with someone that still lives with their mom?

"i think i'm going to unpack. thanks for the food mom."

he trudges up the stairs, looking at the photos that line the walls. framed school portraits, other small photos like the one of him and akiteru in the backyard with superhero capes, and of course the framed photo of you and kei at the school dance your third year. when he gets into his room, he flops onto his bed the same way he did a few years before. he lifts his head to look out the window and smiles.

are you off work? i'm at my moms if you want to stop by.

he stares at the ceiling for a few minutes, contemplating unpacking when you text back.

i would love to :)

you got off work around 5, stopping at your place to change when kei texted you. your apartment is only a short walk from your old neighborhood, so you decided to enjoy the nice weather and walk over.

while you walked, you thought about how far the two of you had come. growing up in the same neighborhood with moms who became best friends meant you spent a lot of time with kei and akiteru. running through the sprinkler while your moms gossiped over lemonade, trick or treating with tadashi, and of course birthday parties. your friendship continued through school and college, late nights sprawled out on the couch while tadashi and kei held smash tournaments, sunday afternoons studying at your kitchen tables, and of course volleyball games.

you laugh to yourself, thinking about how your teenage self would react to hearing that the two of you are now dating, not just friends but something much more. magical and comfortable all at the same time.

"hey."

you look around the front of the tsukishima home, but your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

"up here."

"kei? what the heck are you doing?"

sitting on the flat part of the roof beneath his bedroom window, your boyfriend leans back on his elbows. sitting in the same spot the two of you have sat hundreds of times before.

"what took you so long? that snail at the end of the driveway made it three laps around by the time you got here."

"i walked. what are you doing up there?"

he smirks. "come up and find out. mom knows you're coming."

you walk in through the front door, greeted by his mom before running up the stairs and to the right.

"what's the surprise?" you climb out of his window, grabbing his hand that he offers you before sitting down.

"nothing. just wanted to sit up here. the sun should be setting in a bit."

you hum. "what's brought you to your moms?"

kei doesn't say anything, but he grabs his hand in yours. his lack of response makes you raise an eyebrow.

"kei?"

he sighs. "i moved back in," his voice is quiet and mumbled, but he stares straight ahead. the sunset light making his freckles stand out on his cheeks. you're sure his eyes are bright and golden, but he wont look at you.

"well, you'll be closer to me," you nudge his side and he snorts, still looking forward. "but that's okay. wanna talk about it?"

"there's not much to say," he turns to you now. you can tell he's embarrassed. his cheeks are a little pink, matching the tips of his ears. he lets out a tired sigh. "our lease was up, but every single place we applied to has turned us down. we had to be out of there so i came home," like a child dies on his tongue. you're playing with his fingers in your lap.

"and tadashi?"

kei smiles. you can't help but wonder about your friend. you've always been this way, worrying about everyone else first.

"he's staying at his parents as well."

he feels extremely relaxed, every nervous feeling dissipating as the sun sets. his mom was right, but he'll never tell her that.

"how long are you staying?"

his fingers take his glasses in hand, twirling them for a second before turning to you. a sight you don't see as often as you'd like.

"until i find somewhere to stay is my guess. a week, maybe more. i just hate this," he covers his eyes, now laying back fully against the shingles of the roof. "seriously embarrassing."

"says who?"

he peeks at you through his fingers. "everyone."

you stare ahead towards the sunset again. your thoughts go back and forth for a minute or so, both of you sitting in silence. the scary thing about your relationship is the same as the best thing: your history. it's amazing because you know each other so well, you've been a part of each other's accomplishments and experiences. but at the same time, one wrong move and that could all go away, turning into only memories.

"i don't think it's embarrassing. you have a mother who loves you and welcomes you home. plus, at least your mom didn't turn your room into storage like mine," you deride, earning a smirk and a snort from your boyfriend. "but if it's that big of a deal to you, why don't you just move in with me?"

you stop, mouth shutting quickly to stop any other words from flying out. your face heats up and you stare ahead, refusing to see the reaction from the man laying beside you.

he's just as shocked as you. he looks up at the pink sky for a few seconds.

"o-okay."

"what?"

he sits up slowly, leaning back on his elbows once more, before slipping on his glasses. he turns to you with a small smile.

"i mean, why not. unless you didn't mean it,"

your eyes go wide. "no, i mean it! i mean, why not. i have the space, it's just me and i have an extra room you could use as an office. plus i already have a bed, and-"

"you're messy though."

you scoff. "i am not!"

he smirks, pulling you closer to lean into his chest. "i should move in so keep an eye on you. keep you from staying up too late. besides, i'm a great roommate. you would be lucky to have me."

you laugh. "i am lucky to have you, you're right."

kei stutters for a moment, before relaxing again. he's still not used to your compliments and flirting, but he can't get enough. he squeezes you a little tighter, kissing the top of your head.

"when can i move in?"

"monday? that way you can spend the weekend with your mom?"

he hums. "i like that plan."

the two of you sit on the roof for a while longer, watching the rest of the sunset in peace. kei feels happier, so excited to finally have somewhere to call home. he's actually thought about this for a while, coming home to you after a long day, going to bed with you and waking up to do it all again. being there for you when you’re sad, no longer relying on facetime or a quick call.

but for now he will enjoy the weekend, pretending to be young again.

he won’t admit it, but he’s also glad to live so close to home. but he can’t let his mom hear that.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukki fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

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jen-said-that- · 11 months ago

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'I Think Maybe You Thought It Was Something Else' - Goldfinch Analysis

I expend so much mental energy thinking about this conversation. Was Boris really being honest here? Did their encounters mean so little to him? Tartt implies it did occur at least once after he began dating Kotku, so I'm not sure his explanation about 'needing girls' holds up. How heartbreaking for Theo, who so plainly adores Boris and has had an ongoing sexuality crisis over his experiences with him for years.

I did read a good analysis about this recently, which highlighted that Boris is a person of action. He is regularly dishonest and hyperbolic in speech, but he acts authentically. Therefore, I think he shows his love for Theo in the way he outwardly behaves towards him, both in Vegas era and NYC/Amsterdam time – he kisses him goodbye, he's the one to initiate all of their physical affection in general, and let's not forget his life advice, 'stay away from the ones you love too much, those are the ones who will kill you,' right before he quite literally risks his life for Theo and was willing to die so he could escape in that parking garage.

Why the aloof attitude about their sexual history, then? What's his motivation for undermining it in this offhand, callous manner? I think there are a few possibilities. Boris is very observant, and sees Theo's discomfort with queerness plainly over the years he's know him. Think about how defensive Theo becomes even just a few minutes before this interaction when Boris asks if Hobie is is partner, much to Boris's annoyance. Or, when they were in Vegas, how put off Theo acts when Boris asked if Hobie was 'an old poofter?' (said light-heartedly by Boris, but taken rather seriously by Theo). I get the sense that Boris suspects Theo is queer and very uncomfortable with it, and so he doesn't want deal with Theo's reaction to addressing their past sincerely.

Another possibility is tied up in Theo as an unreliable narrator. We find out in this conversation that Theo said and did a whole lot that we never heard about from his perspective during the Vegas years, whether that be due to him blacking out or simply because the narrative is framed through his own internalised homophobia. Who knows what he said to Boris about their relationship at that time, blackout drunk, or how his shame and discomfort generally affected Boris? I've always thought the suddenness of Boris's attachment to Kotku strange. He seems perfectly content and fulfilled by his intimate relationship with Theo and then one day is wholly engrossed in this random girl? This could be reaching, but I've imagined that perhaps Theo's unchecked depression and shame about his sexuality became too much for Boris. Perhaps he had to disengage for his own good.

Which brings me to my final conclusion – Boris here is essentially rejecting Theo before he gets 'rejected' himself, because loving someone who is ashamed of their sexuality feels like a constant rejection. Boris has faced a lot of loss and abandonment in his own life. He clearly fears vulnerability and real, lasting intimacy (consider his inability to remain in one place very long, lack of faithfulness in his various relationships, mistrust for anything stable or safe, etc). While he may not have the internalised homophobia in the same way Theo does (he seems fairly easy going and accepting towards other queer characters), his major obstacle to being honest with Theo about how he feels is his fear of rejection and commitment which permeates his adult life. Otherwise, this conversation would just indicate that he does not feel very deeply for Theo at all, which we know is not true. The text supports requited feelings between them that never get properly addressed. One of the (many) great tragedies of this novel.

#the goldfinch #boreo #the goldfinch analysis #boris and theo #boris pavlikovsky #theodore decker #boris x theo #boreo analysis #donna tartt

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savi0rr · 7 months ago

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this is my first request EVER.

so I'm kinda nervous about it, but here I go!! (also, if I could be an anon, that would be amazing!!)🌺

anyway, request time!!

alr so ik the song sk8er boi by Avril Lavigne?? I've been listening 2 that a lot recently, and all I could think about was punk!stone × gf!reader where just like in the song, the person that he used to have a crush on (when he was a scrap) comes and tries to get with him because ik he's rich now. only 2 find out that he's with the reader now 🤭

PUNK AU STONE HAS MY HEART‼️‼️

(p.s. I loooove your fics, they bring joy to my whole day/s!!)

That’s Crazy!

Stone x Fem! Reader - Punk AU

a/n: I jumped in joy while reading this

≻───── ⋆🎸⋆ ─────≺

You stood in the back stage, nodding your head along with Stone as he sung and played the guitar. You smiled, titling your head to the side. You both ed the sweat dripped down his forehead, the way his fingers ran over the strings. Your cheeks flushed. You were so caught up looking at him, that you didn’t notice him coming up to you.

“Staring much?” He asked, panting softly. He took a sip of water. “You did amazing!” You smiled, taking a napkin and wiping his forehead. He smiled, titling his head to the side. “I was getting nervous because I felt your eyes on me:” Stone teased as he leaned against you, tired. “You should write song like that.” You giggled, kissing his cheek. “I’ll be right back. I’ll go get you some food.” You said, before running off.

Stone stood in the backstage, messing with his hair. “Damn it…” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Stone—?” A soft feminine voice called out from the side. Stone perked up, before he took in a deep breath. “Hey.” He said dryly, looking over to the voice. A girl around your age, the girl who rejected Stone many times when he was scrap. “You look good—I mean—! You did good at out there.” The girl smiled sheepishly, her cheeks flushed. “Thanks.” Stone said, his eyes looked away from her.

“So…how have you been?” The girl asked, her hands together as she stepped closer to him. She titled her head to the side. She remembered back when he was scrap that this move would drive him crazy. But now, it was just pure disappointment. He didn’t find it cute, he found it weird that she was still doing this after all these years.

“I’ve been fine.” Stone replied, his face showing no interest. He was uncomfortable, wanting to get out of this situation. The girl only giggled at his expression. “My friends never approved of you. No one did.” She said, glancing off to the side. Stone signed, rolling his eyes once again. He didn’t care, he couldn’t give two flying ducks. “Oh.” He muttered, trying to brush her off. “But—! I got some new friends…so maybe…” The girl began, walking closer to him. “We could—start over?”

By this time, you came back. “I couldn’t find any of the snacks.” You huffed, not noticing the girl who was standing off to the side. The girl raised an eyebrow, her eyes looked to where your hands went. Your hands rested on Stone’s shoulder. He looked at you, before his eyes looked back at the girl. Almost telling to you something. You raised an eyebrow before looking over.

“Oh—! I’m sorry I didn’t notice you!” You said apologetically, your eyes wide. You smiled, walking over to the girl. The girl was confused, stepping back a little. “Hey—? Sorry who are you?” The girl asked, her eyebrows twitching. You smiled, titling your head to the side. “Oh! I’m Y/N, Stone’s girlfriend.” You said, grabbing Stone’s hand and held it tenderly. That’s all the girl needed, her nice act dropped. She looked at Stone. “That’s all I needed.” The girl huffed, before she stomped away.

You blinked slowly, confused. “Why was she all moody?” You asked, reaching up and fixing up Stone’s hair. He shrugged. “Just some weird girl I had a crush on back when I was a scrap. She always told me no. I think she was only talking to me because I’m rich now.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“Her loss.”

#ramshackle x you #ramshackle x reader #oneshot #x reader #stone x reader ramshackle #stone x reader #silly #ramshackle stone #fluff

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cupids-chamber · 1 year ago

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2023/08/23

I'll be on my way now, I'm closing down all my other blogs and ask bin. I'd prefer if no one reached out to me during this time.

I'll be active on my Wattpad account if I feel like writing from time to time, (I'd also like to finish what I started) I've also made an AO3 account, in case I post anything. I plan on posting my Concubine series & Circus au works there as well.

(More info below the undercut)

Hi! This may come of as a shock, and I try not to get too open on this blog, but a month, or so ago. I posted about how I might have DID. (I did extensive research on DID, and reached out to my cousin who had DID for help, and though I will not self diagnose, I match almost all if not all the symptoms for it.)

This Cupid persona has developed into someone of it's own, and I don't feel like I'm the same person as before, and in all honesty I genuinely don't even know who I'm anymore. It's hard for me to focus on my health and mental health, along side simple tasks and even hobbies like writing which I love.

I will say coming into tumblr, the past two years caused me more harm then good. I've realized that though I came into this app being extremely s*icidal and interacting with the users here have made me feel better about myself. It has caused many negative impacts, and I can confidently say that due to me obsessing over writing on time or everyday for tumblr, I've developed an eating disorder of sorts, and recently it seems my body is rejecting food as a whole.

I love writing, and I love that people enjoy my writing, sadly it's the cause of a lot of health issues, mentally and physically. And though I still write from time to time, recently typing or writing by hand makes me feel awful and it's not like those usual burn outs.

I feel like crying as I'm typing this up, and a lot of people may call me dramatic for this but I genuinely feel a pit in my stomach when I go on this app it's not even funny anymore. This blog itself has caused me so much trouble behind the scenes, and though I'm not quitting. I most certainly can't leave something I've worked so hard on, (and this is the place where I met the few people that honestly may not know it, but probably helped stop me from offing myself.)

Like I said, I'll be on different apps, maybe once every 2 weeks or a month, but I'm trying to avoid social media, trying to pick up new hobbies, trying to gain some sort of stability in my life because I'm not stable enough to handle anything right now but like I said, I love writing and I think you guys should at least see it through on the series and tasks I've started.

I'm crying now, and I'm very grateful that you've all supported my work, and allowed me to explore my writing on this platform, I've learned a lot about this fandom. I still find it ironic that people call me a workaholic, I'm genuinely the biggest procrastinator you'll ever meet.

Thank you for supporting me, because without your support and reassurance, I might not have been here until now. Especially to some of my moots, who took the time to chat with me.

So, this is goodbye I suppose. At least on this platform, maybe not forever, but it is goodbye for the next good while.

— Signing off, cupids-chamber

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spiderplanter · 4 months ago

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Hi! This is my very first tickle fic, hope it’s not too bad! This is a play off of a dream I had a few nights ago and figured I’d post it here because there’s like 0 Sturniolo tickle fics..

ENJOY :)

Summary: Matt finally builds up the courage to tell his partner that he likes tickling.

It’s been a year since Matt and I started dating. I recently noticed that when we were at either of our houses hanging out, a lot of the time when he wanted to be close to me, he’d sprawl out on my lap. It may sound perfectly normal but the way he did it was different.

His head would sit in my lap and he’d have his arms above his head as if he were stretching and he’d blankly stare at me and make goofy little remarks to get me fired up but I never fed into the fire. One day, after a few rounds of this, Matt’s mood started to change.

“Hey my love, did I do something to upset you”? “No hun, it’s nothing I’m fine”. He replied, with a half smirk and walking off to the bathroom. Concerned, I went to ask his brothers if they’d noticed anything going on with Matt. Nick said he hadn’t noticed anything, and Chris just shrugged his shoulders and said “Gotta love the Mattitude”.

I go to the living room to think about ways I could cheer Matt up but my thoughts are interrupted by him plopping down on the couch right next to me. He starts begging me to scratch his back and after a few seconds I give in because who could say no to his cute little face.

He jumps up all excited assuming I’d say no and then he grabs the TV remote to put on The 100. He then lays across my lap, stomach side down with his head on his arms and gets comfortable. I’m relieved that I decided to get my nails done with my best friend earlier today.

He let out a sigh of relief when I started spidering my fingers at the top of his shoulders and made my way down. A couple minutes go by and Matt starts getting fidgety.

I thought maybe I was scratching too hard and he was uncomfortable so I made my touch as light as a feather. I drag all five of my nails in the shape of an infinity sign and Matt seems to be even more wiggly than before.

As soon as the realization hit me that I was tickling him, he let out a few small giggles but I continued as if I didn’t hear it, curious to see if he’d break.

I started to blush at how cute he was in this moment and was so grateful to be here with the guy that makes me feel so happy and loved. I kept getting closer and closer to his sides until I locked in and lightly clawed at them.

“Bahahabe, stohop”! He pleaded. I paused immediately, leaving my hands at his sides. I leaned down to his ear and whispered, “Do you really want me to stop? Because you didn’t try once to get away from me, you just laid there and took it.”

His face was now tinted dark red and he sat up, looking like he was about to cry. I brought him into a hug and asked what was wrong and praying that I didn’t cross the line. “I have a confession and I know I can trust you but I’m still scared to tell you in fear of judgment and rejection”. He said, pulling out of the hug with tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. “My love, you know you can trust me with anything, I care so deeply for you and could never even begin to think about hurting you in any kind of way. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together”. I said wiping his tears away.

“So this is kind of stupid but here goes nothing. You know how one of my forms of affection is physical touch? W-well it is but it’s also not the normal kind physical touch”. He said shakily. I respond, “Okay love,could you elaborate for me”?

After about a minute of hesitation he blurts out, “I like being tickled”. As I look at him, pondering how he could get any cuter, his eyes shoot open and hides his face in fear of my reaction. I reach over to pull his hands from in front of his eyes and whisper, “Love bug, I think that’s a very normal and okay thing to like, it’s far from stupid. I would be honored to tickle you whenever you want, all you have to do is ask. I’m sorry you felt scared and uncertain about letting me know”. I say as I give him a quick little taser, earning the cutest little jump and squeal from him.

More tears stream down his face as he opens up to me about how insecure and outcasted he felt for liking being tickled. “Thank you for supporting me hun, I haven’t had the best experience sharing this with anyone else. It means a lot to me that you’re so open about it”.

“It’ll take a whole lot more than a little tickling to scare me off Matthew, and even then I don’t think there’s much that will get me to leave, I’m in this for the long run. I’ll take any chance I can get to have you show that stunning smile and the cutest bubbly little laugh of yours that I adore so much.” I replied, speaking straight from the heart and soaking up this oh so beautiful moment.

He jumped into my arms, filled with joy and a big sigh as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. A few minutes of silence goes by and I take my opportunity to start scribbling his sides. Trapped in the hug, all he could do was squirm and giggle quietly to try and not alarm his brothers, but I admire how he doesn’t fight back.

“We need to talk about boundaries and a safe word because I love you too much to cross them”. I said. We let go of our hug and I could tell he was getting flustered again so I had him to take deep breaths.

“Sorry hun, I just didn’t think we’d get this far, I was kind of unprepared to start talking about all of this so soon.” He said, laughing nervously. “We don’t have to right this second, we can wait till you’re ready”. I assured him.

“I’d rather get it over with so we can both be on the same page. I guess I just like the light scratches. The only thing off limits is my lower body but I’m good with anything above the hips. If you don’t mind, like I-I don’t know, doing it frequently. I would like it if you surprise me with it too, whenever and wherever. I don’t like harsh t-ti-tickles”. He said shyly, rubbing the back of his head.

“Say no more my love, how about a safe word, what sounds good”? I ask, trying not to sound too excited. “I think it has to be Pikachu”. He said trying desperately to keep a straight face.

“Pikachu it is, now lay down with me so we can binge this show as if we haven’t seen it a million times already”! I say with a big stupid grin on my face. I back up into the corner of the couch and Matt lays his head in between my legs and we start back The 100.

About halfway through the episode is when I start messing with Matt again. I grabbed his hand as if I just wanted to hold it but I pulled his arm above his head and wrapped my legs around his waist so he couldn’t escape.

With my free hand I started tickling all over his upper body. Starting at his waist line, spidering up to his stomach and poking at his ribs, which seemed to be a sweet spot but it didn’t compare to when I made it up to his underarm.

“WHOHOHOA MY GAHAHAHAD, BAHAHABAHABE”! He screeched.

Nick and Chris came running in “Yo, what’s happening in here guys”? Chris asked very concerned. “It sounds like you’re brutally murdering a pack of hyenas in here”. Nick scoffed.

“I was just laughing at a really funny TikTok, nothing to worry about, let’s go to bed”. Matt says turning to me in a slight panic. We simultaneously get up and run back to his room. We jump on the bed and start laughing about how we almost got caught.

As we finally catch our breath, he strokes my hair and says “I love you so much, you know that right?” “Well duh, I hope you know the same goes for you Matthew because I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with you, speaking of… I’d love to explore your most sensitive spots and figure out your favorite places if you’re down”. He gave me a nod of approval as his smile grew bigger and bigger until he couldn’t hide it anymore.

I pinned his arms over his head with one hand and asked where he’d like me to start. “Surprise me”. He said confidently but before I even started lowering my hand, he was a hot mess. Before Matt’s thoughts drained out from the tickling sensation, he couldn’t help but stare at me with his heart bursting out of his chest, wondering how in the world he got so lucky to have me by his side.

An hour or so passed by and we decided to stop for the night and go to sleep. Lying in each other’s arms, fully content with the events of that day, I started to hum a soft melody until Matt peacefully drifted off to sleep. I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed him on his forehead before readjusting to go to sleep myself.

#matthew sturniolo #tickle fic #fluff #tickle scenarios #tickle content #blazes tk prompts

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mangora · 8 months ago

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So I haven’t been fulfilling my obligations as resident Scike enjoyer recently and I finally have a night with no coursework due, so here’s a meta analysis post about my interpretations of Scott and Mike’s characters, primarily as told through their relationship with one another. This isn’t necessarily accurate, some of these are definitely reaches or headcanons with little basis in reality, it’s not like a serious essay; this is just for fun since I find their relationship (or I guess, my idea of their relationship) fascinating 👍

So, naturally we start with episode one, where we’re introduced to Scott and Mike as well as the other generation two characters. Scott, off the bat, is unfriendly and untrusting; even before Jo says anything, he eyes her with malcontent. Scott looks at Mike with a seemingly annoyed expression when he’s introduced next. Mike, in contrast to Scott, is smiling and taking in the view. Scott notices immediately when Zoey nudges him and stares at her arm; I don’t think this demonstrates any sort of feelings for Mike on Scott’s part, yet at least, but rather it seems to display his social awareness. He’s already trying to gauge both Mike and Zoey’s personalities and dynamic— he could also be judging them, or a mix of that and the aforementioned gauging. Regardless, Scott’s already shown to be suspicious of others.

Meanwhile, Mike’s shown to form an attachment right away, specifically to Zoey. Their very minor interaction causes him to smile and espouse that the view is beautiful, though he’s obviously regarding her. This causes him to let his guard down, along with Zoey, which leaves both susceptible to being shoved out of the way by Lightning. Take note of this, as Mike’s desire to form stable relationships becomes a hallmark of his character. The dichotomy between Scott being untrusting when he should be and Mike being trusting when he shouldn’t be will become a running theme as well.

The next time we see them both is after the intro, when Scott refuses to help Cameron and calls him a “spaz”. This is contrasted with Mike being too kind with Zoey when they should be helping Staci out of the water, which causes him to be pulled underwater by her and could have led to them both drowning. This not only aligns with our theme of trust vs lack thereof, but also Mike’s goodwill vs Scott’s lack thereof again. It seems that what Scott needs, Mike supplies to a harmful excess; however, as we will touch on later, both of these incidents with Mike only occurred when there was another person there (Zoey) who he sought to impress or bond with. Right now all of these exist in an unjoined microcosm, but once again, scenes like this repeat throughout the season.

Another scene worth noting is Mike’s confessional directly after. Mike’s already attached himself to Zoey, admiring her kindness and immediately jumping to the idea of a relationship with her. We’ve already established that Mike wants human connection, but here we also see the added element of insecurity; he already fears rejection for his “quirk”, which we will later discover is his DID (called “Multiple Personality Disorder” in the show; I am not fucking calling it that). He doesn’t state it to the audience yet, showing that maybe he’s not as trusting with people who he can’t directly connect with; even though he probably knows that he will inevitably be outed to them, for lack of a better term. Since he’s insecure about this, and because he says he hopes his “condition doesn’t ruin anything for [him] again”, we can draw the reasonable conclusion that Mike’s probably been rejected for his DID before, whether by potential romantic interests or by his peers more generally (with the added context of season five this could also be referring to how Mal got the system sent to jail, but honestly I’m not sure if the writers planned that far in advance so we’re not really gonna talk about it). It could also be possible that one of Mike’s motives for joining the show, besides the money, was to make friends or find a partner in a new group of people who didn’t know this detail of his life, and to do that by hiding his DID. Once again, this will seem like less of a reach as we continue to see this pattern unfold; it’s good to establish now the idea that Mike is heavily concerned with interpersonal relationships and self-image so we can continue compounding on that thesis as we go on.

Next time we see either Mike or Scott is on the beach. Staci is talking about her family and Mike is obviously ignoring her in favor of looking at Zoey. This shows that while Mike is nice, he might not view everyone as an equal opportunity for human connection; he gets attached to Zoey instantly and regards her above everyone else, quick to establish a clear-cut and intense relationship in his mind with someone he barely knows. When Zoey even implies that they could become friends, he appears overjoyed. He’s so excited, and for what? Put a pin in this.

Our focus shifts back to Scott briefly in the team formation scene before the first challenge. Scott and Lightning smile at each other (or maybe generally? It’s unclear if Scott’s looking at him) as they’re put on the same team. His smile fades when Brick shouts “Sir, yes sir!”, but rather than looking maybe annoyed or angry, he looks uncharacteristically concerned. His smile returns when B shoves Brick, then changes to annoyance when B’s put on his team. There are two major explanations for this. The first and most likely is that Scott’s scoping out his teammates and competition; he’s happy that Lightning’s on his team because he’s not very smart, then concerned and happy again when Brick’s put on the other team because he’s loyal and physically capable, and then he’s upset that B’s on his team because B’s intelligent and looks (is?) strong/fast. However, on the other hand, Scott’s expressions seem oddly earnest, especially considering how he behaves throughout the rest of the series. Maybe he’s secretly glad that Lightning’s here because he enjoys his company. Something that really caught my eye was Scott’s concern for Brick. Brick’s obviously military (likely due to family circumstances), and in season five, we learn that Scott’s dad is ex-military. Scott might be slightly worried because he knows what the military is like, or what military parents are like. We’ll talk more about Scott’s potential home situation later, but I dunno, something about him in this scene seems weirdly tame considering how he is normally; he seems oddly worried and not about the right people, like all things considered it would be best for his plan if his team was weak but he seems constantly annoyed by the additions of people like Dakota and Sam.

Skipping over more of Scott being annoyed at people and Mike being anxious, when the teams get their names, Mike is the first to ask about the references to chemical waste. Though he’s very likely one of many to notice this, the fact he asked first and without hesitation shows that he’s both worried and quick to observe things. He continues to appear concerned by the growling of the “monster”, but seems to hold back from showing this, staying still with a worried expression. He might be trying to keep it cool to protect his image; or, maybe he’s trying to keep others from worrying as well, considering that Cameron’s already freaking out. When it gets closer, he holds Zoey in his arms. He has an urge to protect those he cares about, even if he has little reason to care about them yet.

Later, during the actual challenge, while Jo and Anne Maria are outwardly annoyed by Brick, Mike tries to politely state that this isn’t working. This is the point at which Chester fronts; we learn later that Chester most commonly fronts to deal with frustrating situations. Mike himself cannot express frustration for whatever reason, likely because he’s afraid to. Meanwhile, Scott does his first confessional, where he states that he has a plan that’s sure to take down B (and implied to take down everyone else as well). Scott’s overly confident and expresses frustration with the gleeful notion that all will be handled eventually. Shortly after, Scott smiles as he and the other Toxic Rats overtake the Mutant Maggots; this is odd, as we will later find out that Scott wants his team to lose. This could be an example of him trying not to play his cards too early, but later it becomes apparent that Scott’s quick to snap when he’s upset. Was he perhaps earnestly excited to win as a team and had trouble masking that as well? Perchance (I can just say perchance, because it’s my meta post, and I do what I want).

It’s worth mentioning now that we’ve covered episode one that Mike and Scott have somewhat inconsistent characterizations; as the series goes on, Mike is more prone to show annoyance or outbursts of fear, while Scott rarely shows genuine happiness when his plans aren’t working out. This could be a result of changing writers, a lack of ideas for one or both of them, or simply them changing and adapting to the game. Make of that what you will; I’ll try to explain things to the best of my ability and puzzle them together in a cohesive analysis, but shit’s a bit wonky.

In episode two, we finally hear Scott’s plan: he’s intent on making his team lose the challenges to “lull the other team into a false sense of security, then pick them off one by one”. This is an interesting concept, considering how fucking stupid it is: if Scott loses most or all of his team and the Maggots continue working together, that security will become real, they will dominate him and any allies he might form (which he does not seem intent to do), and he will lose near immediately unless he’s already planning on how to split them up, assuming any of them would fall for his tricks. However, Scott himself is a little dumb, so this is fitting. He’s so unwilling to work with other people that he seems to have tricked himself into thinking that he can do anything by himself and manipulate people with no outside help. This is unrealistic, and gives the viewer a perfect insight into Scott’s antisocial and bleak worldview. He’s so unwilling to trust people that he hasn’t even figured out how to fake a relationship with any of them for his own benefit.

In the scene where the teams are walking to the Bay of Dismay, Zoey and Mike have their first proper conversation, and it is approximately thirteen seconds long. Zoey brings up Total Warriors Two, and Mike is pleased that she knows about it. He states that if she likes kickboxing as well, he might have to marry her. First of all, film-enjoyer and kickboxer Mike real as fuck; but more importantly, this is another example of Mike attaching himself to Zoey incredibly quickly and incredibly closely. He’s desperate to be liked by her, desperate to be inseparable from her even. Unlike Scott who’s pushing everyone away without a plan, he’s seemingly nudging closer to someone without a plan or a concern for her actual, well, personality. I don’t think this is manipulative or weird at all, to be clear; and Zoey was likely trying to relate to him because he also clearly enjoys his company. It’s just endlessly intriguing how he’s already endeared herself to her.

Once the game actually begins and the Maggots are asked which one of them wet their pants, Mike’s the one to pipe up with surprise, almost making fun of the person in question. Knowing that Mike’s afraid of his own secrets being revealed in this challenge, this clues us in that, while Mike might not have bad intentions, he does partake in judging (and depending on how you interpret his words, shaming) people for their own secrets. He might, to a degree, lack social knowledge (“this might make the person uncomfortable” etc.), empathy, or both. In this right, he’s somewhat selfish. Throughout the season, actually, he continues to show inklings of selfishness, even if they aren’t born out of malice.

After this, the Rats are dunked into the water. Scott’s bitten and dragged out of the stands by Fang, and his team does nothing to rescue him. This upsets Scott, who then refuses to do the rest of the challenge. While this might be part of his plan to lose, it seems that Scott was genuinely upset and offended; he expected his team to help him when he would never do the same for them. More selfishness. Anne Maria seconds Scott, and Mike’s quick to join her since he’s worried about his own secrets being discovered— something that he insists to them isn’t true. I don’t have to explain this, I don’t think; Mike and Scott are alike in their selfish desires for preservation. The thing is that Mike backs down after Jo becomes upset with him, while Scott carries on. So Mike does care about avoiding conflict and being invulnerable to his whole team, but with Zoey specifically, he needs to be liked; not just regarded with neutrality, which appears to be his goal with other people; and he is afraid of being judged, or seen in a negative light.

During the challenge, Scott attempts sabotage for the first time, which fails. He tries to keep the rat from B, and is outwardly antagonistic towards him, which could have easily been used against him. This is another action that Scott seems to take strategically, but barely considers the consequences of. He just needs to be mean, apparently; he can’t control the urge to sabotage or insult, even when it would hurt him.

In the same challenge, Cameron catches Svetlana fronting, and asks Mike about it, which he denies entirely. The Maggots win, which Scott, again, seems genuinely upset about. This is where I’m laying out my theory officially that Scott takes these losses personally but is convincing himself that they’re sacrifices, rather than him genuinely not caring because it’s part of his plan. Maybe he knows that he could be on the chopping block every time and is bracing himself; maybe he enjoys winning each individual challenge for a sense of glory but won’t admit it to himself because it doesn’t work with this bullshit Lone Wolf plan he has. Either way, this brings us to episode three.

In episode three, Sam flings his breakfast into Scott’s face. Instead of pretending it’s okay, Scott throws a spoon at Sam. He then calls him a wimp for complaining about his food. Aside from this being another example of Scott being unable to mask his feelings for the greater good, this leads into the point of Scott’s home life. Total Drama as a series is full of bits that are normal in its cartoon universe, but are disturbing or terrifying taken in a real-world context; look no further than the season’s baseline concept of “we put teenagers on a nuclear island”. Scott living on a dirt farm is one of these things; having to eat dirt is bad in a literal context, and worse when adding the idea of it being a metaphor for not having food to eat. Scott is, quite literally, dirt poor; we’ll talk more about his audition tape later, but in it, we also see that Scott’s house is infested with rats and in a state of complete disarray. In season five, we learn that his father is ex-military and his mother’s a waitress; and since they own a farm, they did or do have two jobs. Scott’s also generally a country boy stereotype, and country folk aren’t exactly known for being well-off. We can almost guarantee that he grew up in a rough economic situation, and has ways of coping with or appreciating it while still working fervently to escape it. Take that for what you will.

Following this scene, Mike admits to the audience that he has DID with a shameful tone. He rushes to explain that he tries to control his alters, as if he needs to or should, but that they don’t listen to him. Mike not only lacks control, but is also attempting to control genuine other people, all for them inconveniencing him and making him worry about being judged. This is another point at which we must acknowledge that Mike is selfish, but also selfish with a sympathetic purpose; he doesn’t want to be judged, and doesn’t want to be alone. When confronted by Jo about Svetlana, he lies and says she’s a character, but fails to actually mimic Svetlana. He’s either a bad actor, doesn’t know Svetlana that well, or both.

During the first half of the challenge, Scott shouts at Lightning to shut his mouth, once again showing how hard it is for him to hide his true feelings. Meanwhile, Mike helps Zoey up a ledge instead of helping himself, showing that he knows when to actually be selfless as long as it benefits someone he cares about. Once again, we go back to Scott as the Rats win the challenge; and Scott is visibly and audibly upset. He doesn’t bother hiding it now, so why would he before? Another point for the “Scott is genuinely excited to win/mad about losing” theory. When his team is mad at him for picking the bad snow fort, Scott acknowledges that this is bad, but rationalizes that it’s part of the plan. Dude, he has no fucking idea how this plan is going to work, does he?

Now we get to the point where Mike finally acknowledges Scott, and tells Zoey to watch out because Mike thinks he’s “psycho”. Mike is the first person to bring up how Scott’s acting irrationally or untrustworthy verbally; and considering they aren’t on the same team, that means Mike must have been, at some point, watching him. As we mentioned earlier, he’s observant, and will bring something up either if he feels it’ll be uncontroversial or if he’s very concerned. Before Scott’s other team caught onto him, Mike did, and before they became cautious or seriously concerned, Mike did. Why? Does Mike have experience picking out these types of people? Was Mike, for some reason, interested in Scott either out of fear or admiration, and therefore paid closer attention to him than anybody else? Mike’s not a very strategic person in the game, but he is a bit strategic and wary socially, especially if he’s afraid of the other person not liking him. Did Mike view Scott as a threat? Maybe something more? Why? Did he recognize Scott’s selfish or secretive behaviors, maybe in himself? These are all, certainly, questions. Perchance.

In his scene with Dawn in the snow fort, Scott argues with her about how he’s not going to listen to the snowball, and says he’s full of negative energy; this causes a snowball to explode in his face. Scott’s unwilling to listen to others, even if it spells his own downfall. After this, Dawn claims that Scott wasn’t held enough as a child, which he stops to think about and is shown to be greatly uncomfortable with in the confessional. Dawn has previously been accurate about the home lives of other players (Zoey and Dakota), so we can assume she’s right. In which case, this is “Scott has a bad home life: part two”. Scott’s parents, at some point, did not meet his emotional needs; whether this was just in early childhood or whether it stayed consistent is unclear, but it’s likely that some of his behavioral issues would have been addressed earlier if his parents were attentive following his most formative years. Because his parents didn’t show him enough affection, he likely turned to either methods of garnering attention elsewhere or through other means, diverted that attention towards desiring victory and/or control for his own self satisfaction divorced from the opinions of other people, and/or a mix of both. We can also reasonably assume that Scott’s poor home life could go beyond simply emotional unfulfillment, since Scott seems worried at the notion of her knowing that, and likely wouldn’t be as concerned if he had nothing else to hide.

Dawn later seems to compliment Scott, calling him a “beetle whisperer”. He turns up his nose and leaves. This could be because he finds the notion of beetle whispering ridiculous, but I just like to think that Scott’s not used to getting compliments and doesn’t know how to react. Just because that’s kinda more wholesome and Dott’s kinda baller.

At this point, B melts the Maggots’ fort, and Jo asks Mike to do the “Svetlana thing”. Under pressure, Mike begins to panic a bit, unsure of how to escape the lie he’s found himself in, almost confessing; Cameron helps Svetlana front, saving him from this situation, and Jo regards Svetlana positively. This is just important to me divorced from Scike because not enough of you talk about Jolana. Moving on, Scott notices B melting the Maggots’ fort and momentarily panics, before melting the Rats’ fort instead and blaming B; while Scott has committed sabotage and swayed the team vote before, this is the first time his sabotage has actively caused the team to lose. You’d figure he’d be celebrating, but we don’t see that. After the loss, Mike goes to the confessional and worries about Vito showing up; we can assume that Vito is the hardest to control and/or would lend the most to affecting Mike’s social life, hence why he states that the situation has gotten worse and seems so on-edge. Scott’s finally gaining control in the game, while Mike appears to be losing it. Scott convinces his team to vote for B, and lies without a problem; Scott, it seems, is good at lying through his words, but has a hard time controlling how he emotes physically. Mike is the same; when he lies or hides information, his voice and face/actions don’t seem to mirror the stories he puts together on the fly. Mike’s not a malicious liar, he in fact has every reason to lie about his condition, if you consider lies of omission to be lies at all; but if you do, he is, in fact, a liar, and it takes one to know one. My Mutual Understanding clownery is all coming together.

In episode four, we mostly see extra examples of previous behavior from Scott: annoyance at his teammates (mainly Sam), selfishness and a lack of consideration for others (not helping Sam up and not caring when his teammates go missing), and being oddly happy over success when he shouldn’t be (excited to find the key). At this point, I began considering the possibility that Scott only likes losing when he’s in control of the loss. To fail when he’s trying to succeed obviously frustrates him, but to fail when he’s trying to fail is a success at failing. In less words, it's the need for power and control, again. Maybe he likes to win sometimes for entertainment, or a sense of accomplishment; he might just do it because he can sometimes. In which case, Scott’s a bit more unpredictable than first thought; he does things largely with one goal in mind, but can push that goal off or come up with other shorter term objectives whenever he feels like it. He’s consistently driven, but the thing he’s driving towards is subject to fluctuate when he gets bored or competitive or wants to feel in control.

On the Maggot side, Mike and company are obviously unhappy with and wary of Jo, but none of them say anything. Mike does, however, tell Cameron that he did a good job. It’s possible that after the last episode, when the two worked together along with Zoey to get up the hill, Mike has started seeing Cameron as another potential friend, as he rarely interacted with Cameron before, and we know they will continue to interact more in future episodes. Zoey says he’s “always encouraging Cameron”, implying that he does this off-screen as well, since (correct me if I’m wrong) this is the first time Mike has directly encouraged Cameron specifically. Mike says that Zoey’s all he thinks about when he’s in control, then laughs nervously, as if he’s afraid this joke is too personal or unrelatable or odd. When Zoey goes missing, Mike notices immediately, and begins to panic; the person he’s most attached to here, his only real friend right now, has just left him alone, and the anxiety is all-consuming. He’s worried about her, and probably also scared of being left alone with the rest of the team, who he’s not as close to. I’m going to draw the line here and say that I think Mike might have social anxiety, just in my personal opinion as someone who also has social anxiety. He’s hyper-aware, afraid of what others think of him, and heavily attached with one or two people. He’s also, apparently, very loyal and protective. He abandons the rest of the group to find Zoey despite the challenge, and is relentless when looking for her in a way that no one else in the challenge has been or will be later.

When Brick goes missing, Mike is concerned for him, as are Cameron and Anne Maria; it’s unclear whether this is because they care for him, they’re scared of missing as well, or a mixture of the two. When Anne Maria stands up to Jo for having a bad attitude, Mike also finds the courage to join her. Having someone who’ll agree with him or make the first move once again gives him a sense of confidence to voice his opinion and, assuming he had Brick in mind like Anne Maria, defend the people he (possibly) cares about without as much fear. Shortly after, he injures himself looking for Zoey; once again, he puts those he cares about above himself, but himself over the layman.

After Vito fronts for a while, Mike suddenly takes over when he hears Zoey cry out for help and attempts to save her instead of winning. His care for others (Zoey specifically but he could generally be concerned for everyone considering the state of affairs [big spider]) triumphs his need for victory, which again lends credence to the theory that he’s on Total Drama for social reasons more so than monetary ones. In the meantime, Scott’s unabashedly upset about winning the challenge, but again, appears concerned for Brick when he begins crying. When Brick’s switched to the Toxic Rats, Mike, Cameron, and Anne Maria are visibly shocked and upset, showing that they probably did genuinely care for him, making it more possible that loyalty to Brick factored into him standing up to Jo earlier.

In episode five, we start with Scott having a nightmare about a shark (Fang). He’s soon woken up by Brick’s alarm clock, though he’s not grateful for this; in fact, he begins punching the alarm clock as a demonstration of what he’s going to do to Brick later. Is it possible, then, that Scott would rather live in a nightmare, a place of strife and fear, than in a reality where he’s experienced a harmless transgression? Per freaking chance. Shortly after, Scott begins stealing from other players to frame Brick. It’s unclear whether this is because he’s mad at Brick for the alarm clock incident, or whether he recognizes Brick as a weak link on the team. Either way, this is probably the most premeditation we’ve seen from Scott, as his plan continues to develop throughout the episode, versus how he normally takes an action right after coming up with it to immediate success or failure.

During the challenge, Scott tells Brick to prove his loyalty to the team. There are many reasons he might have done this. One is because it’s simply fun to him; he might like seeing Brick squirm. Another is to gauge his actual loyalty and scope out his strengths/weaknesses to exploit them later. Once again, this could be a combination of the two; Scott doesn’t think highly of Brick, but he seems amused by him being a “doofus”. And after this, we see another instance of Scott ragging on someone (Sam) for being bad at the game despite that working to his advantage. It’s probably another instance of hubris: something along the lines of “I could do better than that; I won’t, but I could”.

Back to Mike, we see an example of him outright lying. Once again, I don’t blame him or necessarily think this makes him a bad person, but he is outwardly dishonest with Zoey when he claims that he just “gets so deep into character that he [doesn’t] know what [he’s doing]”. He promises to stop playing characters if Zoey wants him to, even though he can’t do that, and tells her she’s the most amazing girl in the world. His love for Zoey triumphs over his logic and planning for the future. He’s so desperate to be loved by her that he doesn’t even consider how to make that happen. This is similar to how Scott’s hatred for people or situations trumps his ability to consider consequences, as seen in episode three especially but also throughout the series. Both of them, despite trying to remain calculated and in control, are often so blinded by their emotions that they act or speak on a whim.

It’s at this point that I must inform you that I forgot that Scott accused Brick of stealing while he was underwater, making that his motivation for sending Brick down there. However, I do stand by the point that Scott’s also a bit of a sadistic little freak and just likes being mean, because he is. Sailing along, I also find it interesting how Scott has to whittle when he starts getting bored; another addition to the point that he’s impulsive at times. And returning to Mike, Dawn claims that Mike “likes her a lot” and “it’s all over his aura”. And now it’s at this point that I am becoming increasingly aware that Mike’s kind of just Zoey’s plus-one in terms of characterization and this post is pointless in that right, but I’ll be damned if I don’t stretch his actions thin enough to give him an actual personality, and then do the same for Scott, and then make them yaoi out. Mike’s a person that cares so deeply for people that it permeates his aura, the very essence of his being; his priority is to love people (Zoey) and be loved by people (Zoey).

When Scott finds out that his team got the better boat, despite wanting to lose, he doesn’t miss the opportunity to call them “suckers”. Once again, Scott’s goal is glossed over in favor of being a huge bitch to others. This reminded me of how, similar to how Mike’s a lover and wants to be loved, Scott’s a hater, and I think he might want to be hated. When you think about it, Scott hasn’t done a single kind thing to anyone on the island. He’s never upset when people dislike him, and takes every opportunity to be mean or sarcastic. When he does display a positive emotion, he never tells anyone or joins them in expressing it. Scott seemingly detests having positive relationships, perhaps because he’s simply annoyed and inconvenienced by them, but also perhaps because he’s afraid of losing them or feeling like he’s at the whims of another person’s emotions and wills. And in the end, as we know, Scott’s negative relationships will be his downfall, just like how Mike’s unwillingness to break his positive relationships will be his (as well as, y’know, Scott meddling). While it’s probably unintentional, they’re pretty decent foils for one another.

We get another Scott lore drop when he says that he’s been shooting kitchen rats with his Pappy since he was six. I’m not sure what to make of this really, I just think it’s kind of fucked up to have your kid shoot rats but like I also didn’t grow up in a hunting area so maybe that’s normal and not psychologically damaging. Later, Dawn tells Scott not to fire anymore goals, and he does anyways, to her annoyance. Scott has to know Dawn is suspicious of him, but he can’t resist pissing her off. See, he needs to make people mad; maybe he does this often, maybe he just wants to be on someone’s mind even if it's negative. He eventually tries to get smart about it and he does get her voted off later, but like, hello. This fucking guy. Even though Scott dislikes Dawn, however, he stops Jo and Anne Maria from hurting her after he frames her for stealing. Either he revels in her misery, or he secretly cares about her a bit; this is supported by the fact that she was the only person he didn’t talk about voting off his team in episode four. Anyways, back to Scott being stupid, he openly brags about his knock-off idols as well, when that’s super suspicious; like he really needed to rub salt in the wound that badly. Dawn even refers to him as soulless and sociopathic, and she’s not wrong. He’s so unconcerned with the wellbeing of others, as well as himself. It seems that nothing truly matters to him in the long term, so long as he continues meeting his short term victories in pursuit of what I believe to be an excuse rather than an actual reason. I think that rather than calculating his actions beforehand, Scott acts and creates a justification later, or a justification he can routinely add to. It seems that Scott might’ve picked the Rats because they were close and therefore easy targets. It would make more sense than his actual “plan”. He hurts people and tries to convince himself that he knows why when he probably doesn’t, which is awful but also somewhat tragic. He might not have a real sense of priorities or identity, but tricks himself into thinking otherwise to, once again, give himself more control. Does this make sense? Whatever, we’re like 5763 words in, it doesn't matter anymore.

Back to party sciking, in episode six, we see the formation of Team Men with Scott, Brick, and Lightning (and later, Sam). Scott’s finally making allies, and he doesn’t seem too upset about it. I think this might clue us into the idea that Scott does want positive relationships, but maybe doesn’t consciously understand that. He doesn’t fight Brick or Lightning on this when he normally would. Later, before the challenge, Mike tries to compliment Zoey, and in the confessional, she tells him to pick a side. And I feel like if you twist that enough we can get into bisexual territory, but I digress. Mike’s upset at his alters for ruining his relationship with Zoey, and while that’s true, he totally forgets to take into account that his alters are also people who also deserve access to the body. It’s more important to Mike that he gets what he wants rather than his alters get what they want, and above all, it's important that he maintains a firm grasp on his life with little to no interference. But he doesn’t seem aware of the fact that his alters are people. It’s almost like the personhood of someone can be diminished in service of his goals, and that he can cognitively distance himself from his actions if they become too (for lack of a better word) scary for him. This might sound familiar because it’s kind of what Scott does as well. They both hurt people in order to get what they want, it’s just that Mike’s unaware that he hurts people but aware of what he wants while Scott’s aware that he hurts people but unaware of exactly what he wants.

Zoey talks to Mike again, excited to dress a model, and despite the fact that he’s never shown an interest in fashion, Mike smiles. This is because Zoey’s giving him positive attention again. Mf is a bit of a lapdog to be honest. Scott would probably like someone like that, who’s loyal to a fault. The vision is visioning. Anyways, Mike catches a frog, not much to add but he does do that. Fang tries to catch Scott, and Scott notices and catches him with his own trap. He’s observant. Like Mike. They observe each other. Gay style. Scott also grins when Brick proposes a plan and creates an explosive. While Scott’s probably excited to see it blow up in his face, I like to think Scott also admires him a bit, adding to the idea that he secretly likes some aspects of his peers and just won’t express it. Mike tells Anne Maria that the maggot looks bad, which is slightly uncharacteristic of him but okay. He and Anne Maria were friendly before; maybe he’s trying to pull back in service of making Zoey feel better. He’s kind of destroying this sort-of friendship because he likes Zoey so much. Adding to this, he appears excited when Zoey says she wants to dress the maggot. He appears nervous when Jo argues with Anne Maria as well; whether this is because he still cares about Anne Maria despite everything or because he’s afraid of conflict/Jo is unclear.

It’s at this point that Scott begins manipulating Zoey. Just put a pin in that. Scott and Mike stand next to each other, if that’s anything? They also move similarly, like they’re subconsciously mimicking each other. Do you understand how difficult it is to write about Scike when it's episode six and the most they’ve actually interacted is standing near each other and looking in the same direction? Scott’s impressed by Sam, which is nice; he actually admires something about someone. I think being around people who he subconsciously wants to be friends with is making him slightly more willing to play the game and be nice to people in his own way. He even looks concerned when the yeti throws Sam, and again when the Maggots lose, like he doesn’t want to vote anyone out.

IT’S FREAKING TEAM SWAP TIME BABY THEY’RE ON THE SAME TEAM WAHOO!! Mike is immediately concerned, the most concerned out of the maggots. This is in part due to him approaching Zoey, but don’t forget, Mike thinks Scott’s off, he notices the things that he does and the way he behaves. Oh BABY he needs to save his friends from this guy, I smell a hero complex brewing.

In episode seven, the teams go into the mines. About eight minutes in, Mike finds a hat and excitedly explains that he’s always wanted one, to which Scott makes fun of him for being a “hat loving loser”. This is an uncharacteristically lame insult, which makes me think that Scott already has a distaste for Mike and is looking for any reason to insult him; this is probably because he knows that Mike’s onto him, and he doesn’t enjoy the mortifying ideal of being known. And it’ll ruin his plan or whatever. Later in the challenge, when Manitoba and Cameron are separated from Anne Maria, Zoey, and Scott, Scott tries to pin the split on Mike to get him booted. We can assume that Scott sees Mike as the biggest threat on his new team.

Later, Mike carries Cameron on his back to safety, and says that he hopes Zoey’s okay, despite him also being exposed to radiation. He thanks Cameron for coming back from him and calls him a friend. He’s just, so loyal to them, I don’t think I can say that enough. His friends mean so much to him. And I think Scott could see that and relate to it a bit, because instead of continuing to badger him, he suggests they lose the packs and find Anne Maria. The two of them, along with Zoey and Cameron, all look annoyed at Chris for not helping them, and Scott follows Mike as he leads the team to Anne Maria. I think it’s interesting that Scott stays with them even as the situation becomes life-threatening, and he even shares their surprise when the other team grabs their statue. The two of them run together to grab the statue and they both look happy to find it, even though Scott supposedly wants to lose. Maybe in this life threatening situation, they found an odd sort of comfort in and appreciation for one another, just for a brief moment. And despite knowing what Scott’s like, Mike trusts him with the statue as he runs off to save Zoey and Cameron, putting his own life in danger. This was obviously a mistake, as Scott throws it out, but for a second, it seemed like Scott was happy for him, when it was just him and Mike.

So Mike starts literally fucking dying defending his friends. Away from Scike, back to Mike prime, he’s about to be killed by the moles, has every chance to run for himself, and his radiation poisoning is getting worse by the second. But he still stayed behind to defend them. The situation got so dangerous that he even tried to tell Zoey about his DID, before Brick saved them. And that’s just??? SO fucking bananas holy shit. He cares about them so much, I dunno what to say. That’s his defining character trait and his fatal flaw, defending others; and it works even better juxtaposed with Scott, who’s defining trait and fatal flaw is only caring about himself. Foaming at the freaking MOUTH dude. He’s got issues, sure, but man he’s so sweet, love him. After this he’s the first person to confront Chris about this not being about the statues, but rather the mine; he’s more than likely upset that Chris put his friends in danger, especially for these ulterior motives. He’s so upset on their behalf, not even his own, that he stands up to the man who almost got him killed.

After this ordeal, Cameron confronts Mike about having DID. In his fear, Mike’s quick to ask who told him that. He’s afraid, first and foremost, that other people know and are talking about him; afraid that this has made him somehow unlikable or unlovable. At the mention of being able to control it, he’s overjoyed, and immediately agrees to help get rid of Scott. Scott’s the first person outside of Mike’s system who he’s been willing to genuinely disadvantage for his own goals. So Mike does not like Scott. But I feel like it’s an oddly intimate dislike. He dislikes him so personally, understands him so thoroughly with such disdain, for such little personal transgressions, that he’s willing to throw him under the bus to regain control over his situation. That’s special in a way, Scott’s the only person Mike would do that to. And considering how Scott treats everyone with hate as a way to cover his actual wants for human connection, and he hates Mike more than anyone else on the team, I feel like it’s safe to say they have strong mutual negative feelings in a way neither of them have experienced before. In a weird way, right now, with Mike having a sway over the team, he’s kind of more in control than he’s ever been. I can’t explain it, but the way they hurt each other goes beyond average contempt to me. In real life, yes, you shouldn’t hate someone that you have romantic feelings for; but I think something like this in fiction blurs the lines with intensity in regard for one another. It’s a blending of concepts. Lois it insists upon itself, but in a fun and intriguing way. I love when characters hate each other with the intensity and obsession that other characters love each other with.

It’s 2:40 AM and I just hit my pen so I could really lock in for these last two episodes before Mike’s eliminated but idk if it’s going to work.

In episode eight, we start off with the teams on the rafts. Scott comes up looking anxious about getting eaten by a shark, and Mike returns the expression, and says that the shark will never find them. This could be Mike comforting himself or comforting Zoey and Cameron, but do you know what it could also be? Comforting Scott. The person he’s responding to. Mike and Scott don’t like each other, but Scott still came to Mike first, and Mike still had it in him not to shame or ignore him. Am I making a big deal out of nothing? Absolutely.

At this point, Cameron explains to the audience what causes each of Mike’s alters to front: Vito fronts when the body is shirtless, Svetlana fronts when there’s a physical challenge, Chester fronts when frustrated, and Manitoba fronts when the body’s wearing a hat. I’m not sure what to make of Manitoba’s trigger(?), but the others make it apparent that Mike isn’t able to handle or is rarely able to handle physical challenges, frustration, or being shirtless by himself. And this is where I should talk about Mike’s trauma, probably. I’m not going to get too into things here because I’m not an expert on DID and also it could be mildly upsetting, but DID develops due to repeated early childhood trauma and different alters may be better equipped to handle certain feelings, tasks, relationships, or memories than others. Mike had to have experienced this repeated trauma and it likely had some sort of physical component, considering Vito’s triggered by the removal of the shirt and he mentions in his character bio that he doesn’t have any good childhood memories besides maybe riding his bike. This, as well as the rejection we discussed earlier, explains a lot about Mike’s personality unfortunately. He’s used to being hurt, and seeks control, stability, and love for that reason. He’s loyal and quick to form attachments because he probably didn’t/doesn’t have any at home. And he’s self-preserving and protective and aware of his surroundings because of this as well, because he has to be. We don’t know exactly what happened in Mike’s life, though there is an “Uncle Vinny” in his character bio (mentioned by Vito) and it is possible that Chester is an introject of an older relative. Regardless, it doesn’t matter. I would like to return to Scott for a moment, and renew the topic of his home life. We’ve discussed how Scott’s family probably isn’t well off, doesn’t show him enough affection, and likely never disciplined him in a way that stuck considering how he behaves. And his father encouraging him to kill rats for him doesn’t sound great either. Like Mike, it would make sense for Scott to have an unstable/unhealthy home life, and for that to translate in his characters. He also needs power over other people, he pushes away people and refuses to make friends, he has patterns of violence, and he’s fast to learn what makes people tick.

Back to the scene, Zoey starts by complimenting Mike, which he’s excited about (need for approval, ok). However, he becomes nervous when she says it feels like he’s hiding from her. Then when Dakota starts mutating, Mike is the first to diffuse the situation by stating that her hair is growing back. He also leads the charge in pulling the sign out of the raft. After Dakota throws out the sign, Mike also says that they have to get in the water instead. When Scott reminds him about the shark and tries to refuse, Mike shoves him into the water, annoyed. It’s sort of fascinating how much more dominating Mike is in this episode compared to others. Maybe almost dying (or rather, almost losing his friends) in the mine changed him. Or maybe he has more confidence now that he’s the strongest person in his friend group and he doesn’t care what Scott thinks of him, evident by him forcing Scott into the water when he never would’ve done that to someone else. Mike, again, tells the team to stay quiet to avoid provoking the kraken. Man is going off this episode. He’s instantly annoyed when Scott starts freaking out over the shark, he’s so done dealing with this man that he can’t handle it and Chester takes over. Dude they’re soooo in hate. <3 After this, Scott is irate over his team winning, more than he’s ever been before. His feelings are so strong that he’s focusing extra hard on this faux-goal to destroy his own team. Mike’s also upset because the challenge is dangerous, “even by [Chris’] standards”, probably because the last challenge was also ridiculously dangerous and he’s worried about a repeat.

While Mike and Cameron go ahead to win the challenge at Mike’s behest, Scott talks to Zoey. He knows that Mike has a secret just by watching them, and lets Zoey in on this to manipulate her. After this, Mike and Cameron tell Zoey that Scott’s bad news in return, and she claims that he still has a heart. Mike is saddened by the fact that Zoey trusts Scott more than him, and I just think that’s such a…thing to happen. In trying to keep Zoey close by hiding his DID, he just pushed her away more, towards someone who’s so similar to him yet so different as well. We find out from Cameron that Mike fronts when Zoey’s in danger, because he cares about her that much. Scott also steals the team’s compass from Mike and frames him for losing it, blaming him if they come in last, but he fails when Dakota clears the forest of thorns. Scott keeps losing to someone who should be so easy to beat and who represents everything that he hates: kindness, loyalty, and people who stand up to him. Meanwhile, Mike’s alters are becoming increasingly hard to control, and he’s still unwilling to admit to having DID, afraid this will dissolve the relationship that’s already crumbling due to him not revealing it; he’s stuck in an Ouroboros of fear. Scott, immediately after this, seems to be mocking Mike, loudly saying to Zoey, “Would I lie to you?” Scott just knows how to push this guy’s buttons in the perfect way to piss him off.

When Scott loses the challenge for them, Mike’s probably the most upset we’ve ever heard him, at least in my opinion. He doesn’t hesitate to let Scott know that he fucked up and that Mike thinks he’s full of shit. Mike tries to get Zoey to vote for Scott, done with this charade; Scott feels the same about playing around like this, and gets Cameron to admit that Mike has DID— but he doesn’t want Mike out yet, he wants to toy with him some more. You can see the horror in his face when Scott pulls out the idol. In order for Dakota to go home, it couldn’t have just been Zoey to vote for her, and Mike and Cameron voted for Scott, and Dakota probably didn’t vote for herself. Scott had to have either voted with her, or voted for himself for fun; but irregardless, he didn’t vote for Mike, even though he’s clearly Scott’s biggest target. He doesn’t just want Mike out, but wants to use him first, something we haven’t seen before. And yes, this is because Scott’s a bad person, and taking advantage of his weaknesses; but having his weaknesses known and used by someone would be a sort of ideal scenario for Mike, despite also being his literal nightmare. He doesn’t have to hide from Scott at all, Scott’s probably the only person that Mike can fully be mad at and confront about that anger. Which is very fucked up, but also oddly close, I guess. It’s a unique relationship, it’s interesting to me. The mortifying yet somewhat comforting ideal of being known going both ways. Toxic yaoi. Hate as an allegory for love. Y’know, the usual.

The toxic yaoi continues in episode nine baby, we freaking made it. The first line that catches my eye (or ear I guess) is “Multiple Mike thinks he’s a ladies man, what a loser”. First of all, reeks of gay thoughts and unaware jealousy; but second of all, notice how Scott and Mike continuously get more and more openly aggressive with one another. They’re falling into a routine with it, almost.

This is where Scott introduces the deal— AKA, starts blackmailing Mike to help him win the challenge. Mike’s incredibly upset, and even considers telling Zoey about his DID, but is ultimately still too afraid. He’d rather be used than be abandoned. During the challenge, Mike tries to quip back at Scott for telling him to look in the broom closet, but retracts it when Scott threatens to tell Zoey. He tries to look tough to Scott, but fails. And when Zoey’s in trouble, Scott refuses to let him help her, in favor of making him go through the trash. Like with everyone, Scott likes to see Mike squirm, but I think he’s best at it with Mike, and the most enthusiastic about it too.

I’d also like to mention here that Mike just kind of gives up and lets Scott pick him up and carry him. Just saying idk you know when you just pick up some guy who you hate instead of making him actually fight for you or run in front of you or whatever. Mike also snarks Scott when his car doesn’t work, which, ok, go off King. Mike finally stands up for himself to help Zoey, the desire to protect her stronger than his fear, but Scott remembers how to trigger Vito to front and uses this to his advantage.

So, at this point, Vito gets clobbered and Mike has the fight with his alters, and it’s soooo bad, it’s so bad dude. They’re all fighting for control as if the moral isn’t that they should work together, it’s ridiculous, but I guess it also makes sense for Mike to be pushed to this considering everything? Glossing over this, anyways, Mike finally comes clean to Zoey and explains that he didn’t want Zoey to think badly of him. And I know everyone hates this scene, I hate this scene, “multiples just means there’s more Mike to —” yeah yeah yeah yeah fuck off idc that’s not how it works. But at least I think it does help draw a final parallel between Mike’s relationships with Zoey and Scott along with Scott eliminating him. Mike’s able to pursue his loving relationship with Zoey through her finding out about his closest secret, and Mike and Scott similarly are able to freely insult each other and develop this toxic almost-codependent-but-Scott’s-way-worse relationship because they also know each other, they know they’re hiding something and they’re familiar with each other’s personalities because hate drives them to look so deeply into each other. Mike gains Zoey and loses his dynamic with Scott, and vice versa, back and forth. These relationships can’t coexist, both because they’re so polarizing but also so similar in their intensity.

I didn’t watch the entirety of episodes ten through thirteen because it’s 4 AM and this is a Scike post, a 9274 word Scike post. But I did scrub through them and I would like to throw out there the Icarus imagery in episode ten when Zoey burns Scott for what he did to Mike, like Scott got too close to the sun or too in over his head, and Mike was his ultimate downfall. I’m also just going to skitter on past the “Mike makes fun of Scott while he’s in the trauma chair” because what the fuck. What was that.

The relationship between Mike and Scott in canon is, admittedly, less significant in canon than it is in my head, and less well-written and intriguing than I pretend it is, and it’s not healthy, and no matter how I spin it they never actually made up or understood each other in a major tangible way. But I think they should have. I think having them be characters who begrudgingly understand each other and care for each other in a way they don’t acknowledge or even recognize would give them some much-needed depth and maybe consistency. Scott in canon has no close relationships, and the two that Mike has weren’t necessarily great throughout the season even though I like to think that they are. It would be good for them. Adding a few more layers to each of them would explain a lot about their goals, their mannerisms, the contradictions in their personalities; it would make them both more sympathetic and relatable, into some maladjusted teenagers looking for an outlet rather than just a good guy and a bad guy who hate each other.

In conclusion, this post didn’t make much sense, and it was kind of a waste of time. But it was fun to think about these guys, and I could fix them, and also they’re more toxic in canon than first thought but I’m not necessarily complaining, because what’s a character without conflict and what’s a story without a theme? I didn’t edit or organize it, this was more or less my notes from rewatching the first nine episodes of ROTI. I’m aware it was super repetitive and rambly but I don’t have the time or energy to clean it up so, make of them what you will. Maybe this gave you a new perspective on Mike and Scott, maybe it didn’t, I dunno, I’m indifferent now, perchance. Like and subscribe for more Party Sciking. I need them to hold hands and wear the get along shirt and go to therapy. This ended up being more or less 9,738 words. Hope everything’s right in this, let me know your thoughts but please don’t tell me if you hate it. Goodnight Miami.

#alex’s td rambles #total drama #td scike #throws this to you. i don't remember half of what i wrote here #take a shot every time i say control or trust or power or annoy or smile or love or #cw abuse mentions #just in case #also i hope i got the psych stuff right i promise i did research #cw toxic relationship

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lady-wallace · 6 months ago

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Unholy Confessions Part 1 (Hellsing)

New Hellsing fic because I fell into an Alutegra brainrot pit recently and needed to exorcise the demons. Hope you all enjoy this mess.

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(Post canon AU) It didn’t take Alucard 30 years to come back but the aftermath of his success at fighting against the Major’s plan brings only confusion and longing in its wake with his new condition. Integra hadn’t intended for the aftermath of the Incident to lead to certain confessions being spoken aloud but now that they’re out in the open the two are forced to unpack their true feelings for each other.

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Read on Ao3

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“Is it the lack of control that makes you ill or the blood itself?” Integra asked.

Alucard looked up at her. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just know how it makes me feel not the why behind it. My body seems to want to reject it either way.”

Integra digested this information. She finally pulled the chair from his desk over and sat down, facing him.

“Before…you had all of those souls inside of you, all the lives you had consumed.”

“Yes…”

“Where are all the souls now, Alucard?”

He sighed softly allowing his eyes to slide shut. “They are all gone. I released them into whatever afterlife they had waiting for them once I was through. It is only me now.”

Integra stared at him in shock. She had not expected that answer, but it made a lot more sense now how he had been able to escape the Major’s trap. “I did not know you could do that.”

“Neither did I.”

“Is that why you are like this then?” she asked quietly.

He chuckled wryly. “Without the souls of millions bolstering me, yes, I am weak right now.”

“I see,” she replied. “And what am I to do with a weak dog, Alucard?”

He huffed a chuckle, watching her through half closed eyes. “I understand why you’re angry, my Master. I have been a very disobedient dog, and will humbly endure whatever punishment you see fit.”

She clicked her tongue at him. “I can’t do more than you’ve already done to yourself,” she said in disgust, pointedly eyeing his bandages.

“And yet you are the only soul alive who can truly wound me.”

Integra ignored his dramatics, and any possible truth to them and finally said, “Alucard, tell me something.”

“Yes?”

“Why does my blood affect you more than anyone else’s?”

He paused, cocking his head to one side. “Why, because you are my Master. I’m bound to you. When you found me in that basement, your blood was the first thing I had tasted for a very long time. You hold power over me, so subsequently, your blood does as well.”

“I see,” Integra said slowly, then after a moment’s contemplation, “Did my father give you blood as well?”

Alucard chuckled. “Very rarely. Only once, I think, to bind himself to the contract after your grandfather’s death.”

Integra stared down at her hands. “If I were to allow you to drink my blood, do you believe it would cure this ailment of yours?”

Alucard’s eyes began to glow, the pupils dilating. “Are you offering, my Master?”

“Answer me.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I cannot say for certain, I have never…felt this way before so I have nothing to measure it by. But I do believe it will help.”

Integra closed her eyes briefly, and reached down to pull off the glove of her left hand before she shrugged out of her coat and unbuttoned her cuff. “While I find this extremely distasteful, I do not want to see you suffering, Alucard.” She rolled up her sleeve to expose her forearm. “So you may have some of my blood, but only a little.”

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #hellsing fanfiction #alucard x integra #alucard/integra #alucard hellsing #integra hellsing #alucard whump #pining #integra in denial #love confessions #blood drinking

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lollytea · 2 years ago

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((Part One of my Showbiz AU exposition posts!! Sorry my demons took over. I have more to say but this was already getting too long so I have to chop it up. The actual meat of the AU coming tomorrow.))

Willow Park was discovered in a supermarket when she was two years old while happily swinging her chubby legs back and forth in a shopping cart baby seat, teething on a rainbow coloured set of plastic keys. Her parents were offered the opportunity to get her into commercial modeling for a fat check.

Maybe if the circumstances had been different, Gilbert and Harvey would have rejected the offer on the spot. However, things were not going financially well in the Park household. Harvey had recently been let go from his job and Gilbert was already disowned by his parents, so they didn't have their support to fall back on. And they were scared. They were scared of what would become of Willow if they couldn't afford to take care of her.

The rules they applied to this whole venture were simple. The second it appeared that this lifestyle was taking a negative effect on Willow, they pull her out of it immediately and try something else.

So Willow became a baby model. And the overlap between model and actor was thin enough that she quickly stumbled into the latter. Mainly commercials and movie/TV roles with anywhere from one to a handful of lines. But it paid well and even though she was little, she seemed to enjoy it. She had a captivating stage presence. She was silly and clumsy but directors and audiences found that charming.

When Willow was four, she began repeatedly bumping into another little girl at auditions and they drew little crayon doodles together on the edges of their scripts while they waited their turn. Soon enough, Willow Park and Amity Blight were best friends and lit up every time they saw each other in those high ceiling audition rooms with the weird squeaky floors.

But when Willow was six, going on seven, she did an awful lot of growing. And that changed everything.

Amity had always booked more roles than Willow, but that had never bothered her because she had never known any different. And besides, Willow had always gotten SOMETHING at least.

Willow enjoyed acting and her Dads made sure to never make her aware that they relied on her income for fear of putting that huge responsibility on her shoulders. To her, it wasn't a job, just a fun thing she did.

But once she reached a certain age, it became difficult to book any roles at all. Nothing. Nobody wanted her.

Amity, by comparison, seemed to be getting every role personally handed to her. And this was the point where she abruptly severed ties with her best friend, utterly shattering Willow into a million pieces.

Nobody wanted her. Not even her best friend wanted her. Willow didn't know what had changed so suddenly but it burned under her skin. There was something inherently wrong with her. Nobody wanted her.

Harvey and Gilbert quickly noticed the damage that acting had done to their daughter's self esteem so they quickly drew further away from the spotlight before things got any worse.

Willow did not retire from acting completely. There was still maybe one or two background roles a year. Usually no lines. Just to keep them financially afloat. By this point, both Harvey and Gilbert had found ways to bring home money. It wasn't a lot and they were still scraping by but ultimately, Willow's childhood, education and future were to be prioritized so sacrifices had to be made.

They hoped to retain some sense of normalcy to Willow's life. So, after a year and a half of Harvey's home schooling, Willow was enrolled in public school, where she remained from the ages of 7 to 13.

This was supposed to make things better. And in a way, it did. Or at least it gave Willow the necessary experience to navigate the real world and help her develop into a relatively gentle, wise and down to earth soul. But it was also absolute Hell.

Harvey had always presumed that his daughter was a late bloomer and never thought much of it when she was still reading at a kindergarten level at age 7, but it presented itself as a complete abomination of a problem once she was thrown into the public school system.

Willow was dyslexic. This severely hindered her academic performance, as well as severely hindering her classmates' ability to leave her the fuck alone.

Willow doesn't like to talk about the period of her life where she attended public school. Except maybe in therapy. Or to Hunter at 3:34AM after he's told her something debatably more fucked up about his own childhood. But this was the only point in her life where she felt completely and utterly alone in this world.

She had her Dads, she'd always have her Dads. But she kept the brunt of her misery to herself because she knew that they would make her problems their problems and they were struggling enough as it was.

It was for her. Everything they did was for her. She eavesdropped on the heated debates they had late at night (They should've been asleep too. They had work in the morning) over what the next move was.

They were both painfully aware that Willow's full time acting career brought in the most money but if she didn't want to be in show business anymore, they needed to do whatever it took to make sure she could stay in school and her future was bright. College, university, whatever she wanted. (Harvey had tirelessly studied the best career opportunities and not-so-sutbly attempted to get her on board.)

Truth be told, Willow didn't know what she wanted. All she knew for sure was that she couldn't stay in public school a moment longer. She didn't know how to feel about acting these days. It was a mixed bag. But it was definitely preferable to the torture chamber of a middle school girls bathroom.

When Willow was thirteen, she reactivated her acting career, and she did it with a smile on her face. She hoped that her parents could maybe sleep soundly for the first time in six years.

She got lucky. Miraculously lucky. She wasn't sure if she believed in God after the last six years but SOMEBODY out there was looking out for her. Because near immediately, they found a casting call that read: "Age 12-14. Female. Plus size. Non-White." A casting call that Willow had never seen in all her years in show business, (at least not the ones her Dads approved of) let alone for a gig in one of the most popular tweenage networks on television. And this was no background position either, but a lead role.

If Willow could book this, her family would be set.

So, she read for the role. Well, she memorized the script after staying up till 2am with Gilbert. And she put her acting experience to use by pretending to read a script.

And that was how Willow booked the role of Paulina on television's upcoming tween phenomenon 'Hexside', a series about wacky shenanigans in a witches high school.

She was quick to learn that while she would have a significant presence on the show, she was not the leading lady, but rather, the ditzy quirky best friend.

The actual protagonist and Willow's co-star who she'll be spending the next several months with? (and possibly years if season 1 is a success)

Amity Blight.

#La La Land Machine AU

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slytherinshua · 1 year ago

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HOYOUNG HUSBAND HEADCANONS

genre. fluff. headcanons. househusband hoyoung we stan. warnings. kissing. not proofread cause i'm too lazy for that shit. pairing. husband!hoyoung x reader. wc. 1.3k. a/n. what is it w me and husband verivery brainrot recently it's actually so insane and not okay i need help. househusband hoyoung has been in my head ever since i saw him talk about it on weekly idol(?) its just been constant brainrot omg

Husband Hoyoung who loves to wake up with his arms wrapped around you

He loves everything about it— the way his body warmth mingles with yours and all he can feel in the moment is you with his head tucked into the crook of your neck

Once he’s awake enough he’ll start littering gentle kisses in that region, but while he’s still half asleep, he just breathes in your familiar scent and hugs you a bit tighter as he clings onto the last bit of sleep he’s going to get

If he wakes up and he can’t feel his arms wrapped around your waist, he’ll furrow his eyebrows in his still-sleepy state and try to blink open his eyes to figure out where you were if not in his arms

And if you’re still lying on the bed, he’ll reach out to pull you to his chest so he can try waking up again, this time with you properly nestled in between his strong arms

If you’ve already gotten up and are getting ready for the day in the bathroom he’ll be content to just watch you, still drowsy and blinking away the remaining sleep from his eyes

He’ll say good morning to you in his groggy deep morning voice that you find so endearing, but he doesn’t just say it for the sake of saying it— he really means it; every morning is a good morning when he can wake up next to you

He shakes off his sleepy state quickly, though, because morning usually mean you heading off to work fairly directly and he thinks that it’s his job as your husband to make you breakfast before you go

He’ll make whatever you ask for, and it always turns out delicious because he puts such dedication and love into his cooking— it’s his way of expressing some of his love for you

Though, he expresses it in many ways. In the gentle kisses he gives you in the morning before you leave for work, in the handmade meals he serves you for breakfast lunch and dinner, in the questions he always asks you after you get home from work

“Did you have a good day?” “No? What happened, love?” “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m always here for cuddles instead if that’s all you need.”

And you could never reject an offer to cuddle your husband because you love the way you fit perfectly in his arms even more than he does. Hugging Hoyoung is like a addiction, no matter how many times you do it, it gets better and better every time, and you doubt you could ever get tired of it

Hoyoung likes to have long conversations with you once you get back home. He always starts by asking how your day was to gauge how you might be feeling and what he can do to make you feel better if that’s what you need

But once he’s sure you’re feeling good, he’ll update you on what he’s accomplished that day. Whether it be domestic things like reorganising the guest room upstairs or deep-cleaning the kitchen, you always smile at how he tells you so eagerly

He’ll tell you about his daily outings to go shopping or walk around. He smiles as he tells you about the cute baby girl with pigtails he saw on his walk by the river and how she had given him a high-five and smiled so widely

And you can easily believe it because who wouldn’t smile at your sweet husband, Hoyoung?

You could easily listen to him talk all day, and when he fills you in on everything you’ve missed while at work, you can’t help but smile and relax and let his voice soothe you from the tiring day

Hoyoung really is the best thing to come home to after a long day. A warm dinner waiting made with love and a handsome husband to hug and kiss as soon as you walk through the door are all you could ever need

He learned how to get good at giving massages after one particularly tiring night when you came home and asked him for one. Now he does it like a routine— once you’re settled on the couch next to him, he’ll continue his discussions like usual with his hands going to work at rubbing out the knots that have formed throughout. And it’s really the nicest feeling in the world to be able to relax into his touch as if he has the power to erase every concern and worry that was rested heavily on your shoulders until that point

Sometimes you feel bad that you’re gone for most of the day, and yet, when you come back home after not seeing Hoyoung for the whole day, it’s still him that is doing things for you— feeding you, taking care of your exhausted body, giving you calming words of reassurance

But he assures you that it’s his favourite thing to do in the whole world and he’s just happy you’re back home, even if it means a little extra work for him

It feels imbalanced to you at times, but to Hoyoung, there’s a perfect balance between the two of you. In fact, he views his job as your husband to care for you, and he loves to know that he’s fulfilling his role as perfectly as he can

You like to thank him for everything he does for you in many ways, whether it be long hugs before you leave and after you come back, or leaving little notes around the house for him to find when he cleans later, or, his favourite, kissing him slowly and gently once you see him again

He loves to melt into your lips and savour the taste of your cherry lip balm— his hands sneaking to hold your waist in the most gentle touch that has you almost devastatingly in love with him. You’ll cup his cheek with your hand or comb your fingers through his hair while you kiss him, yours lips sending millions of thanks to him silently through the affectionate action

You love to watch as his dimples slowly grow on his cheeks as he laughs after a kiss. It’s just for a short moment, as if they just say a quick hi to you before they’re gone again as he’s pulling you back in for another kiss

And as you say thank you to him through the kiss, he’s saying I miss you and I love you and countless other enchanting messages to convey all his sentiments that have you only kissing him a bit harder and pulling him a bit closer

Hoyoung thinks that regular days are wonderful. He loves the routine of it all, and how much he can accomplish throughout the day while waiting to see you again, but he thinks that the rarer days are even more precious to him

The days where you don’t have anywhere to be and you can just stay with him

On these days, he’ll sleep in extra late with you, and spend even more time cuddling under the warmth of the blankets before finally pulling you both out from under the comfort to fill your stomachs and make plans for the day

These days are always reserved as date days

You like these days the most because they’re one of the only times that you can focus on spoiling Hoyoung instead of the other way around. Your entire attention is able to be on him and only him and you cherish it

He deserves to be on the receiving end of every bit of devotion he shows you daily, and you make sure to shower him with it all on days when you’re able to

That’s what you like most about your relationship, you’re always perfectly balanced. You and Hoyoung even each other out and fit together more perfectly than anyone else could for either of you, and you’re spent savouring every second you get to spend with him

↳ verivery taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast,, @ddeonudepressions,, @edensgardenn

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foxymoxynoona · 2 years ago

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i have a drabble request for your anniversary 🥺

it’s not related to any of your stories… but since you’re so good at writing about kids, could we please have a drabble where yoongi is a dad calmly letting his tiny kiddos crawl all over him (maybe one running a teeny tiny car up his arm and one draped over his thigh pointing at things on his laptop screen etc) as he quietly works on his computer or something like that 🥹🥹 like never once telling them to get off of him, just letting them be like his irl counterpart whenever the tannies bother him 🥹 then maybe eventually oc feels bad for him and rounds them up so that their daddy can work in peace 🥹

Ok I sort of got carried away and I'm not sure I checked all the boxes but I hope you still enjoy this!

Characters: Dad Yoongi x Y/N, their two kids Length: 4878 World: It can stand alone but it's the same kiddos as this one shot

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“The cat forgot to lock the door. Mouse came to visit and the door was…”

“Ajar,” Yoongi said, not even looking away from his laptop, balanced precariously on the armrest of the couch.

Kija remained silent. He contemplated. Yoongi didn’t look at him, just waited.

He resumed reading but did not repeat the word the way he used to. Before, if he found something he didn’t know, it was easy to offer the answer. His spongy young mind latched onto every new discovery and wanted to immediately try it his new knowledge. But now, suddenly, he didn’t want the help. He refused it. Didn’t even acknowledge with a tantrum unless you pushed it, he just moved right along after a pause, as if he wanted to pretend he hadn’t heard.

Yoongi continued to half-listen, half-let Kija’s voice fade into the background as a third half of his brain tried to make sense of the session notes –wait that wasn’t the right number of halves. He closed his eyes and let out a slow, quiet breath.

Joo reached over and rolled her toy car across the keyboard. Ah, that’s where the other half of his brain was supposed to be.

“Hey,” he cooed, and gently nudged her hand away. “That’s not a road, aegiya. Not on the keyboard.”

“Appa are you listening to me?” Kija demanded.

“I am.”

A catch-22: Kija wanted to be simultaneously closely listened to and unperceived.

Kija gave him a hard glare, then turned back to the book. First grade was a struggle so far, that was the truth. But Yoongi swallowed the smile because his son still wanted to be heard, and tuned more of his brain to it, and more of his brain to shuffling Joo to the other side of the couch, even though it meant he had to move towards the middle and shift his laptop to balance on his knees. It wasn’t conducive to answering emails. Nor was having two halves of his brain now focused on two children with no more halves left for email reading. Especially an email with label notes on the recent album, notes he needed to ingest and consider and then spit out into two categories: those I will consider, those I reject completely.

He looked at Joo. Her eyes widened, two dark starry orbs. At two, she could already speak in full sentences but often chose not to, keeping most of her odd little thoughts to herself until she’d suddenly surprise you.

Now she pointed at the computer and asked him, “Is it a good one?”

“A good one? Is what a good one?”

“Make the music, Appa.”

“No, not yet, we’re listening to Kijaya read right now,” he reminded her. He touched a finger to his lips to shush her.

Kija grumbled behind them and huffed, “Don’t listen to me.” Yoongi glanced over his shoulder; Kija glanced over his own shoulder to check if Yoongi was watching, then quickly looked away. He resumed reading, his little voice slow and soft, caressing each word with uncertainty, as if waiting for Yoongi to correct him.

Yoongi did not. Mistakes were nothing to be ashamed of. Yoongi was all too familiar with performance anxiety and wouldn’t create it in his son by interrupting his storytelling for something trivial like a mispronounced word. You could be right later, your first contributions to the world should just be about presence.

“Don’t listen so much to me,” Kija complained in the silence. “It’s too quiet. I can’t read when it’s quiet.”

“You’re doing well,” Yoongi said. As soon as he spoke, Kija started reading again, like he could slip his words beneath his father’s and leave them half hidden, half heard. So Yoongi asked Joo quietly, “Do you want to see the audio?”

Joo sounded so serious as she answered, “Yeah.” She got that ‘yeah’ from Yoongi, he knew that. He didn’t babytalk his children much, just certain words, certain pet names, but mostly he spoke to them with respect and trust from the time they were babies, and it provided him endless amusement when they repeated him later. “Just live life,” Kija used to say when he meant I don’t know. “Ah, I see,” Kija used to say, an exact copy of Yoongi. “Ah, I see,” Joo would repeat now too, her expression even more of a mirror. And then sometimes, “You think so?” A little toddler, short ponytails sticking straight out from her head like antennae, asking, “You think so?” as if taunting about how the attempts to get a nap out of her were going to go. She badly needed the nap but God forbid you try to get her down if Kija was home. She could not miss out on a single minute of whatever her favorite older brother was doing.

Yoongi opened an audio file, muted, but let her watch the visualizer on his screen. Her eyes reflected the rising and falling bars, the red, orange, yellow, and green blocks she recreated with wooden blocks. He was certain that’s what she was doing, stacking them next to each other, adding and subtracting blocks. You insisted he was projecting but he knew what he knew.

Kija glanced over and his voice faltered before he returned his attention to his book, little face a scowl. Suddenly he slammed the book shut and threw it to the floor.

“Hm?” Yoongi prompted, gentle. Joo’s gasp was loud.

“Oh no! Book is down!” she cried, and instantly lowered herself to the ground to fetch it. “Kiki you drop him!”

“I don’t want it,” he scoffed. His arms crossed and he turned his back to her, awkwardly facing the back of the couch in a full sulk.

Yoongi held his hand out for the book and said again, “Hm.”

“Hm.” Kija mocked. Angry. Such an angry little boy sometimes lately, and it scared Yoongi. He hadn’t expected Kija to feel that kind of anger until he was at least a rebellious adolescent –and hopefully Yoongi would be able to help him manage that better than he had his own. You were the one who better knew how to handle the emotions and behavior of this age; Yoongi never knew what was normal and what wasn’t, what online articles to believe, or which pediatrician could be trusted. You’d gone through three now, each one shed after some perceived failure on Yoongi’s part. In life, he was open to compromise on most things. But not music. Not his devotion to you. And not the health and needs of his children.

“Do you not like the story anymore?” Yoongi asked gently. “Or are you frustrated?” The boy who at other times could wax poetic about the shenanigans of his friends at school now just grunted and twisted further away on the couch. “We can read a different book if you’re bored with that one,” Yoongi offered as a way out.

“Diff book!” Joo cheered and went right to the stack by the door to get her favorite National Geographic book, one of those big heavy glossy coffee table ones –a gift from Uncle Namjoon, as if he didn’t think Yoongi would instill enough appreciation for nature in his own kids. The book was clunky in her arms as she determinedly hauled it over.

“You’re doing great at reading,” Yoongi assured Kija. It was true. He was a little behind his peers, but nothing alarming; the fact he could read at all by six seemed insane to Yoongi. He hadn’t been reading at six. Kids these days… everything in the schools was so different. Everything in the world too, frankly. Phones, computers, video games, social media–

Yoongi pushed away the bigger worries and continued, “I had a hard time with it in school too but it worked out in the end, I just had to keep at it.” Even as he said it, Yoongi hated his own words. He still didn’t read much for pleasure, though sometimes he found articles that were worth the effort. Music had always come more easily to him, the notes on a staff making more sense to him than letters on a page. He liked poetry, too. Lyrics. Heavy prose bored him, he had no patience for dense pages.

“I don’t have a hard time with it!” Kija shouted and spun again to keep Yoongi from reaching for him. Just as he reached for his son, Joo dropped the book on her foot and began to wail. The heavy cover opened so the book landed standing upright, and when she reached down for her foot, she bashed her mouth on the corner.

In moments like this, with both kids crying, Yoongi found his steadiness overwhelmed. He felt like a bad dad because inside his calm resolve began to fracture and his cool exterior was a lie. Dads shouldn’t have to lie like that. He didn’t have the right words or energy to wrap two crying children up in a tornado of hugs and kisses that would distract them with warmth the way you did. You’d always recognized his steadiness, his caretaking, even though it was lowkey. He was dependable. But a frustrated six year old and a two year old with a boo-boo didn’t need cautious reliability, they needed… you.

But you weren’t here right now. Hour twenty-six of the fifty-four you’d be away. Not that he was counting or anything.

Yoongi scooped Joo up to comfort first, only to realize she was bleeding. Not hospital level bad, but more than he wanted his daughter to bleed, her little lip red where she’d hit the book. For a moment he had parental panic because steadfastness didn’t teach you how to soothe a bleeding toddler. He grabbed a napkin from the pile he’d accumulated from takeout bags over time and pressed it to her lip and bounced her around and tried to think of a silly song to distract her but his mind was blanking on children’s songs because it rattled him. Even a little bit of blood was an unwelcome reminder of how little he could truly do to protect his children.

“Are we ready for ice cream? I think it’s a good idea,” he decided. Suddenly Kija was more interested. Joo stopped wailing and nodded at him with her big watery eyes still leaking tears. At least today the hurt was something he could fix with a special treat.

While funneling ice cream into his mouth, Kija returned to his more cheerful self. Chocolate smeared across his cheeks, he suddenly poured out a stream of stories from school as Yoongi tried to keep Joo from getting chocolate all down the front of her white dress. It was hopeless. Only a stylish person with no kids (Hoseok) would give a child such an expensive all-white dress. You had sagged against the wall laughing later when the two of you discovered it was dry-clean only after a messy meal, and Yoongi had fallen in love with you all over again, that you could laugh so hard about what others might cry over. Into the regular wash the white dress had gone and so far it was still rotating through, though the chocolate might finally be the stain that took it down.

“And then my friend Tum had to clean the whole house all by himself and it took him four hours,” Kija shared. “His family didn’t even help! It was so mean.”

Belatedly Yoongi realized he wasn’t really listening, and quickly prompted, “How did you hear about this?” despite his initial impulse to point out this was unlikely to be true.

“He wrote about it for Daily.”

“What’s daily?”

Kija suddenly looked very serious. Yoongi could practically feel him shrink away. Suddenly he perked up and started talking about something else completely, “Giganotosaurus was bigger than the t-rex but not as smart.”

“Who would win in a fight?” Yoongi asked, taking a page from Jungkook’s parenting book without meaning to. The question never failed to get kids talking though, he had to hand it to him.

“Um… I don’t know how to answer that because they lived in different places.”

Yoongi didn’t try to contain his laughter. It confused Kija and Joo, though it didn’t slow down their ice cream consumption.

“You are so much like me sometimes,” Yoongi muttered.

“No I’m not.”

“No? I think you are. That’s a good thing, I hope.”

“You don’t want to be like me?”

Yoongi quickly corrected, “No, maybe you don’t want to be like your dad. Sometimes kids don’t want to be like their fathers. You can be your own person too, I don’t mean you have to be exactly like me. Just that we think alike sometimes.”

“So what?”

“Yea, so what,” Yoongi nodded. But his brain cycled back in the conversion and he pressed, “Hey, what’s the Daily thing you mentioned?”

Kija answered easily this time, “Every day after Morning Meeting the teacher tells us something we have to write about in our journal.”

“What do you write about?”

“Um… stuff. I don’t know. Dinosaurs and dogs and… dumplings.”

“Only things that start with ‘D’?”

“Huh? They don’t all start with D.”

“Those things all do. Dinosaurs, dogs, dumplings–”

“No they don’t,” Kija huffed. “Stop saying that!”

“But they do. Each of those words begins with–”

He clamped his hands to his ears and shouted, “Stop! You don’t know that!”

Yoongi let out a deep sigh and began trying to mop Joo up.

“More,” she demanded.

“No.”

“Ice cream for din-din. More please.”

“No– shit, it is almost dinner time,” he mumbled. Normally dinner was his part of the managed schedule so it wasn’t like him to forget it, but with you gone, the whole schedule was harder to maintain. The hours dragged on but then a whole afternoon passed and he hadn’t gotten anything done. It felt like you’d been gone for days; your absence was so achingly loud in a house never silent thanks to the two children. They hadn’t slept well last night with you gone, and neither had Yoongi; tonight would probably be the same, and tummies full of nothing but ice cream wouldn’t help.

“I know all the letters,” Kija muttered. He dragged his fingers through a splash of chocolate ice cream on the white counter. “I know them more than you.”

Yoongi shrugged, “I’m a lot older so it’s normal that I know more about reading and writing. But you know more than me about dinosaurs and Pokemon.”

“Yeah you don’t even know the difference between Dodrio and Diglett.”

“Don’t they both have three heads?”

“Well…” Kija’s eyes narrowed like he suddenly suspected Yoongi was hiding some vast Pokemon knowledge. He was not. That was basically the only thing he knew. “Yes,” Kija admitted.

“So am I a Poke-Champ now?” He knew it was Master but he liked seeing Kija’s eyes light up to correct him. He didn’t usually play that kind of game with Kija, he was direct and honest with his son, but he felt like Kija could use the confidence boost right now.

“Appa carrots please?” Joo demanded, resting her sticky fingers on Yoongi’s arm.

“You want carrots now?”

Joo nodded and smiled. He glanced at the clock and understood this was dinner for real now. Might as well ply them with carrots and yogurt and anything else he could get them to eat after ice cream.

Kija had clammed up again but Joo chatted happily enough for them both as Yoongi chopped up fruits and vegetables, microwaved some rice, and reheated yesterday’s noodles. As the kids picked at the offerings, he realized he’d forgotten to take their lunches out of their backpacks after picking them up from school and hurried to do that before he forgot again and had to deal with a gross surprise in the morning when it was time to repack.

In pulling Kija’s bento out, he noticed a couple papers crumpled at the bottom of the backpack, like they’d been shoved in and then forgotten. Sometimes Kija brought home drawings and he got upset if they got wrinkled like that; many times now you’d carefully smoothed them out, even painstakingly ironed one when Kija sobbed that it was ruined by the creases.

Kija felt things so big. He stayed out of sight so as not to set Kija off again if these were precious crumbled art. Yoongi felt so inadequate as a father when Kija felt things so big; it wasn’t that his own feelings were never big, but that his expression of them was so different than his son’s. Joo seemed to handle things more like him. He felt like he disappointed Kija sometimes when he wasn’t dancing and leaping with him, and like he failed him when he couldn’t comfort during his worst moods. He was trying harder to do both… at least Joo thought his attempts at dancing when Kija beat a level in his video game were funny. Kija had just thought he was mocking him and you had needed to smooth it over.

Yoongi flattened the first paper and surveyed the cartoonish ice cream cone with big sparkly eyes. The second was a drawing of… things. Yoongi had no clue what, all very boxy, lots of lines, but he got the impression they were things –robots or Pokemon or animals he couldn’t recognize.

The third was a writing sheet, a printed template that said “Daily Journal” at the top. Kija had written his name and the date, both shaky and clunky. The prompt was “I am good at ________.”

And in the space left to write, twenty lines meant to contain Kija’s little boy pride in all the things he was good at, his son had written only: i am thee fort fast runer in my klas.

Yoongi studied that response for a moment. Kija was good at lots of things. Up until recently, Kija would have been all too eager to tell you all the things he was good at, true or not! But when given the opportunity to brag or even lie, he’d written so little..

Yoongi carried the paper over and asked, “Kija, what is this?” Kija glanced at the paper and said nothing. “This is what you meant by a Daily, right? Why do you have only one thing listed here? What about all the other things you are good at?” Kija rested his chin on the table and wouldn’t look at Yoongi. Joo thought this was funny and started to giggle until Kija shouted at her, then she turned to tears.

“Do not yell at your sister. No one deserves to get yelled at ever. Only yell if someone is in danger, right?”

Kija suddenly lunged and took the paper from Yoongi. He slid from the stool and began to crumple it again, clearly headed for the trashcan. Yoongi let him do it. He leaned against the counter where the kids ate and waited until Kija came back, dusting his hands like a job well done.

“Why did you throw it away?”

“Because it’s bad.”

“What’s bad about it?”

“It’s not even true,” Kija told him. “Logan, Nolan, Kasi, Do, Win, and Iseul are all faster than me so that means I’m not even number six.”

“So what?”

Kija glared at him like he just didn’t understand.

“You don’t have to be the best to be good at something,” Yoongi corrected, recognizing this as a big teaching moment. “Who cares how good other people are? Don’t get into the habit of comparing yourself to other people. Just look at yourself and all that you accomplish.” Kija leaned his cheek in his hand and stabbed his chopsticks into his rice. “We’re going to make a new list,” Yoongi decided, going for the notepad you kept by the fridge for making shopping lists. He brought it back with a pen and set it on the table.

Kija just stared.

“You can name some things you’re good at.”

“Kiki is good at stories!” Joo offered.

“Yes. And you’re good at helping with your little sister,” Yoongi nodded. He wrote these down. “You’re good at drawing and at helping me pick out the best fruit at the market.”

“Those are dumb things.”

“They aren’t dumb. You are good at being a friend, you know all the things your friends like and don’t like. You are good at throwing a ball with Uncle Taehyung, right? He said you were good at it.” Yoongi could see none of these things were making Kija feel even a little better though. “What’s going on? What are you thinking about all this?”

Apparently it was the right question.

“I’m not good at writing the words so it doesn’t matter,” Kija insisted. “And at math class the numbers don’t stay the same in my head.”

“What do you mean, they don’t stay the same?”

“I can’t remember the numbers and what they do and I don’t remember all the sounds the letters can make either so I’m basically dumb.”

“You aren’t dumb.”

“I am dumb,” Kija insisted.

“You are six years old, it’s not possible for you to be dumb because you aren’t supposed to know anything yet. You’re just supposed to be learning.”

“Everyone else learns faster than me.”

“It’s not a race–”

“Everyone else gets papers on the Daily Wall but not me and I don’t get smiley faces on my Dailies.”

Yoongi paused and really took in the serious things his son was telling him. Joo got quiet too, looking between them. He understood. Boy, did he understand the feeling of failure when your papers came back red. He remembered what it was like when he stopped trying in school because then it didn’t hurt so bad when he failed. He remembered what it was like thinking he was stupid too, when in reality he just hadn’t found his place yet. Once he was free of school and the pressure was gone, he learned more easily, and he always had his music skill and passion to lean on.

“There are lots of ways to be smart and school is only one way,” Yoongi told him. Six was too young to already be worried. He deserved smiley faces on his papers, even if they weren’t quite right, even if it was just a smiley face for trying. “Do you remember how happy you were when you started reading stories to me and Joo at bedtime?”

“Yeah…” Kija admitted. “But I just memorized them.”

“So what? That is a very smart thing to do.”

“It’s not the same as reading.”

“No, it’s not, but that doesn’t make it worse. Memorizing things is a very hard thing to do too. So how about after dinner we read that book again, but I’ll read it slowly to you and you can practice memorizing it. Then you can read it to Eomma when she gets home.”

“But I won’t be reading it.”

“It still counts,” Yoongi assured him. “She’ll be so impressed and you like to do that, don’t you? Tell us stories?”

“Yes.”

“Then it doesn’t matter, it’s ok to do things just because you enjoy them. I enjoy when you read to us, no matter how slow you need to take to sound the words out. I’m not in a rush.”

“Me too!” Joo added. “I am not russ too.”

Kija smiled at her, “Rush, not russ. Shhhh.’” He reached out and brushed a few grains of rice off his sister’s cheek. “She’s cute but she’s not very good at feeding herself yet.”

“Well she’s two. And you’re six. You learn things when you learn them.”

“How old are you?”

“It’s not important.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t remember. When you get to be as old as me, it’s hard to remember what the number is.”

“Oh.” Kija gave him a gentle look. “You don’t count very good, huh? Only music counting?”

Yoongi snorted, “I like math more now that I’m not in school. In school it was hard when the teachers wanted me to do things fast but I needed more time… so if that’s how you feel, you’re just like me that way too.”

“Oh.” Kija watched Joo fondly for a moment and Yoongi figured he was about to learn something new about dinosaurs, that Kija’s mind had already slipped onto more enjoyable thoughts. Instead he said after a moment, “I guess I’m good at being like my appa.”

“Yeah.”

“Everyone always says Joo is more like you but maybe I can be good at being like you too.”

“You want to be?” Yoongi couldn’t help himself asking. It was so damn flattering.

“Yeah but I like being like eomma too.”

“It’s like I said, you can be good at lots of things. Just like you’re good at being just yourself, not like anyone else in the world.” Yoongi nodded and smiled and felt slightly more competent as a father for just one brief moment. It was wild to realize his parents must have had these same thoughts. They’d been such adults to him when he was Kija’s age and yet they’d been even younger than he was now. At what point did you become the competent adult your six-year-old thought you were?

“The first dinosaur ever was named the eoraptor,” Kija told him, interrupting his thoughts. “It means ‘dawn stealer.’”

“Did it wake up early every day?”

Kija rolled his eyes, “No, appa, because it was the dawn of the dinosaurs, get it? It was the size of a dog. I think we should get a dog and name it Eoraptor.”

“Isn’t it too much like Eomma? She might get jealous.”

“Ok we can name a dog something else,” Kija grinned.

“I didn’t say we could get a dog.”

“I’m telling eomma you said we could get a dog.”

Joo sighed loudly, “I want a cat.”

“We have a cat.”

“More cat!” she cheered.

“I’m telling Eomma you said yes and then she’ll never want to leave us again.”

“We’re enough to bring her back,” Yoongi assured them both. “Let’s just show her how well we can do things even when she’s gone so she knows we were all really good at taking care of each other. Who’s going to help me wash the dishes?”

Both kids wanted to, a pleasant surprise. They behaved for a bath and got to watch a few cartoons after you called to say goodnight so Yoongi could have a moment longer with you. He decided not to mention yet Kija’s school frustration –not that you didn’t know, you were such an attentive parent, but that maybe it was worth looking into. Was he too young, would it add pressure, would it make Kija feel like some possible diagnosis defined him? Yoongi had never been diagnosed with anything and he’d made it through and found his way in life. But damn, he’d been miserable for a lot of years. He didn’t know if there was other help available for him at the time, if his parents could have done more than they did… Maybe he could do better both at helping Kija know school didn’t define him and getting him whatever extra help he needed to feel supported…

He wouldn’t put that on you right now, not when this was such a short time for you to try and catch a break from round-the-clock parenting. For now he just showed off that he and the kids were doing well, proud they were both freshly scrubbed in the video call. He made sure to angle the camera so you wouldn’t see the parts of the house he hadn’t managed to tidy yet. It was hard being down his partner, but he was glad you could get the break.

Snuggled down in bed all together, Yoongi read books slowly so Kija could read closely along with him. He’d never felt like he had a great reading voice, he read in fits and starts, so it was better for him to take his time anyway. Kija read the last book, an old favorite he had already memorized, while Yoongi pointed at the words as Kija said them.

Once Kija fell asleep, curled up with the book he’d been struggling with earlier, Yoongi carried him to his own bed. Joo proved more challenging, waking as soon as Yoongi lifted her. He knew he ought to have put them in their own beds to start, but hey, he was lonely with you gone too. So he let Joo stay in his bed after all. And when Kija came tip-toeing back in an hour later, while Yoongi was still checking the final emails on his phone, he welcomed him back and let him stay. He didn’t make it through the emails. Instead he sent you an email with nothing but a heart emoji in it. It was simple, but it would make you smile. You never seemed to mind when his affection was simple.

You had now been gone for thirty-two of the fifty-four hours.

Yoongi had never missed you more.

But at least he had two little pieces of you to sleep sprawled across him, just like you would have if you were here.

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