#if someone calls this cheesy i will delete :>

[wltsquareih]

Having to say goodbye ~

(The music I was listening kinda sent me into autopilot???)

[deepmochi]

SYNASTRY: Venus in the houses (7th-12th) part 2

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Note: Honestly, I had a draft for the 2nd part, but probably I deleted by mistake, or tumblr did it (idk). Maybe, That's why I thought I already posted the 2nd part, but I was wrong.

Part 1 🩷

♡ Venus in the 7th house ♡

These couple usually views commitment as all or nothing, are you in or not? They have strong values about true love, and they will follow them. Love is viewed as a contract by their souls or hearts. If they break any aspect proposed, they know it's the end. They can be reflections of themselves either the good or the bad. When the contract is done, it's over. The Venusian sees the house person as a very stable being. They feel safe and prepared for them. These two may live together before the year of knowing each other romantically. The pair just feel ready when it's about commitment. The house natives perceive the Venusian as very "wife/husband" material for them. With this overlay, their personalities blend well and work together. It feels natural for both of you to be close and intimate together. For others is moving too fast, and for them is easy to become intimate with each other. The seventh house person fits well for the planet native. These two feel like it's a soulmate connection, very easy. You’re both drawn to please each other. It's a very strong connection for long-term relationships. It takes time for them to move on if they ever break up. If Venus has bad aspects, it can be a toxic relationship. The reason for this, it's that they prefer to stay together instead of being alone or start something new. Intimate gesture like hugs and someone hand guiding the other. Cooking dates and going out at night the most. "Here, I bought this?";morning texts: " how are you today? My day...." "Can I call you, I miss your voice"; " My mom ask if we can go to her party?" ; "we should go to that restaurant"; Formal clothes; "hey, look me, they don't know how worthy you are". They like to spend time with people they love. Balance. If Venus cooks today, the house will do it tomorrow. Wearing nice clothes and a good perfume to impress the other. Compliments and physical touches, especially kisses in the cheek. Cheesy things like love letters. Having "the song" or the place.

♡ Venus in the 8th house ♡

These two have a different kind of love. The Venusian feels like the house person bring something in them that they can explain. Sometimes, these people have taboos to share. Death has impact their lives. The house person may become obssess with the planet person. Sex isn't a way emerger together. Usually, they possess the same interest in taboo topics. In the beginning, Venus feels attracted to the house, but it's also scared of them. Their sexual energy is intense. The 8th house person wants to know the Venusian's secrets and fears. Both are possessive, but the house win the round. They detest when their partner don't respect them. Their relationship status will remain a secret for the public eye (in the beginning). They would share many things even traumas (if hardly aspected). The house native will protect the Planet from the world. Sex can be very intimate or aggressive (bsdm stuff). These people will not be the same they were when they met. For them, love is intense and transformational. The house feels that the Venus native is trustworthy, but they need to see their actions. Holding hands during intimate times. During sex they will talk and have intense stares. "I don't like that person, be aware of them", "Here, use this for yourself"; "if you need money, just let me know"; "don't lie to me, I know you are sad"; his/her hand on your thing while eyes are on the road; taking notes of your gestures. They have weird hobbies together and enjoy dark humor too. Moonlight sex and long sessions.

♡ Venus in the 9th house♡

These individuals perceive love as a new adventure and try to go with the flow. If they're mature, they prefer to maintain a very healthy relationship. Both prefer to travel and know about new places and cultures. Love is not as other say. They may prefer to do things their way. Venusian isn't instantly involve, but they see the house as interesting. For the house native, the planet is nice an attractive, but they will not force things. The house native could be older than the Venusian. The house person likes the planet manners and life vision the most. They see the commitment as an experience. Sometimes, marriage isn't obligatory requirement. They may enjoy walks, museum, and play board games. One could be from another country or have a different culture. Their relationship presents a new chapter in their lives and their families. Besides, they like to engage in intellectual debates, maybe they are into philosophy. If they broke up, they will try to be professional or move on. They can meet later in life after maturing. It's likely that you will work together or in the same environment. Having a child or more is possible, so use protection. "Look at here, we can travel here"; "aww, baby, you were right they declare that"; ["I really want to buy that book" / "baby, you have that book already"]; Saving for vacations; buying each other souvenirs or antique objects as gifts; reading books and doing small debates about it; *knowing each other during trips, universities, conferences, cultural events, and religious activities" Buying new book editions. They love to try new foods or learn about new places together. They could meet while traveling or in college.

♡ Venus in the 10th house♡

Coworkers to lover vibes. They are comfy with being mature. Similarly to the previous combo, the house partner is the older one or has more experience. This partner also has more dominant energy. They could meet in different levels. The negative aspect is that they could be very nitpicking and too logical when it comes to love. The planet individual sees the house person as straightforward and mature. Partnership is very important; it's like a contract. If one of the part broke a part of the deal, it's done. They can work together or met during college (last year), conference or work related things. They are straightforward and mature when approaching the other. If badly aspect it, they have an issue with power imbalance (not good at all). Big egos over emotions, this is the start of arguments. They plan their dates. The planet person accepts that the house individual cares for their image and professional life. The Venusian isn't afraid of being a home stayed wife. Here the Venusian knows and appreciates the house efforts to balance their stability. Nonetheless, the house person must value the venusian support. Doing plans after they leave the work; caring for the other in profesional settings; making food or leaving notes in the stuff *you can do it* in their computer. Making each other feel valuable "Here, i make you favorite food"; let's celebrate your new position"; *making time to luch together*; naming the other whenever they can "I'm grateful for my wife meals and support"; giving gifts and showing their s/o in public. Even thought people think they aren't super romantic, they will try to match things. It could be rings, watches or wearing the same brand. Looking good.

♡ Venus in the 11th house♡

Love depicts a friend to lover storyline where both care for dreams and humanity. It's very possible that they met when they were helping other people. The Venusian fits the house's ideal type. They seem more friendlier than other couples. You wouldn't think they were dating at first. They prefer to joke around, but they love each other. The Venusian share the dreams the house native have for life. It's also likely that they like each other in the future, even if they met since birth. They prefer to have experience with love before settling down. Its common to see them as "I thought they were only friends". The Venusian sees the house person as humanitarian, reliable and interesting. Stay protected because big family can be a thing. Moreover, the must clarify about what is a family. The house perceives the planet native as beautiful and too much to some people. Together, they will form a very unique pair and family. Regardless Venusian feel the planet as hopeful person. The eleventh house person sees a future with the venusian because they feel understood. Love for the house is independent, and the venusian can see this as as a relief. Making fun of the other in a non hurtful way. "I can't deal with you right now *kiss them*"; "Alexa plays titanic's song" *grabs the venusian and starts dancing*; *hugs their s/o when they're cooking*; being romantic when they're alone; sending spicy texts "come home, I'm ready"; talking about the future; matching devices or wallpapers; a lot of trust, they share passwords. Having the same or similar friends. They like to help other people. Donating for other people as a hobby or helping to people who need. Dates in the nature. Cleaning beaches, rivers or places.

♡ Venus in the 12th house♡

Love is simple but blurry. They can't get confused in how they love. The house sees the Venusian see them as the real deal. The planet perceive the house native as too good for them. There are some blurry aspects that they don't understand. When this synastry happens, it can feel too blurry for outsiders. Sometimes, they feel as friends and others as partners. At times, they hide their feelings without realizing or because they don't want to hurt the other. The house may hide their crush for the planet (too well). The Venus feel like the house person hides things for them. The house native don't want to bother the venusian. The house wants to give all they have to the venusian without having a concrete reason (maybe they are friends, but they are their #1 friend). This connection feel very special even divinely guided. The house is very observant with the Venusian Different backgrounds, it's possible that the house person has faith or not. One (usually the venusian) is more intuitive. Venus comes to open the house's eyes to other knowledge. The house will do all they can, so the venusian is happy. They can be soulmates (even non platonic). On the negative side, they don't have good communication because they avoid confronting each other. Both have experience paranormal activity, but only one believes more. The Venus person will try to invite the house to their home (pure opening of their soul). The Venusian can be quite delulu, but the house see it as funny or special. They met when something is ending for the Venusian. Romantic times, home dates, asking the other about things or traumas carefully, a special vibe around them. *Big smiles and shiny eyes*, "I buy you this; you tell me two months ago around 9pm" "aww thank you", "are you sleeping well?" - "yes" , *astrology or tarot talks* "can you give your birth time?" - "12:34 am" " it was bad?" "No, we match". Talk about paranormal activities like any other topic, special dates, random celebrations, secret spots, discreet dates, spirtual conection, they may understand the other, but can't explain it.

Take what resonates only. 💚

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Hi hi hope I'm not too late to request something. If I am feel free to just delete this

Anyway can I ask for headcannons with a gender neutral reader with Sebek, Vil, Idia, and Leona with a s/o who loves to use cheesy pick up lines on them after they've started dating? Like they're already dating and their partner comes up to them like "Do you have a name or can I just call you mine" lol

Idia Shroud:

Some cheesy lines just get Idia to roll his eyes, knowing you’re purposely trying to get a reaction out of him, but some do manage to get exactly what you want. Hearing a genuine declaration of love, a confirmation that your souls are tired, and you compared him to an angel (your angel, specifically), he can feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He normally spiraled from embarrassment after, trying to hide the pink tips of his hair before you waved the victory flag right in his face, rejecting the fact that such normie pick-up lines could be super effective on someone like him.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona wants to know what he did to you to subject him to the horror of pick-up lines when you already had to get through the hurdles all couples had at the beginning of a relationship. He could be surprisingly smooth himself when he wanted to, delivering the lines straight back at you as if it were a competition. He wanted to out-woo you and if that didn’t work; he wasn’t above fighting dirty. He knew the exact glint you got in your eyes when you were about to drop a new line and he acted first, smothering your lips with his own to successfully wipe your mind of anything but responding to his touch.

Sebek Zigvolt:

You have a 50/50 chance of it going right over Sebek’s head, or it piercing his heart like an arrow when he fully understood the meaning of your honeyed words. Pick-up lines weren’t effective for wooing him but they did provide you with a source of entertainment, especially when Sebek responded with genuine concern as to what must be wrong with your eyesight or if you had really injured yourself looking for him. He seemed a little frazzled when you stated you were just flirting with him, wondering why you felt the need to steal his heart when he had already offered it to you without pretense.

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil would show respect for a well-crafted yet still cheesy pick-up line, as long as it met his expectations. He judged based on word choice and confidence in your delivery, giving you a rating for each line in hopes of you finding a line to truly sweep him off his feet. He is still hopelessly endeared by your silly behavior, his heart nearly skipping a beat when you explained your reasoning for this to him. People were naturally too intimidated by Vil to flirt properly, so you thought he deserved the normalcy of, even if for only a short amount of time (and from someone he was already romantically involved with).

[qveerthe0ry]

Lions Ain't the Kind - Part One

Summary: Frankie hasn't dated in years, but now he knows what he's looking for. He's just not so good at asking for what he wants, and you're willing to help him work on it. Word Count: 8,156 Pairing: Frankie Morales x NB/Gender-fluid! AFAB! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, subby!Frankie, soft dom! reader, talks about gender non-conformity, sickening fluff, Frankie is way too cute and sweet for his own good, kissing, making out, handjob (m receiving), anal fingering (m receiving), dirty talk, Frankie has a praise kink, no use of y/n, no physical descriptions of reader Beta: @perotovar (my angel ilysm) A/N: Sorry for talking about this for a month straight without posting it lol! The title is from the song (Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear by Elvis Presley which I admittedly haven't listened to but I saw the lyrics and knew immediately it was my Frankie. I hope you enjoy, and I'm always open to criticism and thoughts and thots!

Frankie hasn’t dated in years. He hasn’t really had the time, between his first child being born and navigating co-parenting with his ex, along with healing some very deep trauma and getting and staying clean. 

It just hasn’t been on his mind, if he’s honest. He’s been busy finding himself, as Pope calls it. And he’s not wrong. It’s taken a long while for him to be comfortable in his own skin, to come to terms with the things he’s done and the baggage he can now store in an overhead bin, rather than carry it around with him at all times. 

But now, he’s ready. He knows himself, and as a result, he knows what he’s looking for.

Someone kind-hearted and down to earth. Someone who’s independent and established, but not just looking for a hookup. Someone with a sweet smile and a desire for enjoying the little things in life. 

Someone like you. 

He’d swiped right and left dozens of times on men and women alike, but as soon as he saw your profile on whatever dating app he’d downloaded, he was hooked.

You were gorgeous. He felt the heat from your smile through his phone screen, so happy and genuine and sweet.

You were funny, the answers to those weird icebreaker questions full of witty remarks.

You were smart, clearly, from your shoutout to your alma matter and the ‘boring’ job you mentioned in your profile.

He honestly figured he had no chance at all. His face is only getting more wrinkly, and his hair more gray, and he’s never been the sharpest or funniest guy in the room. 

So when he swiped left and you matched, he was stunned. He was even more shocked when you messaged him before he could even think of what to say to you. 

Hi cutie 🥰 

Despite the fact that he was home alone on his couch, he had the sudden urge to look behind him, as if you’d be talking to someone else. The back of his neck got so warm, and your boldness only made him more into you. 

So he messaged you back

Hi :) how are you?

I’m surprised we matched, honestly. Pleasantly surprised 😊

Same here :) Why the surprise though? I’m sure you match with everyone

Not at all, it’s hard to find people whose type I am on here. I usually use the queer dating apps but I opened this one out of boredom. What are the chances?

What are the chances, indeed, Frankie thinks, as he gives your profile another look over. Frankie doesn’t understand how you aren’t everyone’s type. He feels a little bit like he’s talking to a celebrity, looking at your pictures and just a snippet of who you are on this reductive dating app. 

I like the odds :)

——

As your conversation continues normally over the next few days, Frankie learns a lot about you. He also learns a lot about himself. 

It’s been so long since he’s played the field, so to speak, that he’s rusty as all hell and a bit awkward. He’s afraid to flirt too much, every message deleted and re-written at the risk of sounding too cheesy or too forward or too much. 

You aren’t afraid to flirt. You send ‘good morning, handsome’ and ‘sweet dreams, pretty boy’ texts every day and night. You tell him your day would be better if you could cuddle someone, you tell him when you’re taking a relaxing bath that you wished he were there to join you. 

And to say that Frankie likes it is a massive fucking understatement. 

He adores it, he thinks about you constantly, all day long while he works without access to his phone, all evening long while he waits on your replies, all night long, when you’ve bid each other goodnight out of nothing but courtesy for each other’s sleep schedules.

You lead him along like a timid puppy on a leash, showing him new things with patience and care and it drives him insane. He wants to meet up with you so bad, or even just call you on the phone to hear your voice. He thinks about it, late at night, if it’s higher or lower in register, if it’s smooth or raspy. He wants to learn everything about you. 

That being said, he’s not sure if he’s ever met someone who’s ‘non-binary/gender-fluid’ before. He doesn’t get out much, he hardly talks to anyone who he hasn’t known for years. 

So he googles. It doesn’t really help. He understands what it means, but he doesn’t know what it means to you. He wants to ask you a million questions, but is afraid to bring up even one, and ruin the moment, or sound like an idiot. 

You’re so kind though. So he bites the bullet. 

Can I ask you a question?

Your response comes almost immediately, now that it’s evening time, both finished with dinner— his takeout vs. your leftover spaghetti. 

Of course, pretty boy ❤️

He still flushes deep when you call him that, heat spreading all throughout his face and neck and chest. 

How did you know you were non-binary/ gender-fluid? 

He frets over the text a bunch before he sends it, making sure he worded it the same way you did in your profile. His heart pounds as he waits for your response. 

I’ve always just kind of known I didn’t feel like a man or a woman. I used to think everyone felt somewhere in between, and it was just normal to not feel like I checked either box, but then I realized no one else around me felt the way I did. And then I learned all the terms and whatnot, later on, and knew that’s what I am. Just kinda in between, neither and both, sometimes one and sometimes the other. If that makes sense?

His smile splits his cheeks as he reads your in-depth response, eating up every bit of information you’re willing to give him. 

That makes perfect sense to me. Thank you for sharing :) 

It doesn’t scare you off?

Frankie scoffs, as if anything about you could scare him off. At this point, you could show up on his doorstep with a dead body in a bag, and he’d throw it in his trunk, dispose of it, and then ask if he could maybe kiss you.

Not at all. Nothing about you scares me :)

——

It’s a few more days before Frankie works up the courage to ask for your phone number. You tell him you were wondering when he was going to finally ask for it. It makes him itchy to think about you waiting for him to ask, making him be the one to do it. In a good way. In a way that kind of makes him stiffen up in his briefs if he thinks about it for too long.

But now, as he settles in from a long day at work, his grin splits his face from ear to ear as he reads your text.

Can I take you out tomorrow night?

He likes it… a lot. He feels so fucking new to all this, like a fumbling newborn calf taking its first steps, and how forward you are eases him so thoroughly.

I’d love that :)

Meet me here at 5 for dinner. Casual dress, but I’m sure you’ll be handsome in anything 😘

It’s the longest 22 hours of his life, and it’s the shortest, all at the same time. Texting you, making funny jokes like his bones aren’t about to creep right out from under his skin with all the nerves buzzing his body. Thinking about you, dreaming about you, one right after the other. When he wakes in the morning it’s like he didn’t get a wink of sleep, his anxiety drumming up a million different scenarios of how it could go right and wrong. 

Calling Santi mid-morning on a Saturday when he knows he’s spending time with his family, because if he doesn’t talk to someone about this he may just float off into the ether. 

“I’m so fucking nervous, Pope, what do I do? How do I act? Can you just stake out at the bar and feed me lines through an earpiece?”

“Pendejo, fucking— grow a pair man. You’re cute and funny, you’ve got this.”

Reading your texts with pupils shaped like hearts:

I can’t wait to see you tonight, cutie ❤️

and 

I finally settled on an outfit

and

Is it weird that I’m not even nervous? I’m just excited to finally meet you

It is weird, Frankie thinks, but doesn’t dare tell you. It’s weird how he can’t even eat the plain toast he made for lunch without feeling bile rise in the back of his throat, and you’re just excited. It’s weird how he’s never, ever felt so gone over someone, and you haven’t even met yet. 

It’s not weird, it’s sweet :) I’m excited too <3

It’s not a lie, but he’s omitting the truth a bit. He’s excited but he’s nervous, picking meticulously through his closet to find something casual but not too casual, something he likes the look of himself in, something he thinks you’ll like the look of. 

It only gets worse as he stares at google maps. The restaurant is 2.6 miles away, 11 minutes from his house. It’s 4:30, and he wants to leave already, but thinks maybe it’s better to deal with the anxiety in the comfort of his home rather than the parking lot, in case you’re there early too, and you can see how much of a fucking wreck he is. 

He watches the minutes tick up in the corner of his phone screen. At 4:36, he gets up, fusses in the mirror one last time, and leaves. 

When he parks in the lot in front of the bar & grill, you’ve already texted him. 

I’m here a little early, got all green lights. Saved us a table near the back. See you soon!

It’s 4:52. 

He takes a deep breath through his nose, closes his eyes as he lets it out gently, counting just like his therapist taught him. And again. And one more time, and finally that anxious tingling in his fingertips is muted a bit and his heart rate is only slightly above normal. 

4:54.

He pulls the key from the ignition, gets out of the car, and makes his way to the door. 

He finds you instantly. 

You’re looking at him, and you’re smiling, and getting up from your chair as he approaches you. He barely even hears you greet him with all his blood rushing in his ears. 

“Hi, Frankie,” you say, and your arms stretch out to invite him in for a hug. 

He melts into your arms, his strained “hi” muffled in the crook of your neck. You squeeze him tight to you, and he hears you chuckle next to his ear. 

“Knew you’d be even cuter in person.”

He huffs out a laugh as you release him, and the tips of his ears burn. But you’re smiling so sweetly at him that it eases his nervous bones. 

“You look— can I call you handsome?” 

Fuck, he thinks, so fucking awkward. 

But your grin gets even wider. 

“Only if you mean it.” 

“I do,” he sighs, “like straight out of the cologne ads I’d rip out of my older sister’s magazines.”

He holds his breath as you react, the flutter of your eyelashes and the quivering of your lips and your laugh, bubbly and bright and soothing. 

And he isn’t lying, not even a little. You’re rugged but soft, romantic and alluring, and he can’t take his eyes off you.

Even as you take your seats across from each other, and the waiter comes to take your drink orders, and as your gorgeous eyes flit across the pages of the menu. He can’t stop looking, watching your mouth curve into a smile as you talk about your week and ask him about his. 

It’s pathetic, really, when the waiter asks if you’re ready to order, and you ask if he knows what he wants, because he hasn’t taken a single glance at the menu himself. He just hopes to god the dim lighting of the bar hides his flushed face and tells you to order first while he skims the menu. 

He ends up ordering exactly what you got, and floundering when your hand finds his on the tabletop. He watches your fingers trace his own from his nails to his knuckles, and flips his palm up for you to rest your hand in his. 

“I’m glad you came out with me tonight,” you tell him. 

His eyes flicker up from your joined hands to your smiling face, and his nerves completely melt away from the heat of your gaze. 

“Thank you for asking me,” he says.

“Would you have asked me, if I hadn’t asked you?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, and there’s a teasing glint in your eyes. 

“Eventually,” he nods, “I mean… probably.” 

Your eyebrows turn up in question, and he realizes how that sounds, jumping to backtrack. 

“Not like that! I just mean— You know… You’re uh… well, I feel like you’re way out of my league. And so maybe I’m a little… intimidated.”

You smile, then, and sigh, and squeeze his hand as you call him a sweet boy. It makes the room feel like it’s a hundred degrees warmer, like Frankie’s clothes are suddenly two sizes too small. 

“You aren’t so good at asking for what you want, are you?” 

He laughs then, and shakes his head. 

“Not really, no.”

“We’ll have to work on that, then.”

He clears his throat, and tugs at his collar with his free hand, breaking his gaze away from your face as you chuckle. He looks to find a waiter, or maybe an HVAC guy that could crank the AC to sub-zero temps for the remainder of the date. 

No luck. 

The rest of the date goes well. Surprisingly well. Frankie was worried that he’d be so out of practice that he’d freeze up, or say something stupid, or do something stupid, like knock over a drink or get food stuck in his teeth. 

But you’re just so easy to talk to, to click with. Of course, you’re the one who facilitates the conversation, asking him about his favorites— movies, TV shows, music, time of year. 

But he likes to think that he keeps the ball rolling well enough, is aware enough to remember to ask for some of your favorites— holiday, food, cocktails. 

By the time the check comes, he hardly realizes you’ve both had empty plates in front of you for a while, talking and laughing through your meals like you’re just catching up with an old friend. 

He protests when you grab the check, because of course he does. You’ve given him this incredible night, your comfortable company, your sweet smiles, and he feels like his offerings pale in comparison. 

“I asked you out, Francisco,” you tease him, having just learned his full name a mere 20 minutes ago. 

And he can’t really protest anymore, what with the shiver that’s tingling his spine and the goosebumps he tries to hide by gripping the chair underneath him. So he lets you pay, and thanks the waiter, and feels a rush of sadness when they come back with the check to sign. He really doesn’t want this evening to end. 

The apprehension falls second to the sensation of your hand on the small of his back, leading him out to the parking lot. 

“Where’s your car? I’ll walk you there,” you say, your thumb pressing a soothing circle into the base of his spine. 

So he walks to his truck, a little self-conscious about the out-of-dateness of it, and how he didn’t think to run it through a car wash before this. But mostly he’s just nervous about ending this date on a good note. 

“This is me,” he says, barely above a whisper, stopping at his driver’s side door. 

You smile at him when he turns to you. 

“Thanks again for coming out with me. I really did have a great time.”

This makes him smile through the unease, even as your hand drops from the small of his back. 

“I did too. Would you uh… wanna hang out again soon?”

Your face lights up, and Frankie wants to capture it in a bottle and take it home with him. Keep it at his bedside to use as a nightlight.

“Are you asking me on a date?” 

He chuckles and looks down to his feet like maybe it’ll redirect the flush in his face. You grab his hand, hanging by his side, and luckily you don’t make him speak again because he doesn’t know if he’s even able. 

“I’d love to. Really.” 

He smiles when he looks back up at you, only briefly, because you drop his hand and take a half step back. 

“Call me about it.”

“Wait!”

Your brow arches at him, because you weren’t really going anywhere, but Frankie’s mind is running a thousand miles a second. He thinks back to all the times you’ve goaded him into asking for what he wants, so far, and how it hasn’t bit him in the rear yet. 

“Can we— I… Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Your smile softens, and you take that little half-step back closer to him, and he feels all the tension leak from his shoulders. 

“Yes, you can. Thank you for asking.”

He huffs, and smiles at you, and you’re reaching out to cup his jaw and grab his hip, and Frankie closes his eyes far too early, but it’s okay, because he feels your body heat and then your lips. 

He can’t hold back the hum that rumbles from deep in his chest, or the way that he goes a little boneless in your grasp. He finds your forearm and squeezes it, and your bicep too, anything to ground himself as your lips part and your tongue teases the seam of his lips. 

But then you’re pulling back, and it’s over far too quickly, and Frankie is also acutely aware of how tight his jeans feel. His face feels like it could melt right off of his skull. 

“Call me soon, Pretty Boy.”

He nods, speechless, and watches you disappear between the cars of the parking lot. On his way home, he’s already fretting over whether or not he should text you tonight, and what kind of date he should plan, and if his breath was okay when you let him kiss you. 

——

Frankie is perfect. 

You’re still not sure how you found this diamond in the rough that is Tinder. You thank every god you know the name of that you got bored and opened the app on auto-pilot that night. 

First of all, he’s so cute. He’s handsome in such a boyish way, with his dimples and unruly curls and patchy beard. 

But he’s also so kind, the way he talks to you like it’s a privilege, the way he asks careful and curious questions about you like he truly wants to know the parts of you that are deeper than what’s on the surface. 

Every simple text from him makes you smile, the way he always tries to make you laugh or cheer you up when you’re overwhelmed with the demands of life, as you often are.

And meeting him in person solidified everything you thought about him.

He seems like the textbook definition of a golden retriever boyfriend, if you ever get to call him that much. You hope you do.

In fact, it seems like it’s moving quite quickly in that direction when Frankie asks if you’d be down for a movie night. Some blockbuster he missed in theaters is finally streaming, and he thinks you’ll like it. 

You don’t tell him that you didn’t miss it in theaters, or that you thought it was just okay. 

You do tell him you’d be down to watch it, only if he came to your place, where the walls are thin and your surrounding neighbors all know you and watch out for you. Just in case he’s really good at acting  like a sweet, safe guy. 

You find yourself giddy as the weekend approaches, daydreaming at work about how the night will turn out. You tell him to come in comfy clothes, because you’ll be damned if you wear jeans in your own home, even for this sweet man. He doesn’t seem to mind one bit, that’s my favorite kind of outfit :) is his cute response. 

You get everything ready the day of; your coziest blankets hang off the arms of your sofa, your fridge is stocked with fresh fruits and your pantry with candy and microwave popcorn and chips (I’ll eat whatever you get :) his answer to your questioning of his favorite movie snacks, of course.)

And then you sit around and wait, excited nerves coaxing your body to straighten things up that have been straightened up a million times already. When Frankie texts you his ETA, you park yourself on the couch by the door and stare at it until there’s a knock on it. 

You may count to ten before you get up to open it, just to hide how eager you’ve been to see him again. 

Your throat does get a little dry when you answer it to find him in a dark blue t-shirt that hugs his arms and light gray joggers that hug… Other things. 

“Hi handsome,” you smile, pushing down all the nerves and the less-than-PG thoughts. 

“Hi. I um… I brought these. I noticed you ordered them on our uh– well, at the restaurant, and I didn’t want to show up empty handed.” 

You watch a flush break out on his face, and his neck, and wonder how far under his collar it actually spreads. 

He’s holding up a six pack of your favorite beers, and he’s smiling so shyly, and you have to crowd in closer to him to press a kiss to his heated cheek. 

“That’s so thoughtful, thank you.” 

He giggles— giggles, Jesus Christ— and you take them from his hand to let him come through the door. 

You set the beers in your fridge to let them chill as he kicks off his shoes. You watch him from the kitchen as he takes in your place with his pretty brown eyes. 

“It’s really cozy in here,” he tells you as he fiddles with his own hands. 

“Snuggle up, get comfy, I’ll bring us some snacks.”

He nods, so obedient, and hovers by the couch before settling on the seat in the middle. 

Sly move, you think, and you can’t hide your stupid grin as you gather some snacks. 

When you turn off all but one lamp and deposit the junk food on the coffee table, you notice he’s inched himself closer to the arm of the couch, like he was second-guessing himself. That just won’t do, you think, as you settle in right next to him, so close that the length of your body is pressed against his. 

He doesn’t look at you, just stares at the Roku City scrolling across your flat screen. For a second you think he might be uncomfortable, but the way his breathing is uneven clues you in on his nerves. 

You reach over him to grab the blanket in the arm of the couch, and you feel his muscles tense up when you press against him. 

“Frankie?” 

“Huh? Sorry, yeah?” 

“Are you okay?” 

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head and sighs, heavy and long, before looking at you.

“I’m so nervous.”

He smiles in spite of it, lopsided, dimples so cute that your lips quiver with the urge to kiss them. 

You smile back, and drape the blanket over both of you, patting his leg through it. 

“Nothing to be nervous about, Francisco.”

It gets a laugh out of him, a huff through his nose, and his shoulders lower the tiniest bit. You slowly reach up to cradle his jaw in your palm, careful not to spook this little baby deer of a man, but his face leans into your touch. 

“If it helps, I think it’s really sweet that you’re nervous.” 

“Thank you… I think?”

You laugh at him, and watch as your reaction makes his eyes brighten. You want to kiss him. You want to smooch the absolute daylights out of him, but there’s still 3 hours of a pretentious movie to watch, and there will be plenty of time, if he’s amenable. 

So you just pinch his cheek before you let go, and try not to look so smug at the heat that consumes his face as you get the movie up and running. 

Fifteen or so minutes into the film, Frankie has relaxed into the couch, though he’s stock-still beside you with his arms glued to his own sides. You just want to cuddle, at least. You’ve been thinking about it for weeks— getting his warm, solid but soft body against your own. 

You’re certain he won’t be the one to initiate it, but that’s all fine and dandy. You rearrange yourself a bit, and sling an arm over his shoulders. He looks away from the movie towards you, and you give him a smile that must be comforting. 

He sinks lower on the couch, and leans against you, his messy curls pressed against your shoulder while his arm drapes over your lap. You think you hear his satisfied hum under the dialogue of the characters, and you let your head rest against his. 

This is nice. Frankie’s so warm against you, the most comforting weight all lax against your side. Your hand creeps up from his shoulder to his head, and his hair is so silky when you finally work up the gall to run your fingers through it.

You can feel the way it affects him when he shivers and presses even closer into you. You watch the movie like that for a while, snacks untouched, fingertips stroking his scalp as his soft curls slip through your digits. Every once in a while his head tilts to look up at you, piercing brown, and each time you smile back down and ruffle his hair.

It’s just after the first big conflict of the film when you feel Frankie shift against you. His arm moves in your lap, and you watch his thick fingers grab your thigh over the blanket. 

It shocks you how such a simple gesture makes your temperature rise. You hum and let your nails scratch more firmly against his head. You can hear him gasp, and feel him move impossibly closer, like he’s trying to fuse the two of you together. You glance down at him, past the curls you’ve lost yourself in, and his eyes are closed. Further, the curve of his nose and pout of his lips, his chest that’s heaving with his excited breaths, you notice a suspicious tent in the blanket, and you don’t want to assume, but the context clues are all there. 

Frankie is hard. 

You can’t blame him. You’ve been aroused since you pressed his body against yours, a slow simmering underneath the surface that’s made you feel so comfortably warm and relaxed. 

You shift, and you swear you hear a barely-there whine leave his lips. You move just enough so you can press your free hand to his chest. Under your palm, you can feel his heart beating, a pace that’s concerningly higher than appropriate for sitting and watching dialogue in a movie. 

His head turns toward you, his hair slipping through the grasp of your knuckles. He looks up at you with those puppy eyes and his pupils are so dilated that it makes you take a deep breath. He turns his body  toward you next and there it is the hard line of his cock pressed against the outside of your thigh. You see him shudder at the friction, watch his eyes grow droopy as they flicker down to glance at your lips. 

“Can I kiss you again?” 

And he asks so sweetly, voice a little hoarse from the silence, that you couldn’t dream of denying him. 

“Yes, Frankie.”

His lips tremble until they meet yours, so soft and chaste, a stark contrast to his scruffy beard and mustache. His breath hitches; you can hear it and feel it. His chest shudders under your palm and pushes air out to gust against your cheeks. You feel his prick, too, twitching against your thigh as your tongue peeks out to tease his pouty bottom lip. 

He pulls back so much quicker than you want him to, but it’s also such a reward to look at him this close. His lips shiny, his cheeks flushed, his irises completely usurped by his pupils. His mouth hangs open and you can’t help yourself as you slide your hand from his chest to his jaw and pull him into you once again. 

A surprised little noise works its way out of his throat, and his hips jerk forward, and then he’s groaning as his cock throbs against the outside of your thigh. The noise makes that feeling in your gut draw deeper, lower, and you make one of your own in response. 

His hand rests dutifully still on your thigh, but you can feel his fingers twitching as your taste buds rub against his– a friction that has no right to be as delicious as it is. You want him to feel you up, to touch you all over, to give in to the desire that’s blatantly pressed against you. You want to hear these noises he seems to be holding back, the whimpers that just barely make it past his vocal chords before he cuts them off. 

You pull away this time. Pride swells in your chest as you look at what you’ve already done to him. His curls are even messier now that you’ve run your fingers through them over and over. His eyes are all glassy when he looks at you, pouty lips slick and red. 

He sits so still, aside from his heaving breaths, like he’s waiting for your command. 

“Tell me what you want, Frankie.”

His eyes widen and christ, if they get any wider they’re going to suck you in like a supermassive black hole. 

“I– I’m okay, I like this.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He nods, trying to convince you, as he not-so-subtly pulls his erection free from its trap between his body and your thigh. His eyes cast downward, but you swiftly grab his chin in your hands to bring them back to you. 

“Francisco,” you mumble, “ask for what you want.”

He gasps and bites his plush bottom lip, hard enough that there’s little indents when he opens his mouth. He shuts it again, and squirms against you, and finally opens it once more. 

“I want you to touch me.” 

His request comes out hardly above a whisper, all broken and breathy, and his gaze settles somewhere behind you. 

“Is that all?”

He nods quickly, eyes snapping back to you. 

“I swear– I just wanna feel your hands on me.” 

Your smile widens as his face gets so serious, eyebrows knitting together. 

“That’s good, that’s really good,” you mumble. 

The shudder that visibly rolls through him is like a shockwave, sending every one of your nerve endings on-edge. You huff, an amazed little breath at this fucking guy in front of you, so responsive and timid and utterly fuckable. 

“You like that? Like being good for me?”

He nods again, more apprehensive this time, but he can’t hold back his whine when his hips press against you. The possibilities of all the things you could do to this man stretch far and wide; it’s entirely overwhelming. 

“Sweet boy,” you whisper, because he is, “c’mere.”

You pull the blanket off of you both, and Frankie reaches down to adjust himself so it isn’t so obvious, like you haven’t felt his cock twitching against you this entire time. It’s so endearing you think you could cry, but you’re much too turned on for sentiment at the moment. Instead, you guide him to straddle you, hands on his slender hips until his thighs cage your own. 

For a moment you just watch as he sits patiently, obediently, waiting for your next words like his cock isn’t leaking a pretty little damp patch into his sweatpants. His chest heaves with every breath, and his tongue licks and bites at his swollen lips, and his eyes stay trained on your mouth in anticipation. 

“So pretty,” you whisper. 

His long eyelashes flutter at your compliment, and he turns his head to try and hide his reaction, but it doesn’t mask the way his prick twitches under gray fabric. Your hands find his waistband and tease the edge and you delight in the way he shivers. 

You need to feel more, so you press your hands under his shirt and hum at what you find. A soft tummy and smooth skin that makes way for a small trail of wiry hairs. It’s all revealed to you a moment later when you hike his shirt higher, reach for pecs that are more solid than you imagined, and the smallest nipples you think you’ve ever had your hands on. 

You look back up to his face for permission with a quirked brow, and he nods eagerly, grabbing the back of his collar to shed the material and bare himself and it’s so lovely. There’s so much tan skin, hardly any of it is obstructed by hair, just the errant freckle here or there. And you can’t help it, you have to lean forward and take one of his nipples into your mouth. 

He gasps your name, but one of his hands finds the back of your head to keep you in place. You hum around the little nub, so small you have trouble getting your teeth to bite down on it, but you do and then he groans, his hips jerking in your hold on them. 

“Is this how you wanted me to touch you?”

You lean your head back to look him in the eyes, to watch a pained expression flit over his face as he tries to come up with an answer he thinks you’ll like. 

“I like this too,” he nods, “but I, um… fuck–”

He cuts himself off to hide his face in his hands. He is so cute and so sexy at the same time, it’s making your brain go haywire. 

“Tell me, Frankie. Be good for me, Pretty Boy.” 

He shifts on top of you as he looks up at your ceiling. You soothe your hands up and down his flanks and wait patiently for him to find the words. 

He drops his hand from his face, fists clenching down by his sides, but he finally looks down at you and smiles, shy and sweet, just a hint of that dimple you adore rearing its head.

“Touch my cock? You got me so hard.”

You smile bright at his request, and nod, and press a kiss to his sternum. 

“Anything you want,” you mumble, “just gotta ask. Just like that.”

He looks pretty proud of himself. There’s a twinkle in his eyes as you look up at him, and you take a playful bite of his skin and savor the gasp it coaxes out of him. 

“Let’s get these off, yeah?” 

Your fingers sneak under his waistband and his skin is so hot under there, searing. You only have a few moments to bask in the warmth before he stands up to remove his pants and briefs in one bashful move. 

Jesus. 

He’s so gorgeous, bare for you, vulnerable, excited. His foreskin is all pulled back, revealing a delicious looking string of pre-cum from his slit. You desperately want to lean forward and taste— but he didn’t ask for that, and you won’t give it to him unless he does. 

Stunned a bit silent, you pat your lap, urging him to settle back over it. Much to your delight, he does, quick and obedient. An approving hum bubbles up out of your chest, and he preens as he sits on your thighs. 

There’s a very wicked feeling in you as you stare at him, completely naked, while you haven’t shed a single layer of clothing. Control, and trust, and power. It’s overwhelming in a way that makes your lungs feel too inflated for your rib cage, to know you could take advantage of it, and to know you never ever would. 

“Good boy,” you whisper, finally, testing those waters. 

Frankie’s dick twitches between you two, and you huff and smile and wonder how something so perfect and precious has literally landed right in your lap. 

He’s been more than good, and so with one hand you grab his hip to steady him, and the other takes his cock as gentle as ever. A sharp inhale inflates his chest as you stroke the smooth skin, a teasing, feather-light touch that makes his legs tense up in your lap. You watch him disappear and reappear through the loose circle of your hand, watch another clear droplet bead from his slit when you squeeze him tighter. 

“Does this feel good?”

He’s watching your hand work when you look back up to his face. He nods, a jerky movement that seems to shake his entire body, and he’s so on-edge. You feel it in the way he shifts his weight on top of you. 

“Words, Frankie,” you urge, a soft smile on your face. 

“So good.”

You hum, taking in the way his eyes flutter open and closed, the way his adam’s apple pokes out when he leans his head back. 

You reward him by speeding up your strokes. You squeeze his hip with your free hand, kneading at the soft flesh there, while you lean forward to press kisses into his virtually hairless chest. His skin is so hot it feels like it could burn you, flushed such a pretty color, just like you knew it would be. 

He whines when you gather up more pre cum with your thumb and gently massage it into his frenulum. You look up to find him staring down at you with glassy eyes, bottom lip tucked tight between his teeth. 

“Can we kiss more?”

His voice is breathy, and you nod, and a fresh wave of arousal flushed through your system when his lips eagerly meet yours. 

It’s sloppier, this time. Noisier, too, as you tighten your grip on his cock and begin to properly work your hand up and down his length. You steal his breath and his noises straight from his lungs, feel every shudder he pushes out when you twist your wrist just right or squeeze tighter. 

His hips start to meet your thrusts, rutting into your hand, such a desperate little thing on top of you, all for you. You want to encourage him to take his pleasure from you, and so you slip your hand back from his waist, find the perfectly pert globe of his ass with your palm. 

“Haa— shit.”

His words muffle into your kiss as his hips stutter in rhythm and you lean forward to smirk into the bald patch of his beard. 

“Yeah?” 

A gasp wrecks through his heaving chest as he nods. 

“Please, fuck— please.”

You hum into his jaw and squeeze his cock and his ass respectively. 

“Please what, Pretty Boy?” 

He leans back. You watch him squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head from left to right. 

“Tell me what you want, Frankie. Know you can.” 

A big gulp of air, and then he opens his eyes to look at you, then blinks them shut again as his head lolls back in his shoulders. 

“Touch me there. I— I can’t—”

“Shhh,” you take mercy on him, bringing your hand up from his backside to cradle his jaw in your palm. He tilts his head into your touch and opens his eyes.

“I got you, sweet boy,” you remind him. 

He nods in understanding, shifting to kiss the heel of your palm. You let him rest his lips there as he catches his breath, feel them quivering every other upstroke of your hand on his prick. 

But as he makes to move, you hold his jaw steady in your hand. His eyes flicker back to your face, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, if he can tell how beside yourself you really are. 

Slowly, so he can pull away if he wants, you trace the pad of your middle finger along the seam of his lips. You’re awestruck at how they instantly fall open for you, greedy, something you’re definitely looking forward to exploring more later. 

For now, you watch with hooded eyes as he takes it into his mouth, tongue curling and lapping at it. You briefly wonder if fingers are erogenous zones, beyond turned on at how warm and wet the inside of his mouth feels, how he suckles and releases, bobs his head over and over until you snap out of it. 

“Good boy. Fucking perfect,” you sigh.

He gets a cocky little goofy grin on his face at the praise, but his prick twitches against your grasp. You squeeze it for good measure, and more of his pre-cum dribbles over your knuckles. 

You lean into him again, and he leans into you, holding each other up. Your mouth finds his pebbled nipple once again as his prick drags across your shirt and saturates it. He hisses at the friction, then gasps when your hand grabs his ass cheek again. 

You pull it as best as you can with one hand. It isn’t too difficult with how it fits so perfectly round in your palm. You squeeze it, massage it, note how the littlest hint of peach fuzz feels against your clammy hand. You wonder how it would feel under your tongue, too, how it would taste, how the fatty flesh would feel between your teeth. 

His hips stutter forward when your finger, slick with his saliva, strokes the very top of his crack. And you don’t mean to tease too much, but his jerky movements and satisfied sounds when you do are like music to your ears. 

Finally you find his hole, fluttering around nothing, so little and tight, all for you. 

“Ohmygod.”

Frankie sounds pained, so much so that you look up from nuzzling his chest to watch his face. His brows are drawn tight with how his eyes are squeezed shut, and his mouth is hung open, slick with a little drool around the corners of his lips. Without context, maybe he would look pained, too, but the way his cock throbs and dribbles in your hand paints a completely different picture. 

And what a pretty picture he is, gulping for air above you, thrusting his hips back into your finger and forward through your fist, like he’s so out of his mind that he can’t even make it up. 

You apply more pressure to his impossibly tight pucker and sink your teeth into his skin at the way he whines for you. You do it again, and again, a patient little rhythm until it relaxes and the very tip of your finger slips into his warmth. 

He groans, clenching tight around you. 

“Okay, Frankie?”

He laughs, a little puff of air, and you feel it where you’re inside him. 

“Gonna make me come,” he chokes.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, don’t— fuck— please don’t stop.”

You hum into his chest, squeeze your hand tighter around his prick as you speed up your strokes. He’s groaning now, deep and low and constant, like he couldn’t hold it back if he tried. 

You wiggle your finger against his rim, tugging him open for you, toying with the elastic muscle. He’s so pliable everywhere, opening up to you, happily taking what you give him. 

In a stiff moment you think he isn’t into it, because he freezes up and goes silent. You make to slip out of him, but his warmth just drags you in.

And then his cock jumps in your grasp, and his hole clamps around your finger as he gasps your name, and he’s coming. 

He shakes with it as he soaks your shirt and drips over your hand. You stroke him through it and marvel at the way he feels in your grasp and around you, violent waves of pleasure that you can sense where you touch him. 

You look up to watch him tremble through it and he’s gorgeous. Sweat drips from his messy curls at his temple and paints a glimmer down his neck, all pulled taught as his head hangs back. His chest tastes salty under your tongue where it heaves, you can’t get enough of the flavor, or the wicked beating of his heart under your lips. 

And his noises, fucking delicious, wrung-out curses that just keep tumbling from his red lips. His stomach trembles with his shaky breaths, and he sounds so wrecked as the last bit of his orgasm tricked down the back of your hand. 

His whispered chants of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” slow to a stop just as his joints unlock and his muscles relax. You take it as a sign to loosen your grip on his spent cock and carefully slip your finger back out of him. It earns you one last whimper before he sags into you, a boneless little heap in your lap. 

You unhand him to hold him against you, wipe your hand on the discarded blanket beside you so you can stroke his back with one hand and his fuzzy little buttcheek with the other. 

You tell him how good he was for you, how pretty he is when he comes, how much you loved getting to do that to him. 

It takes a while for him to catch his breath, and his huffs tickle that sensitive spot on your neck just below your ear. 

“Holy shit,” he sighs. 

You nod, because he’s correct. Holy shit, indeed. 

His voice is a little hoarse, and you’re conflicted. You want to hold him as long as he’ll let you, but you know you should get him some water and at least a towel. 

You shift under him and he whimpers, wraps his arms tighter around your shoulders.

There goes that idea. 

You hold him closer, and smirk at the contented sigh that leaves him. 

“I think… I think I just imprinted on you.” 

It startles a laugh out of you, and he chuckles too, a tiny happy sound against your collar bone. You turn to kiss his heated cheek, and he lets you, before he turns his own head to fuse his lips to yours. 

This kiss is lazy, unhurried, and the adrenaline from making him fall apart is slowly making way for more of that sticky-sweet arousal from earlier. 

“I wanna make you come,” he mumbles against your lips. 

You shake your head, but kiss him some more, as to not give him the wrong idea. 

“Another night, Pretty Boy.”

He makes a disappointed sound, but continues to kiss you until you have to part for air. His brow is turned upward in question when you pull away. 

“Did I do something wrong?”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes his question. 

“Not a single thing, Frankie. Just wanted to take care of you tonight.” 

His shoulders relax at that, but his face is still confused. It’s a cute look on him, with his pouty lips and big brown eyes. 

“You’d tell me right? If I made you uncomfortable? You can tell me. I don’t wanna upset you.” 

And christ, you feel your heart melting and oozing through your rib cage at how earnest his voice is. 

“I promise, I’ll tell you.”

That seems to quell his nerves, as he sinks back into you again with his sweaty curls pressed against your shoulder. 

You’re sticky in more ways than one, and Frankie’s only getting heavier in your lap the sleepier he gets, but a giggle bubbles up out of you when you realize you’ve never been more comfortable than you are right now. 

Frankie huffs in response, and you press him even tighter against you. 

You don’t know where one-and-a-half dates and one sickeningly hot orgasm places the two of you. And maybe it’s greedy to think about with a handsome, sweet man in your arms, but you can’t push down the overwhelming feeling of wanting more.

next part

[olderthannetfic]

Have you ever gotten really into the source material of something where the adaption(s) are more popular and well-known and you have to grapple with the eternal headache of finding the adaptations lacklustre or outright antithetical to the source?

The anime adaption of my favourite manga is significantly better known than the manga itself outside of Japan. The anime rewrote almost every core relationship and character arc. It's been a trying experience looking for fellow fans. The fanfiction scene for it is so horrific I've given up.

The anime turned a girl who is stoic and distrustful and keeps her distance from a male character because she's afraid of him (and thinks he is manipulating the girl she likes) until he demonstrates he actually can be trusted into... A tsundere thing where she bullies him constantly and he belittles her back.

I need someone to understand the headache I've endured of people calling the ship problematic when the source material is about the two of them learning to trust each other and be more honest about their respective traumas. It hurts, OTNF.

I have learned the hard way that explaining the source material to those people will accomplish nothing. I imagine a lot of book fans endure this fairly frequently...

--

Ahaha. Yeah, adaptation wank usually boils down to this. Ditto reboot wank.

I don't think I have any fandoms where... Oh! I lie!

Lady Audley's Secret

That absolutely foul movie version that is the only recent adaptation should be ashamed of itself. Swapping the blonde and the brunette in a story where those things are integral to how they're being read by other characters? Adding cheesy modern feminism to a story that had 19thC feminism while deleting the best female character and making the awesome villainess into a wimpy victim? Removing all of the hoyay and the 19thC incest vibes? Giving it a weird and depressing ending? WHAT ARE YOU DOING???

But I'm honestly usually not that bothered. I liked the live action Yu Yu Hakusho. I thought the changes to Onmyoji made for The Yin-Yang Master: Dream of Eternity were interesting. I liked that Sherlock Holmes movie everyone hates that starts with Rupert Everett in an opium den.

[writeyouin]

Can i request reader and mtmte skids spending time together at swerves, with the conversation going to bad pick up lines. Skids takes it as a challenge and what starts off as cheesy pick up lines devolves into smooth come ons that has Reader flushing like mad and badly keeping their composure as Skids tries to figure out what makes them tick. Thanks!!!

Skids X Reader - Pick Me Up and Take Me Home

A/N – So, I wrote this twice because the first copy accidentally got deleted today. Oh well, I’m happy with it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

“Grab your coat, you’ve pulled.”

You looked at the mech addressing you to see if he was telling a joke. One minute, you were sitting peacefully on a barstool at Swerve’s, reading your book (a universal sign of not wanting to be disturbed) then there was this mech, telling you you’d pulled, in a lame attempt to ‘pull’ you himself.

What was his name? Roller? Gearhead? Something else entirely? Honestly, you had no idea. He wasn’t one of your friends aboard the Lost Light. Probably just another mech too curious about sex with a human for all the wrong reasons. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t be intimate with a bot, but to borrow a worn-out phrase, they could at least buy you dinner first.

“No thanks,” You said coolly.

“Sorry, what?”

You sighed and closed your book, swivelling your seat so as to face the offending bot.

“No thank you,” You enunciated the words slowly and loudly.

“But- But Getaway said that would work,” The unnameable bot wheedled. “Was it the pick-up line itself?”

“Honestly, it was a myriad of things,” You replied, irked that you were forced to continue such an inane conversation. “But for the sake of your ego, sure, let’s say it was just the pick-up line. If you knew anything about me, you’d know that that is one of the lines I hate the most. There’s no witty wordplay, it’s grossly presumptuous, and really, it’s just dull, overused, and lazy.”

“Oh…”

“But hey, that’s just my opinion. So, why don’t you go and try it on someone else. Go on, off you pop,” You said nodding your head towards the exit.

The bot lamely left, not even bothering to walk; he used the wheels on his pedes to roll away sadly. You still didn’t know what he was called, but with a depressing exit like that, you decided to nickname him Mopey Joe in lieu of anything better.

Now that you were free, you swivelled your chair back to the bar. You were about to re-open your book, when a voice to your left said, “Were you on Star Trek because someone set their phaser to stunning.”

You glanced at the bot who sat on the corner stool. He had been there all night, reading something on his data pad. You knew his name, even though you had scarcely spoken to him before.

Skids.

He was memorable.

You had seen him around the ship multiple times, always doing something different. He seemed to hold the belief that any skill was worth learning.

“Really? You too?” You asked sardonically, your hand on your cheek. “This another one of your skills, or are you just trying to beat the last guy?”

“Just having some fun is all, unless you’re not up for it,” Skids grinned, an unspoken challenge in his tone.

“I’m up for it if you are,” You perked up, glad to poke fun at the failed flirtation.

“Good, because it’s your turn.”

“If I could rearrange the alphabet-”

“I’d put you and I together,” He finished for you. “A little overused, isn’t it?”

“Just a warm-up,” You said tartly.

“Okay,” Skids stroked his chin, his processor filled to the brim with things he could say. He wanted to win. There was no prize, but life was a game, and he, its champion player. “What’s your favourite number?”

You raised an eyebrow, to which he inclined his head as if suggesting you play along.

“All right, I’ll bite, uh… 42.”

“42? That’s alright, I suppose. My favourite number is yours.”

“Smooth, if the other participant is playing,” You conceded. “Uhh… Okay, I got one. I’ve heard of Optimus Prime, but you hottie, are Optimus Fine.”

“Ooh, your tone really helped carry that one. Suggestive, but not too much, a nice flirty edge. That was good, and well catered to Cybertronians. Impressive.”

And so the game went on. Occasionally one of you would pause to order the other a drink or to ask a general question about each other’s lives.

You learned that Skids was a theoretician, who tended to daydream.

“Was that an electric shock? Nope, just the thrum of my spark when I saw you.”

He, in turn, learned that you enjoyed comic books, films with practical effects, and weren’t sure what job you wanted on the ship; only that you desperately wanted to find some area to work in.

“I didn’t believe in God, but there must be one if someone as stunning as you exists.”

He loved Earth music and had developed a collection since being stationed there years ago.

“Are you secretly a Decepticon? Because you have conned me into loving you.”

He found that you were actually at Swerve’s trying to learn how to adapt to social situations since you usually felt too awkward to enter public spaces.

“I should take up weightlifting. It’ll give me the strength to pick up hot mechs such as yourself.”

He grinned at that. You learned that you adored that smile… and the mech it was on. You memorised it, and the way it lit up his optics.

“Nice legs, what time do they open?”

You sputtered a laugh. He learned that he loved the sound of your laughter like liquid happiness tickling his audials. He recorded the sound.

Finally, Skids looked around, finding that Swerve was grabbing his mop bucket, the subtle sign to any remainers that he was going to shut the bar within the next few kliks.

“Huh, guess we should be going,” Skids noted.

“Yeah…” You murmured, eyes downcast at the thought of parting from Skids, “I suppose we should.”

“Oh, just one more line first, I think I have a winner,” Skids grinned mischievously.

“Yeah? Go on then,” You settled yourself back atop your seat, awaiting the next line to make you chortle.

Skids got down on one knee. Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned close to whisper, his lips gently grazing your earlobe, “What’s bright red and something I like sleeping with?”

“… I- What?” You asked.

He pulled lightly back, then kissed you, just staying long enough to feel you get closer before he pulled back, leaving you longing for more.

“You.”

You reached up to cover your burning cheeks.

“I- I have to go,” You stammered, stumbling off your stool.

Skids smiled as he watched you leave. He was going to call you tomorrow, then every day after that, and never once would he resort to ‘Grab your coat, you’ve pulled.’ You deserved more, and he was happy to provide you with witty wordplay, humour, and romance to boot.

Once more before leaving, he played back the sound of your laughter. Primus, you fascinated him. He planned to do everything he could to find out what made you tick.

[prinvessdior]

Choso hcs for Asmo, expect they’re basically just my thoughts ab him lol

anyways hi Asmo, hope you enjoy lovely 😔😘

(A/n: if you saw me accidentally delete this…. No you didnt)

- honesty I see him as never really being interested/ have a genuine romantic connection with someone but for you Asmo, I will change my mindset

- ok…. bf choso… hmmm

- okay… but I do see him as a hopeless romantic, especially when it comes to taking you to meet his family!

- he doesn’t mind skinship would rather it not be in public though (esp if ur killing ppl… 🤨)

- he will, however link pinkies with you as you both walk, most of the time your dates take place in the evening anyways, so it’s a much better cover for him

- hm, if you both are just starting out your relationship I’d assume he’d be very stand-off-ish, but don’t take it the wrong way! He’s just very nervous, bro goes to the bathroom on a date and sweats, throws up, cries and comes back to give your hand a kiss and apologizing for taking so long

- damn lyna what r you up to

- okok around like 4-6 months id say he’d be confident enough to kiss you, he’s never done it leave him alone 😔

- first kiss was def all messy n shit and yall prob mashed teeth lmfao 😭

- dw though he’s a fast learner and gets the hang of it and now know to rub his hands up n down your back, and holding the back of your head to tilt you up into him better

- sorry ik u said no nsfw but I can’t help myself ☺️

- his phone probably has a lot of fucking cracks lmfaoo

- he has three Polaroid pictures of you in his phone case

- one time he lost two of them n cried ab it for a week

- honestly can’t see him calling you any nicknames expect for just your name shortened or some cheesy shit like my love or my darling yk

- he blushes everytime he calls you an endearing name though

- all in all he’s pretty down bad and sweating everytime ur 3-feet from him

——————————————————————————

tags: @asmobeuses

Dm me to be tagged in fics!

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

illicit affiars | five

*Ellie’s POV* “Do you really not have any Dr. Pepper?” I looked up at Matt, who was digging through my fridge and laughed. We got Chinese takeout on the way back to my place and decided to watch a movie as we ate our food. I couldn’t get Noah off my mind since I left the venue. The whole car ride home I debated texting him, constantly closing and opening our text chain I never bothered to delete. I just wanted to know how he felt, and why he was still wearing the one gift I gave him.

“I guess these will do.” He replied sitting beside me and putting two beers down on the coffee table. “Are you okay after seeing Noah?” “Yeah, I think so.” I lied as I sat crossed legged on my couch, digging into my food. “It was just weird to see him again, especially in his environment.” “I know.” Matt sighed, “I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position.” “Don’t be. I was there for you, not him.” I said as he passed me my beer. I took a long swig before looking over at him again. I had to smile, we picked up right where we left off. “So are you seeing anyone special?” “Nah.” He picked at his food before pushing it away, “I went on a couple dates but it hasn’t been easy finding someone who will understand my schedule. Either that or girls try to get with me to get closer to the band. It’s been hard.” “I’m sorry.” I pouted at him. “I feel like I have to say the best friend thing here and tell you that you’ll find someone eventually.” “I guess it’s not my main focus right now.” He shrugged before drawing his attention back to his food. I watched him for a second, I felt like he was holding back on something. Matt decided to put on some awful romantic comedy as we ate our food to try and forget what happened tonight. We drank more beers and just laughed the entire time as we both made snide remarks. “Why did you make me watch this?” I said as I took a sip of my beer, definitely feeling the buzz since it was my fourth one.

“Because it’s cheesy as hell and it makes me feel like I’d rather be lonely.”

“True, but this shit definitely doesn’t happen in real life. You don’t just live happy ever after and that’s it.” I muttered, also wondering if I’d ever be in love again.

“El, you’re focusing on yourself and Liam, that’s more important than finding someone.” He replies as he grabs my knee. My breath hitched slightly, it had been a while since a man touched me like that.

“I know…I just miss …” I stopped myself before I said something stupid. 

“What?”

I shook my head, taking another sip of my beer, “It’s nothing.” 

“Tell me.” He pleaded, turning his head towards me. 

Looking down at my bottle, I started to pick off the label to avoid Matt’s gaze, “I just miss having sex. I wish I could have it to get it out of my system without all the other bullshit.”

“Like what?”

“I just don’t know if I could actually hook up with someone, it’s not really me. I worry about getting attached, worrying if they’re gonna call me the next day, wondering how many girls they’re talking to. It’s just so tiring.” I stopped and looked at him, his eyes were so intense it was almost intimidating. “I’m sorry I think these beers are catching up to me.”

“Don’t be.” He softly said. “Do you ever think…never mind. 

“What?” 

He took a deep breath, making me scared about what was next. “Would it be weird if we tried the whole friends with benefits thing?” 

“That never works Matthew.” I replied, my nerves got to me and I shot up, walking towards the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. 

“It could, with us.” He says getting off the couch and coming up to me in the kitchen. He was so close to me that I could feel his breath, making me grip the counter behind me. ”We have such good chemistry…so why not add that into the mix?”

“I..uh…I don’t know.” 

“If it’s weird, we can stop and never talk about it again.” he replied cupping the side of my face. I felt my heart beating rapidly in my chest as I looked up at him. His backwards baseball cap was doing something to me, I felt my face getting hot. Actually my whole body was burning up.

“Just one thing.” He nods to let me continue, easily distracting me as he tilted my chin up to him. “Don’t you dare fall in love with me.”

“Don’t count on it, babe” he said before crashing his lips onto mine. It didn’t take much, I was putty in his hands as his tongue begged for an entrance into my mouth. My head was spinning and I forgot about Noah completely. Matt picked me up and put me on my kitchen counter, his hands gripped onto my thighs as the kiss deepened. He pulled away for a moment, studying my face as a soft smile appeared on his face. 

“What?”

“I can’t believe I’m kissing you.” 

I just rolled my eyes, pulling on his shirt to kiss him again. His hands were in my hair, gripping harder the more he kissed me. We stayed like that for a few minutes before I got off the counter and lead him back into my bedroom. Fuck it, maybe he’d make a good rebound, and it’s not like I wasn’t attracted to him. When I first met him I thought he was pretty hot, and with the way he protected me in LA, the attraction came back like a freight train. When we got into my room, he pressed me against the wall as he kissed me with such desperation. He started to get more confident and dominant with me as his hand reached up and clasped my throat, driving me wild. I felt myself getting weaker from his touch and started to guide him towards my bed. I pushed him gently and he fell into a heap onto my bed.

“Come here.” He whispered, offering me his hand. I grabbed it and sat down on his lap. He pushed my hair out of my face and just stared into my eyes. I couldn’t look away either, my thumb grazed his lips, begging for them to be on me again. 

“What is it?”

“You know, since the first day I met you, I wanted to tell you how beautiful you were.” he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist to keep me up. I felt my heart melt from everything, the way he touched me, his words, his sweet smile, all of it. 

“I wonder what would’ve happened if I met you first.” I confessed, catching myself being surprised at my own words. “Maybe I wouldn’t have suffered so much this year.”

“I would’ve never treated you like that…”

I looked at him, placing my hands on his chest, not believing what I was about to say next, “maybe we can get our chance now.”

“So much for friends with benefits.” 

“So much for not falling in love with me.”

“That was probably the biggest lie I’ve ever told.” 

[chickenmanbeloved]

Someone sedate me/j

Since it's been so long since I've played SDV I decided to delete all my saves and restart a blank slate.

So I play modded,, like,,, tons of em but nothing prepared me for this,,

TW Depression and S-IcIdal implied

Im about to SPILL EVERYTHING because my HEART HURTS

So if you're interested (It's gonna be long I'm not kidding) read below this :']

The main mods involved is:

Mobile Phone by Aedenthorn, Shane Dinner date by MissMarlot, and NPC Adventures by PurrplingCat (+ SDV Expanded).

For context: So, summer just started, and Joan is still on year one. She's at full hearts with Shane and only has had the heart events 2 and 4 actually play out. And I decide to have her confess with the bouquet.

So she pulls Shane from work and gifts him a pizza, then they go towards the area above the train tracks (meant to take her to the mountain peak before realizing it was blocked) and she confesses there. ADORABLE reaction from Shane,,, and then later on She takes him on a Hot Air Balloon date (BC IM CHEESY). Wonderful day in general right?

So the day comes to a close and she heads to bed, but before she heads to bed i have her check the weather report, Its going to be storming the next day (And if you shane girlies know,,, that'sss not good given my circumstances)

I use the day to prioritize clearing space on the farm since i dont have to manually water the crops (i have a lot, trustme).

Shane calls Joan and says something along the lines of "Yesterday was great,, it actually made me feel okay. Like things were actually okay" "But it's not okay... why do I have to be like this..." and that's ALL HE SAYS.

I feel bad,, but continue to clear up the farm,,,

TELL ME WHY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO REALIZE IT WAS RAINING???? LIKE,,, RAINING THAT CAN TRIGGER EVENT 6???

I COULDVE IGNORED IT,,, SURE,,, BUT I DIDNT AND I SWEAR I SAT THERE,, FOR TOO LONG BEFORE I REALIZED I DIDNT EVEN PAUSE THE GAME,,, SO JOAN WAS JUST STANDING THERE FUCKING TRAUMATIZED FOR LIKE 6 HOURS IN THE RAIN,,,

BUT ANYWAYS thanks for reading my insane rambling because im hurt,,, have a wonderful day :']

[chocotonez]

blackpink as girlfriends

a/n : stream shut down for clear skin, also warning that there is sorta female-leaning aspects for the reader but no pronouns r dropped!!

genre: hcs, fluff, slight angst if you squint but like you have to squint really really hard

jisoo

-BROOO she’s so <333

-she always has your back, even if she doesn’t make it obvious to everyone around her she’s your #1 supporter

-she’s very realistic and keeps you grounded, but never fails to uplift you when you did good :)

-cheek kisses or just reassuring squeezes of your hand is her go-to PDA, but she gets a little shy if you initiate it

-never ever fails to like your stories/Instagram posts. I also feel like she’s the type to leave you on read but at least thumbs up your message so you don’t feel like she’s ghosting you LMAO

-she’s always on your side (to an extent), if you hate someone, now so does she.

-babies you constantly and loves to see you wearing her clothes, it never fails to make her smile and she just <333 ur so cute and precious to her!!

-always brings two of everything or extra items in case u need something, like chapstick or hand sanitizer or water…

-somehow always there for you in a literal sense, if you text her “jisoo I need you here rn :((“ and she’ll be outside ur window so fast

rose:

-posts u on her story w cute songs and she draws hearts all over your selfies

-intertwines your pinkies when you guys are out together, or your arms get tangled together

-brushes your hair, braids it (if it’s long enough!), styles it, she likes dolling you up

-she loves getting ready with you or doing routines!! like getting dressed or nighttime skincare is 10x more fun with you in her opinion

-she always listens to you, and fully. she’s interested in what you have to say and she likes to show that, she wants you to feel heard in their relationship. she’ll sit down, wrap you both in blankets, cuddle you and hold you close and you can ramble about your day, hobbies, anything you find interesting, etc…

-dad jokes :)

-she tends to be a bit sensitive and is like very empathetic, so if you’re sad, she’s sad, but she wants to help in any way she can

-gets you random gifts she finds from day to day that remind her of you, and loses her shit if you do the same as she just <333 exchanges of similar love languages makes her so happy

-likes to randomly affirm her love for you, like sitting down together on a casual date and she’ll just say she loves you

-because she does and she just wants u to know :(( !!

jennie:

-I HAVE SO MANY TJOUGHTS ABOUT JENNIE 🤧

-ok first off she literally is such a cheesy romantic like, she loves flowers and candle lit dinners and cute gifts on Valentine’s Day and is so whipped if ur willing to indulge in her sappiness

-in return she leaves little things behind, jewelry she thinks you’d like, sticky notes wishing you a nice day, lipstick kisses on your vanity mirror and maybe one on your forehead for when u wake up <333

-can u tell who my bias is yet

-I think she really likes physical touch as a love language but I think she needs words of affirmation and reassurance too

-you 2 just spooning on the couch and then u tell her how amazing she is and she literally just falls in love

-matching outfits, u guys r literally the most fashionable couple

-she spoils you but like…casually, buys your groceries and gas, buys coffee in the morning, small things

-she gets so lovey dovey if u do the same for her :((

-squeezing u tightly if u get her breakfast or even the bare minimum of handing her a water bottle LMAO

lisa:

-ok first of all gift giving is a constant

-from small things to a candle lit dinner at the finest restaurant in town, she’s always got u bbydoll

-likes to call you cheesy/cringe pet names to see your face scrunch up and act all cute

-always has her camera ready to take candid photos of you and says she’ll delete them but that’s the biggest lie in your relationship LMAO

-creative dates >>> cliche

-like,,,just dance or those arcade dance machines and whoever gets the highest score gets to pick what they’re eating for dinner

-sometimes she lets u win but she’ll never say that but u know <333

-ur #1 hype man, always cheering for you and supporting you no matter what bevause THATS HER BABY!!!

-always has to be touching you, like holding your hand or waist, swinging her leg over your’s when ur sitting together, resting her head on your shoulder or interlocking pinkies while you walk around town :((

-she loves you a ton and isn’t afraid to show it!!

[shyvioletcat]

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! It’s my birthday today and my gift to you is this chapter that took me far too long to finish. I really hope you like it and I’m not going to delay any longer. 

~ Made of Ashes Masterlist ~

~~~~~

Rowan’s day started like any other, he got up, checked his emails, got ready for work and ate his breakfast. It wasn’t until he was half way through his cereal that he realised anything out of the ordinary. A notification lit up his phone and he assumed that it was just an email but a quick glance told him it was a text from his mother. He wasn’t one to have a preview on his lock screen, so he unlocked his phone to read it.

Happy Birthday, son. Hope you have a nice and relaxing day. Love, Mum. 

He blinked once, and then remembered that today was, in fact, his birthday. Rowan had forgotten, and he didn’t care. There were other things that needed to be done today instead of acknowledging another year on the earth. Without any effort Rowan sent a simple thank you text back. Today was just another day, there was nothing special about it, nothing to celebrate.

When he got into work Rowan barely looked up from his phone. Partly due to the copious amount of emails in his inbox and partly because he didn’t want to interact with anyone. No one should know about his birthday, he wasn’t exactly the most social being in this office. Essar might, but that came with the inside knowledge of being the head of HR. And they were friendly, but not friends. A casual birthday wish was all Rowan expected of her if he couldn't avoid it. 

So when he walked into his office and there was an obscenely large gift basket sitting on his desk Rowan was taken aback. 

Slipping his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket he approached the desk, circled it while inspecting the gift basket. From the items he could see he could tell this thing wasn’t cheap. The bottle of whiskey in there would have well over a hundred dollars on its own. Rowan stopped by his chair, peering over the layers of clear cellophane for a card. It was tucked under one of the corners of the physical woven basket and he didn’t bother to wait with his suspicions any longer and slid it out from underneath the substantial weight. He tore at the envelope and flipped open the small card. 

For the third time today, his birthday had presented him with yet another surprise. 

Inside the card was an elegant and simple message of birthday well wishes—from his boss. The text was printed so Maeve hadn’t signed it off herself, and Rowan doubted that she had even come up with the words herself they were so generic. Still, she had gone through this much effort to give him a gift. Regardless of whatever thought and effort was put into the obscene jumble of items, Rowan picked up the basket and moved it off his desk to one of the couches in his office. He had work to do, so he would be returning that later. 

Later turned out to be just before close of business. It would be the worst time to carry the thing through the office when everyone was cramming to finish what they could before they were allowed to go home. Instead Rowan waited, using the quiet moment to see to more personal affairs. He pulled out his phone, checking his messages. There was another one from his mother asking about his day, and a text along with a missed call from his father. A few texts from friends, which he took a glance over. He was about to reply when a ding from his computer drew his attention away. Rowan had expected it to be a client or co-worker sending in an email desperately before he became unavailable. But it wasn’t, it was from someone completely unexpected. 

It must have been morbid curiosity that made him click on it. What he should have done was checked in on the small empty box beside it and deleted it. But instead, his mouse found its way onto the subject heading and it opened on his screen. It was just an e-card, outdated and cheesy. But ever since they had started dating she had sent one to him. What had started out as a joke had become a tradition and now Rowan stared at something that had been waiting a full year to be delivered to him. 

The photo was of him and Aelin, taken on his last birthday and he was sure if he looked for some kind of date stamp he’d find that the entire email was created just hours after it was taken. She did it that way so she wouldn’t forget, so that he wouldn’t be forgotten. The irony of it was that she had forgotten, after everything this had slipped her mind and hadn’t been cancelled. 

Rowan couldn’t help it, he stared at the joy on their faces, the way they so easily stood with their bodies so close together. The hand Aelin had on the collar of his jacket was tight and he remembered how she had pulled him in for a kiss with that grip. The joke of the e-card had been how badly it was done, Aelin annually tried her hand at his job, presenting him with a horribly designed card. He worked in advertising, anything he presented to the public was flawless. But with its garish and clashing colours and comic sans font, this was awful. It was the text that drew in his focus now. 

Happiest of Birthdays to you, Buzzard,

Can’t wait to celebrate with you later ;)

I love you, forever and always.

Aelin.

For the first time in a while he felt the weight on his chest that he had worked so hard to remove. He had to tell himself that all this was a reminder of what he’d had, a part of his past and nothing that was part of his future. Not after what Aelin had forced him into. That familiar anger settled on him, something that was so natural to him after these months of silence. With an easy click on the trashcan icon the email was gone. There wouldn’t be another. 

Rowan was officially done with the day and he knew Maeve would be in her office, rarely one to leave early despite her position. So he once again picked up the gift basket, and walked it through the mostly empty office space. No one paid him any attention except Maeve’s secretary when he stopped outside the door. She was new, Rowan hadn’t learnt her name yet. 

“Mr Whitethorn, you can go in,” she said with a trained and pleasant smile. Rowan didn’t return it, he just nodded. 

Maeve was sitting at her desk, glasses on as she annotated whatever she was going over. She didn’t look up until she was ready, always holding the upper hand. When she did glance up she did a double take before she lent back in her chair to see him better. 

“Ah, I see you got my gift,” she said smoothly.

“I did, but I can’t accept it,” Rowan told her, not wanting to draw this out. “It’s too much and I don’t care for my birthday anyway. It’s just another day.” 

“That’s unfortunate.” Maeve didn’t push the matter of the gift, just gestured for him to put it down. Although he didn’t miss what he thought was annoyance flash across her face. “If you won’t accept the gift, can I interest you in dinner instead?” 

Rowan put the ridiculous hamper on one of the chairs by her desk. “Not tonight.” 

“Are you sure? I could get us into Spring Rose, I know the chef,” Maeve persisted.

The name of the restaurant brought him up short. Rowan knew the place, he had taken Aelin there when he’d brought her to visit her parents. She had met him after work, dressed to the nines and beautiful. 

“No,” Rowan said flatly. “Thank you for the offer but I can’t.” 

Maeve laughed humourlessly. “You’ve just told me that you don’t care for your birthday and you’re returning my gift. It’s not likely that you have plans for the evening.” 

She was weaving a web to catch him and right now it was pissing Rowan off. He just wanted to go home and be done with today. “I understand, it’s a generous offer. But not tonight.”

“I might hold you to that,” Maeve said casually. “It's unfortunate that you don’t want the hamper, but I understand. I’ll just have to enjoy it myself.”

Rowan was relieved that she relented, arguing about his boss about his birthday was not something he wished to do. “Goodnight, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Goodbye, Rowan,” was all Maeve said and then she went back to her screens.

He grabbed his things from his office and then he headed for his car, thoughts invading his mind. The email stung in a way Rowan hadn’t expected. It was a reminder to him that he and Aelin had always thought they were in it for the long haul. How wrong they had been. A few messages popped up on his dash, most likely birthday well wishes. Rowan planned to ignore all of those, and just reply to his mother. She didn’t deserve his foul mood. He replied to her on the ride up in the elevator and then threw the phone into his laptop bag with the full intent of not looking at it until tomorrow. 

His apartment seemed quieter than usual, something about his solitude more oppressive. The email had provoked something in him. Rowan began to wonder if Aelin ever thought about him, or if she had to fight so hard to banish him from her thoughts like he had done. Work was his remedy for that, what was Aelin doing to distract herself?

Rowan sighed, going to his fridge and got himself a beer. There was nothing to be done about this, and just like everything else he had done regarding Aelin, he shoved the thoughts over the email out and away. They served no purpose, he didn’t need them. He sat on the couch and reached for the remote, taking a long sip of his beer while the TV booted up. Something mysterious and crime filled would be good to distract him, to give him a good puzzle to solve.

He chose a series he’d heard cursory good reviews about. While the opening credits played he went to the fridge, grabbed out a cold container of pasta and another beer. Rowan made good time, sitting down just and the director’s name faded from the screen. He set his next beer on the low coffee table in front of him and yanked the lid off the container of pasta. It would be better heated up but he just couldn’t be bothered. Reaching for his beer, clinking it against the unopened one, the glass making a sharp ting over the sound of the TV.  

Rowan sighed and took a long swig of his beer before saying, “Happy birthday to me.”  

~~~~~

Leaving the house with a little baby was still such a strange thing. Aelin had done it a few times now, not once by herself, until today. Childbirth had wrecked her more than she had expected and it had taken her longer to recover than she would realise. Elide had tried to warn her—Aelin had been too cocky. She had pretty much spent the first 6 weeks of Elsie’s life in her apartment unless someone came to pick her up or visit, and there had been plenty of visitors to keep her sane. Today at least she had driven by herself, albeit a little slower and a hell of a lot more cautious than she usually would. 

She was meeting Elide, Lorcan and Korbin at the local shopping centre. They had plans to get some lunch and then do some casual shopping. Aelin was running late, but chances were so were they as well. Children tended to cause that. Popping the boot Aelin pulled out the pram and unfolded it with practised ease. Because Aelin had been practising ever since she bought the thing, she had no plans to be fumbling around trying to fold or unfold it in a desperate situation. Flicking on the break, Aelin went to the back door and got Elsie out of her car seat. She was dozing, her brow furrowed like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to be awake or not. 

“Oh, come on little Elsie,” Aelin cooed, scooping the infant out of the car. She went to put Elsie into the pram but as soon as Aelin started to ease the baby onto the padded bassinet she loudly proclaimed her displeasure. “Ok, not doing that then.”

Aelin dropped the nappy bag into the pram instead and rested Elsie on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her beanied head. The pram was easy enough to manoeuvre with one hand—another feature Aelin had tested out. A short walk and an elevator ride later they were in the large courtyard that was surrounded by a variety of restaurants. Aelin’s eyes landed on the Italian place selected for luch, because Korbin’s current favourite food was pasta at the moment. It was across the courtyard through the autumn sunshine. It was a very rare sunny day in late November, by now winter usually had the city in its thrall, but today was very nice. 

When Aelin reached the door of the restaurant a waiter rushed to open the door for her. She nodded her thanks and then looked around for her lunch companions. Korbin gave them away, Aelin heard his loud laugh and then saw his dark head of hair pop up over the booth then quickly disappear again. Whatever game Korbin was playing made Aelin smile and she navigated the pram through the tables. 

“Hey guys,” Aelin said as she got closer. Korbin waved an enthusiastic hello, hyped up on all the activity. 

“You right?” Lorcan asked, starting to rise out of the booth to help as Korbin peered over the seat again. 

Aelin shook her head and flicked on the pram brake. “No, I’m good.”

She slid onto the seat next to Elide, sighing like she’d just been through a whole ordeal instead of walking from the car to the restaurant. 

“Gimme,” Elide held out her hands for the baby.

“Oh, it’s nice to see you too,” Aelin joked but handed the baby over anyway.

Elide grinned, air kissing at Aelin. “You know I love you even more.” With the next sentence her voice changed into baby talk. “This one is just so squishy.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes playfully, because she totally understood where Elide was coming from. Then she turned to the little boy who was trying to climb on his dad's shoulder. “Hey, Korby, look who Mum has.”

Korbin turned, eyes landing on Elide and they all watched as his face morphed into something that could be described as disgust. Lorcan chuckled and Aelin grinned. It was common knowledge that Korbin was not a fan of the new baby, and if the toddler had the capability to hate anything, he hated when Elide held her. 

“You two are not helping,” Elide scolded, rubbing Elsie’s back. “We’re supposed to be encouraging him to like the baby.”

“Ells, he’s nearly two,” Lorcan said. “He’s going to do what he’s going to do.”

“Still,” Elide pressed.

Aelin laughed. “He’ll come around, he doesn’t have a choice. I’m sure they’ll be friends… eventually.”

With the teasing done with, Aelin turned her attention to the menu. By the time they had ordered Elide had gotten Elsie to sleep and was happily holding her until the food arrived. Korbin immediately started eating his nuggets and chips, losing interest in games and the baby. But Elide would need two hands to eat her steak sandwich. Aelin was about to offer to move Elsie to the pram but Lorcan got there first. He leaned over and easily eased the infant over the table, holding her close as he stood up. Very gently he put Elsie down in the pram, taking the time to tuck her in and make sure she was comfortable. It was still odd to see Lorcan be so… soft. Especially when it was somehow related to Aelin. The truce between them that had started on the way to the hospital was still holding strong it seemed. 

The lunch was nice and Elsie blessedly stayed asleep the whole time. With a few interruptions from Korbin, Aelin was able to hold nice and casual adult conversations that didn’t always revolve around the baby. It was nice, it felt like things were getting back to normal. They finished, paid and then headed to the main shopping complex to browse the stores. Women’s clothes didn’t particularly hold Lorcan’s attention so he wandered off, leaving the mothers and children for a bit. 

“This would look fantastic on you,” Elide said, holding up a simple but elegant red dress.

Aelin shrugged. “I’d have nowhere to wear it.”

“Yet,” Elide said pointedly.

“Elide, Elsie is six weeks old. No one is going to be interested in this mess,” Aelin gestured to herself.

The brunette scoffed. “One, you are not a mess.”

“I am,” Aelin countered.

“A hot mess then. And two, I never said anything about a date, you could wear the dress anytime. Sometimes it’s just nice to put clothes on that don’t have stains on them,” Elide explained. “It’s just nice to do something just for you. That’s all.”

Aelin looked at the dress and considered, she even completed trying it on, but then Korbin ran into Elide’s legs a distinct smell following him. 

“Oh, that’s not good,” Elide muttered, taking Korbin’s hand. “Come on, let's get you changed then. Meet you back here?”

“No, I’ll just wait on the seats outside,” Aelin said.

They moved out of the store together, but then Elide hurried away towards the bathrooms. Aelin went to the couches that took up some of the in between spaces in the middle of the different stores. She had just sat down when she heard her own child fussing and pulled the pram close so that she could get Elsie out. Pushing back the visor Aelin saw Elisie’s fists waving around, the rest of her body still tucked securely in the blanket from Lorcan’s efforts. 

“I bet you’re hungry,” Aelin said, and reached down into the nappy bag under the bassinet of the pram. She’d packed a bottle to prepare for this, the thought of feeding in public was a little daunting and Aelin wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to attempt it. Public nudity wasn’t on her list of things to do today. 

Aelin kept sifting blindly through the nappy bag, waiting to feel the smooth lid of the bottle. But she didn’t. As Elsie started to cry louder Aelin pulled the bag into her lap, visibly searching. 

“No,” Aelin hissed. “No, I didn’t…” 

Now she was pulling things out of the bag because she couldn’t believe how she'd forgotten something so essential. While she stared at the wet wipes and extra onesie in her hand and the half empty bag, Elsie decided to start screaming her lungs out with desperate and hungry cries. If that went on any longer Aelin might end up with a boob problem and soak through her shirt triggered by her baby’s needs. Aelin probably had about thirty seconds before this went into a full blown crisis and she might be scared off coming out by herself again. 

The parents' room was all the way at the other end of the shopping mall. It would take her at least 5 minutes to get there, longer if she couldn’t get an elevator. The panic was setting in and if only made Elsie fuss more. Aelin only had one choice. Going on instinct and what was now muscle memory, Aelin cradled Elsie while she unbuttoned the top few buttons on her shirt. There was no time to grab a wrap to drape over herself and she wore a maternity singlet under her blouse so realistically she would barely be exposed. But still her cheeks burned with embarrassment as Elsie sought out her meal. Maybe once she was settled Aelin would be able to grab something. 

As Elsie started to feed Aelin felt her anxiety start to ebb and she sunk into the couch a little more. It was fine, everything was fine, and now Aelin could start to think. Making sure not to disturb her now content daughter, Aelin leaned towards the pram to get the muslin wrap that sat in the bottom basket. It wasn’t easy and leaving Elsie to her task was the main priority. And the little baby did not like the disturbance.

Cheeks burning, Aelin sat back up at the request of the impatient whimpering. It was fine, this was fine. She was just doing what women had been doing for millions of years. There was no reason to be embarrassed. That didn’t stop her shoulders from tightening when she caught an older woman looking at her, disapproval written all over her face and that just transferred to the friend next to her.

Aelin glanced down, feeling so self conscious. She was barely showing any skin, what she wore hid most of it. It wasn’t like she was parading around topless. Her stomach dropped as one of the irritated women started walking over. Mummy blogs were full of horror stories of women breastfeeding in public. Aelin was about to live one.

“Excuse me, sorry,” the woman said, stopping right in front of Aelin. 

Aelin’s voice caught in his throat. “Yes?”

“I would really appreciate it if you covered up.”

And there it was. Aelin tried not to flush, but her cheeks were burning red. “I’m just feeding my baby.”

“I can see that,” the woman’s blue eyes narrowed. “I just don’t think—“

“Is there a problem?”

Aelin hadn’t noticed Lorcan approaching, she had been too focused on the woman intent on embarrassing her. But there he stood, looming over the both of them with his arms crossed, a challenge on his face. Aelin tried not to smile as the unsolicited advice giver blanched a little. 

“I meant no disrespect,” the woman said. “But—”

“Then you’ll have no problem leaving,” Lorcan cut in. 

The woman weighed her options for half a moment and then thankfully left. Aelin let out a nervous laugh mixed with a sigh, and realised there might be tears of relief gathering in her eyes. Lorcan definitely pretended not to notice as he landed on the couch next to her. He kept his arms crossed and the do not approach expression on his face, glaring at anyone who even glanced at Aelin wrong. It was almost comical, and Aelin might had laughed—if her throat would stop feeling so tight. 

“Thank you, Lorcan,” Aelin said eventually. She hated the way her voice shook just a fraction. 

Lorcan shrugged one of his massive shoulders. “Kid’s gotta eat.” 

Then something very weird happened. Lorcan offered his fist for a fist bump. Without hesitation Aelin knocked his knuckles with hers, a new feeling of camaraderie bloomed between them. Lorcan had her back, and it was a strangely comforting feeling. 

It wasn’t long before Elide found them too, by then Elsie was sitting on Aelin’s knee with assistance. Aelin patted the infant’s back, hoping the burp would be more air than vomit. 

“What’s going on here?” Elide asked while Korby ran circles around her knees. 

“Oh, Lorcan’s just defending my honour,” Aelin said.

Elide turned a questioning glance at her husband, he gave her the slightest hint of a smile. “Some people need to pull their heads out of their arses.”

“Ohhh-kay,” Elide said, with no idea of what was happening.

Aelin would have explained further, but Elsie chose just then to burp up half her lunch. Lorcan was there a second later, whipping out a burp cloth from the pram to catch it. 

“Truly my knight in shining armour,” Aelin added, as lightly as she could. This was heading into a new and slightly weird aspect of their relationship.

Aelin knew that Lorcan had taken Rowan’s side in things, he had chosen to tolerate her for so long she really had to commend his dedication to it. When Korbin was born things had gotten better, but she always felt that wall there because he was Rowan’s friend and not her’s. But now, it was almost like they were fringing into the realm of friends. If their general banter was any indication they might already be there.

“Here, let me take her,” Lorcan offered, reaching out for the infant. “Go do your lady stuff or whatever. I’ll take these two to the park.”

With a few extra thank yous Aelin and Elide resumed their shopping expedition. They were in a homewares store when Aelin felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She looked at the notification taking a moment to figure out what it was. It was an email, telling her her e-card had been sent. For a moment Aelin just blinked at it as she remembered exactly what it was. It was Rowan’s birthday and her annual half-assed card she had curated for this year had been sent. 

Aelin hadn’t even realised what the date was, on one hand she had trouble keeping track these days and on the other she really didn’t care anymore. She just hit delete and didn’t bother to give it another thought. Without her making a new for next year the tradition would die. That didn’t matter, she had better things to focus on now. And yet some simmering bitter part of her hoped that Rowan got it. It would be early evening in Doranelle now, maybe it would catch him just before he left for home. Aelin hoped that it would make him think of her and he would regret what he’d so readily thrown away. 

~~~~~

Iris and Evander had told Aelin they would be in Orynth a little over a week. They already had a few things they’d planned to do before the unexpected revelation of an unknown grandchild had disrupted that, and asked if they could fit in seeing Elsie in between. After that first outing in the park and considering how well that went, Aelin agreed. Guilt might have been the main motivator but it was easy enough to see that they were quickly falling in love with their granddaughter. 

The easiest way to sort it all out was for Iris and Evander to drop by the bakery in between galleries and sightseeing. They had done that at least once a day over the past few days, they had even managed it twice yesterday. Iris would send a text and Aelin would bring Elsie out from her office. The little girl was excited to see her new friends and would happily go along with them, leading them to a table, and Aelin would go back to work. That’s where they were now, tucked into one of the tables in the corner out of the way. Today the grandparents had bought Elsie a colouring in pack and she stood on a chair with Evander sitting close by to make sure she didn’t fall as she created whatever her heart desired.  

Aelin watched as she waited for Emrys to finish making her coffee, needing a little buzz as afternoon rolled around. When it was done he pushed it over the counter and nodded to the commotion in the corner. 

“You never did tell me who they were.” 

Aelin cringed. She hadn’t and that may have been a little purposeful.  “Do you remember that guy who came in a while ago and things were a little weird?”  

Emrys hummed as a way of saying yes. 

“He’s Elsie’s father and those two are his parents,” Aelin gestured with a hand to the occupied table. 

Emrys tightened his grip on the dishcloth he held. “I thought you called him an unfeeling and pathetic bastard.”

“I did say that, yes.” That was one of the more tamer things she had called him. 

“And that he was long gone,” Emrys added.

Aelin shrugged at that. “Not as much as I was expecting.” 

“Well, that explains some things,” Emrys said. 

Cringing again, Aelin turned back to where Elsie was holding court. She hadn’t been the best employee over the last few months while she dealt with this situation. She’d been distracted and late or worked from home without much notice. Emrys had never said a thing, probably assuming Elsie was the cause. And she was, just in a roundabout way. 

Untying and dropping his apron on the counter Emrys said, “I should go introduce myself.”

Before Aelin could even think of protesting, Emrys had Iris and Evander’s drinks in hand and took them over to the table. She watched as he approached and once Elsie saw her face lit up in a bright smile and she started showing him all the things she had created. Emrys smiled, fixing one of Elsie’s clips that had come loose, smiling and nodding along. He very much had been something of a surrogate grandfather to the girl, and very protective of the two of them. It was touching that he would be so concerned for them. It just reminded Aelin that Emrys was a good and kind man. 

Emrys introduced himself to the grandparents, shaking hands with both of them. Everyone was all smiles, not that Aelin expected anything less. It was just strange to have the life she had left behind meet up with the one she had forged for herself. Aelin tore her eyes away and ducked behind the counter, picking out a small chocolate tart for herself. Eating behind the counter wasn’t exactly sanitary so she put it on a plate and went to sit down and have a chat with the elder Whitethorns. 

She passed Emrys on the way and he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “They seem nice. They adore little Elsie.” 

Aelin nodded. “They’re good people. And they really do.”

The admission made unexpected emotions surge to the surface. She couldn’t help but feel like she had stolen time from them. They were Elsie’s grandparents, and if these past days were any indication they would have been fantastic grandparents. Iris and Evander had never done anything wrong by Aelin in the time she and Rowan had dated, so had it been wrong to keep Elsie from them?

That was a question that kept hounding her and that she continually ignored. It felt like one that might send her tower toppling. So, once again she did ignore it and worked a conscious smile onto her face. When Aelin sat down at the table it took her daughter a moment to notice that she had, and in fact she noticed the tart first. Elsie’s eyes landed on the chocolatey goodness, then followed the hand up the arm to the face that owned it. 

“Mama!” Elsie said, her face delighted. “I some?”

Aelin’s smile turned genuine and she nodded, scooping up a spoonful of tart to offer it to her daughter. 

“We’re not pulling you away from work, are we?” Iris asked. 

“No, I don’t have anything urgent to get to,” Aelin answered. “I had something to ask you anyway. On Saturday there’s a get together at a park, it’ll be us and the Salvaterres, and my cousin will come too. We get the kids together to play every so often and the weather will start getting too cold soon to take them outside. Anyway… would you like to come?”

Aelin had rambled a little but her thoughts were all a bit jumbled today and she just needed to get the offer out. She had already cleared it with the others, Aedion hadn’t met her maybe would have been in-laws and the perpetual busybody he was, he'd insisted out of curiosity alone. 

“Oh, Saturday?” Evander hedged. 

“Yeah, Saturday,” Aelin confirmed. 

It was Iris who picked up the conversation after that. “We had plans with Rowan on Saturday.”

Aelin was going to drown in the amount of awkwardness that swept over her. “Ah.”

Iris looked at Elsie like she was contemplating something, her lips tight. Aelin just waited, she didn’t want to butt into this situation. She would leave it up to them to make the choice between their granddaughter and their son. That was a choice Aelin had no business interfering with, regardless of what she thought the better decision was.

“Might I suggest something, and I want you to feel no obligation to agree,” Iris said. 

“Of course,” Aelin tried not to let the hesitation she felt into her voice. 

“Would you consider inviting Rowan? I know things are awkward between you, and there’s some tension when you inevitably run into each other,” Iris stated, obviously having been filled in on his side of things. “Might it be good to meet on neutral ground. Have an official introduction of sorts, let Elspeth explore her curiosity with him in an environment that doesn’t encroach on your sanctuary.”

Aelin sat for a moment, just processing Iris’ idea. She had made some valid points. Elsie had a very obvious interest in Rowan, and Aelin had noticed it multiple times. The moment in the bakery most noticeably, it was like she couldn’t keep away when they ended up in the same vicinity. And that was something Aelin didn’t want to look at too closely at—the why of Elsie’s behaviour. If Rowan came there wouldn’t be the pressure of just him and them. There would be other people to buffer interactions and create distance. Iris and Evander would be there, Rowan could be their situation to deal with. And with how gracious they had been over the whole secret grandchild thing… maybe Aelin could allow them this.

“Yeah, okay,” Aelin said at last. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Aelin knew it would be awkward and she would need to do some damage control with Aedion, but this could be the icebreaker that she needed. Probably how the baby shower should have gone if they had been more prepared. In the truth of it, Aelin was losing her fight. The vigilance and the anger was exhausting, and on more than one occasion it was evident that Elsie had been affected by the strain. Maybe a move toward neutrality wasn’t such a bad idea. 

~~~~~

His mother was a saint, or maybe she was just gods blessed. Either way Rowan didn’t know how she’d accomplished it or how he was going to thank her for doing what he couldn’t. As grateful as he was, it didn’t banish the nerves over what was happening today or the situations he’d find himself in. In his mind the whole thing seemed uncomfortable and awkward. What was he supposed to do at a playdate at a children’s playground when he had no children himself? Well, he did. At least biologically.

Aelin would be there, so would the Salvaterres and the Ashryvers apparently. Iris hadn’t mentioned if Aelin’s parents would be coming, but Rowan hoped they weren’t. That would be the one inconvenience that might send him running. His last interaction with Rhoe Galathynius had been tense to say the least and Rowan was not looking to test the limits of that man’s patience again any time soon. 

Rowan had driven his parents to the local playground, the cool early autumn air invading his lungs as he tried to keep his anxiety from showing.  Getting out of the car hadn’t been as ebay as it should have been. 

“Calm down, son,” Iris said to him, squeezing his arm once as they started walking away from the parked car. “Your nerves will do you no good.” 

The playground was fairly busy, but Elspeth was easy to spot. Her curls and bright laughter drew Rowan’s attention immediately. She was being chased by Fenrys who had Korbin on his shoulders. Ruben ran interference to keep Fenrys back so that Elspeth could win whatever game they were playing. It was a sight to see, but it just left Rowan feeling conflicted. Another reminder that he was very much on the outside of this. With a quick glance around it was a relief to see that the elder Galathyniuses were not in attendance, but there was still Aedion to contend with.

“Let’s go and say hello,” Evander said, leading the charge to one of the shaded picnic tables that the group was gathering at. 

“What’s Fenrys doing here?” Iris mused and Rowan stopped short. He was one part of the tale that had been left out. “Aelin never mentioned him coming along, does he have a kid too?”

“Um,” Rowan stammered out. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Then why…” This time his mother stopped, her words trailing off as she watched the scene unfold, looking to where Fenrys had stopped playing with the children and was now wrapping his arms around Aelin. She beamed up and he dropped a kiss onto her cheek. “They’re together.”

The three of them were halted now, still far enough away that they hadn’t been noticed and the hushed circle that was forming wouldn’t seem rude. Iris’ eyes narrowed, suspicion and confusion shining there. Rowan had been there, and imagined he would have looked much the same when he had first spotted the couple in the grocery store. 

“Yeah, they are,” Rowan offered lamely.

Iris gestured in their direction. “You’re okay with this? He was your friend?”

Rowan didn’t think this was the time or place to recount how not okay he was with it, he’d have time to admit his sins later. “I’ve had to accept it.”

Iris shook her head. “What a dick move.”

Any other time Rowan would have laughed at hearing a term like that come from his mother’s mouth, but right now he was too tense.

“Now, we don’t know the circumstances or the reasons,” Evander came in, ever the measured calmness to the tempers of his other family members. “It’s not our business and not why we’re here. So, shall we?”

With a final shake of her head, Iris took the lead this time, Rowan following stiffly behind. It was time to face his fate. 

~~~~~

Aelin tensed as she saw the Whitethorns walking over. It was the moment of truth. Her boyfriend’s arms were still around so he felt the shift in her body language. He peered over her shoulder, obviously having seen who was coming as well, and tilted her head up with his fingers.

“You say the word and I’ll very politely ask them to leave, or just one of them anyway,” Fenrys offered. 

He hadn’t been enthusiastic about the idea of Rowan coming, and it had Aelin explaining it twice for him to come around. Fenrys still wasn’t thrilled, but he trusted her judgement on this. 

“No, it’s fine,” Aelin assured him. “It’s something that needs to be done.”

“Is it?” That comment came from Lysandra who was currently rocking the youngest member of their party. Eamon Salvaterre was very much contentedly asleep.

For all of Fenrys’ understanding Aedion and Lysandra had been doubly opposed. They thought the best course of action was to ignore Rowan completely, even when that was clearly not working. 

“Please try and be at least polite, and Iris and Evander don’t deserve any ill feelings,” Aelin told them. “Just… be nice.”

“You chose to do this in public so we couldn’t cause a scene didn’t you? Smart.” Elide said and Aelin hushed her viciously as the others came into earshot.

“Hello, hello,” Iris said pleasantly. 

Aelin disentangled herself from Fenrys and stepped over to where Iris was standing so that she could introduce everyone. “Hi, Iris. This is my cousin, Aedion, and his wife Lysandra. And this is Elide who married our dear Lorcan, but we have no idea why. Had two of his children too, which is another mystery entirely. Fenrys you know, of course.”

There were waves and hellos exchange, and Aelin noticed Fenrys’ features fall a little when Iris wouldn’t quite meet his eye. Rowan lingered at the back looking so awkward and out of place Aelin almost pitied him. Almost, there was the whole abandonment thing holding back her compassion. 

“Elsie is playing with the other kids, but I’m sure once she sees you she’ll come and say hello,” Aelin said, not sure of what else to do now. 

“Right,” Evander nodded. “Rowan, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Bless Evander and his tact for leading Rowan away, most likely to talk about nothing. It relieved some of the tension but not all of it. Aelin was sure that she wouldn’t relax until she was safe at home again. She looked at the play equipment and saw Korby and Rue helping Elsie across the ropes arranged as a spider’s web. It was quite sweet how those boys doted on her. 

“So, you married Lorcan, did you?” Iris said, starting up a conversation with Elide. 

Aelin felt a tug on her hand, and was being drawn off to the side. It wasn’t a child though. 

“I don’t think Iris is very happy with me,” Fensys whispered. 

“I’m sure you’re imagining it.” Aelin did not sound convincing. 

Her boyfriend sighed. “I’m not sure what I was expecting. I guess Rowan left out the little tidbit about us.”

“Mama!” This time it was a child that took Aelin’s hand. “Mama, not watching.”

“No, sorry, I wasn’t,” Aelin dropped into a crouch, wiping off a smudge of dirt on Elsie’s face. “Did you see that Iris and Evan are here?”

The pigtails on top of her head whipped around as Elsie turned in search of her newest friends. She grinned when she spotted Iris talking to Elide. 

“Wanna go say hi?” Aelin asked.

“Yes, ‘peas,” Elsie said, not waiting for her mother before running for Iris’ legs. Luckily she didn’t collide too hard and Iris just placed a comforting hand on the little girl’s head. 

“You want to do this now?” Fenrys asked as Aelin stood. 

“Might as well.”

There had been extensive conversation about how The Introduction, as they had dubbed it, would go. Aelin wasn’t exactly comfortable sending off Elsie by herself, and on the flip side she also didn’t feel comfortable being the fifth wheel in the situation. Fenrys offered to do it instead, despite the history between him and Rowan. That had mellowed out anyway and the boys would have to be on their best behaviour with Rowan’s parent’s around. It wasn’t a question of trust, Aelin knew Elsie was entirely safe. She just wanted someone who would be wholly on Elsie’s side and be a way out if she needed it. So it was decided Fenrys would do it, keeping his distance and not interfering, but just to keep an eye on things.

Fenrys went over and charmingly sorted out the situation himself, following as Iris took Elsie’s hand and walked towards where Rowan and his father had been waiting. He kept his distance, like he said he would, hands in his pockets as he spoke to both his companions. They reached their destination and Aelin watched it all happen as Rowan crouched down to talk to Elsie. She couldn’t see Elsie’s face, but Rowan’s lit up. He smiled, it looked slightly stunned, but it was there. They talked for a few moments before Korbin darted over, full speed as he used the momentum of coming off the slide to propel himself. He spoke to Elsie, completely ignoring the adults. The little girl at least gave her audience a wave before she ran off as well. 

“I don’t know why you agreed to this.”

Aelin threw a glance over her shoulder and saw Aedion scowling in Rowan’s direction. Out of everyone Aedion had been the most vocal and oppositional to Rowan attending today. Even though Aelin had explained the reasoning for it multiple times and with her cousin being as stubborn as she was, refused to alter his opinion. 

“It’s my business, not yours,” Aelin snapped. 

“Sure, whatever,” Aedion dropped Ruben’s lunchbox on the table and then started walking away. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Aelin had her suspicions. 

Aedion turned still, stepping backward, a devilish smile on his face. “I’m just going to have a little chat.”

~~~~~

One thing Rowan didn’t want to do was force the interaction, so his father kept him company while he kept his distance from the rest of the party. He was wishing Lorcan had come, but it was only Elide with their two boys. It would just make the whole situation a whole less awkward with someone who was willing to talk to him. Rowan was definitely the outsider and he wasn’t going to push his luck. He also didn’t miss the baleful glares that Aedion was sending his way. 

“He’s her cousin, right?” His father asked and Rowan nodded. “Big brother is more like.”

“They’ve been close since they were kids,” Rowan explained.

Evander hummed something, then sat down on a nearby bench. “Looks like your mother is working her magic.”

Rowan turned, his breath catching at the sight of his mother leading his daughter by the hand—coming right for them. Elspeth was nearly bouncing with uncontained energy. Her grandmother was saying something and the toddler listened with rapt attention. Rowan was so focused on Elspeth that she didn’t notice at first that Fenrys was with them, keeping his distance but looking very much the protective Uncle. It seemed Aelin had sent a bodyguard along, Rowan wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or impressed. They all stopped a healthy distance away 

“Elsie, I want to meet someone,” Iris said. “This is my son Rowan, I think you’ve seen him around.”

Elspeth looked in between the two adults, before she settled on him and gave Rowan a wide smile. “Hi, hi, Ro-yen.”

His heart flipped in his chest to hear her try and pronounce his name in her sweet little voice. Rowan couched down so that he could see her better. “Hi, Elsie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Officially.” 

Elspeth laughed, hugging Iris’ leg. Rowan couldn’t help his own smile at the toddler’s vivaciousness. 

She babbled something too fast for Rowan to follow along, so he just nodded instead. The moment they were having was broken by Korbin running over. “Elsie come play. Rue will catch you on the slide.”

“Yeah!” Elspeth took the hand Korbin offered, but she turned back to wave, “Bye! Bye!”

Iris gave Elspeth a little wave as Rowan stood, she said to anyone that would listen, “She’s such a darling.”

Fenrys politely excused himself. “I’ll head back.”

With nothing else to do, Rowan sat down on a bench to give his parents a break from babysitting him, telling them he’d be fine and to go chat. He started going through some emails for work when the unexpected happened. A shadow fell over him, and looking up Rowan saw Aedion standing in front of him. They hadn’t interacted since the day Rowan had arrived in Orynth and he didn’t expect this conversation to go any better than that one. The look on Aedion’s face had Rowan standing, just even the playing field.

“I don’t know why she's doing what she’s doing or what your game plan is here, but you have no idea what  Aelin has been through these past three years without you.” Aedion crossed his arms just to look more imposing. “So don’t get comfortable.”

“Your opinion is duly noted,” Rowan said, reminding himself he wasn’t here to start a fight, especially not with Aedion. Not when this whole charade was his first chance at real connection. He wanted to comment on how it actually hadn’t been his fault that he was excluded from Elspeth’s life, but that was an inflammatory comment. Luckily Rowan was saved by his phone ringing. “I have to take this.”

Aedion just nodded and let him be. The call turned out to be from a telemarketer but it still gave Rowan the out he needed. He sat on the bench again, seeing that his mother was with Elsie, the two of them searching in the grass for something. From where he sat, Rowan could hear her squeal of excitement and he couldn’t help but smile. He began wishing she’d come over to him again, or maybe he could go over to her, a few sentences wasn’t how he imagined this day going.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Elide asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Of course not,” Rowan replied, moving down the wooden bench to make room for her. She had her youngest with her, sleeping despite the sunlight and the noise. 

“Single guy at the park,” she clicked her tongue. “Not a good look.”

“Hey, I could be some single dad with no friends and one of those kids could be mine,” Rowan said wryly. “Hold on a second.”

Elide laughed but quickly stopped herself when it disturbed the baby in her arms. 

“I come in peace, I swear,” she said as she sat down. “I never thanked you properly for what you did for Lorcan after Eamon was born. It really helped us out. Life with a newborn isn’t easy and you throw a toddler into that…” she made an exasperated sound. “You made my life a lot easier.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Rowan said, and he meant it. He didn’t know what to do with that line of conversation. 

“Rowan, I also wanted to apologise. I was not nice to you when you arrived,” Elide said. 

Rowan shrugged. “You had a perfectly good reason not to.”

“Still… I don’t know.” Elide sighed. “This whole thing is a mess.”

With nothing to say, Rowan just nodded along. A silence stretched out, it wasn’t particularly awkward and he was grateful for whatever solidarity Elide was showing him right now. 

Out of nowhere she said, “Do you want to hold him?”

Rowan’s gaze snapped over to where Elide was gently gesturing to her son. A bubble of nervousness rose in him, he hadn’t really ever held a baby before, not since he was younger and his little cousins had been placed on his lap. But regardless of all that, Rowan found himself wanting to.

“Yeah, if that's okay,” he said lamely. 

Elide in all her wisdom read every bit of nervousness he had and smiled. “I’ll help you.”

She stood so that she could rest the baby in Rowan’s arms easier. Once he had a firm grip on Eamon, Elide gently prompted his arms to where they needed to be for a more comfortable hold. The infant was cradled in his arms, looking so small and peaceful.

“Breathe, Rowan,” Elide chided. “That won’t wake him up.”

Rowan hadn't even noticed how shallow his breathing had gotten until Elide pointed it out. He did what he was told, letting out a large exhale. And she had been right, the baby didn’t wake up. Eamon wasn’t heavy, but it was a comforting sort of weight in Rowan’s arms. There was some clarity and peace that came from holding a baby that he had been totally ignorant of. 

“Ro-yen!” 

That little voice almost startled him, and Rowan might have jumped if not for his determination not to wake Eamon. Elspeth was running for him cutting across the grass and the concrete path. 

“Hey there,” Rowan said. “What are you doing Elspeth?”

Behind her, his mothering was following, just a bit slower than a rambunctious toddler. 

“I have a thing,” Elspeth declared. Then she noticed the baby in Rowan’s arms. “Oh, baby.”

So gently, she patted Eamon’s dark hair.

“Here, I’ll leave you to it,” Elide said, taking the baby back and leaving him and Elspeth alone. 

Elspeth looked up at him, green eyes shining as she smiled. “I have a thing.”

She climbed up onto the bench next to him, and even though Rowan was compelled to help her he didn’t. In the end she managed absolutely fine on her own. Now, Rowan could only watch as she reached out, picking up his hand from where it had rested on his knee. He let her pry his fingers open and put a small white flower in the middle of his palm. Elspeth’s tiny hand rested on his wrist, her finger contracting to hold him better. Rowan was still as anything, like the smallest movement might scare her away. 

“For you,” Elspeth declared. 

“Thank you,” Rowan said, still not moving a muscle. “It’s beautiful.”

“Like you!” she said, sitting back on her knees. “Mama say that everyone is beautiful.”

“Yeah,” was the only reply Rowan could come up with. 

“Just so you know,” his mother said, having finally caught up. “I in no way shape or form encouraged this.”

That stunned Rowan even further. 

“Iris is my friend,” Elspeth said. “You can be my friend too, Ro-yen.”

With that simple and heartfelt declaration Elspeth was off, back to chasing Korbin around the playground. Rowan looked down at the flower in his hand, not wanting to lose it he pulled out his wallet and slipped it inside. 

“That went well,” Iris said, smiling after her granddaughter. Rowan didn’t have the words to reply, he just nodded. Noticing his pensive state, his mother offered, “Time to go?”

Rowan gave an awkward general goodbye to the overall group, not noticing who returned it. Elspeth gave him an enthusiastic wave however from the top of the slide and he returned it. On the drive back to the hotel his parents were staying in, Rowan managed to keep up small talk all the way up to saying goodbye. He blacked all feeling until he was back in his apartment, thankfully not running into anyone else that might live in the building. 

Once inside, a myriad of feelings hit him. He could still feel the phantom touch of Elspeth touching him, like his brain was determined to remember it, to hold onto that feeling as long as he could. Rowan could also the remember the feeling of Eamon in his arms, and he began to wonder if she had felt like that. He would never know, he never got the chance to know her when he was that small.

Rowan braced his hands on the kitchen counter, barely remembering how he got there, as it felt like his chest was caving in. Today had been a tiny glimpse of what he had missed, of a little life he hadn’t had the privilege to be a part of. Something inside him longed for it, and he wasn’t afraid to admit how much that terrified him. 

Questions flooded him, close to overwhelming him. Why hadn’t Aelin told him? Why hadn’t she reached out and let him be a part of this? Why couldn’t he shake the rage that was welling inside him?

A fist slammed on the counter and Rowan hissed at the pain. It offered him some clarity enough to realise it had been him. He had been an absolute bastard, and the fallout may not have been entirely his fault but he shared the majority of it. Enough was enough, some twisted lines of fate had given Rowan this opportunity and he wasn’t about to waste his second chance.

It was time that he proved himself.

~~~~~

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[unsaidcurses]

can you please write smth with reader comforting marcus and being his support system after todays shit show.

i rly need it, i just want to forget todays race happened 😭😭😭

you don't have to go through this alone// m.a.

summary: marcus needs some comforting after monza and you're there to be his support system

pairing: marcus armstrong × reader

wordcount: 2.7k

warning: angst, graphic description of a breakdown, monza weekend (it's a tw itself basically), tiny bit of cursing 

a/n: i swear he's cursed or it doesn't make sense + probably he can pass the curse because tumblr deleted half of this and I had to rewrite :D anyways, is this more dramatic and cheesy than it should have? yes do i care? not particularly

the “delete” button doesn’t exist in real life, right? because if it did, you would certainly have pressed it by now, for marcus’ sake.

it was monza weekend and you accompanied marcus. thank god you did because it had been a real shit couple of races for him, and just the thought of leave him alone dealing with them destroyed you.

he qualified pretty well, to be honest, ending p3, which meant he would start in decent positions both in the sprint and feature race.

it looked so good on friday, you were confident about it.

saturday came and the sprint race with it. you were watching in from the motorhome, nervousness eating you alive as you looked at him overtaking some cars. nothing too bad happened. but then the last three laps arrived and when jack and liam started pushing him for sixth place, marcus had little choice but to skip across the run-off area, keeping his position. you didn’t think much of it, since your main concern was to see him on the track and not in the wall, and you just continued watching the cars speeding around.

when he crossed the line, you were content and satisfied. he finished p6 gaining one position from where he started, which meant a couple of point to bring home. at some point you heard the commentators saying that someone got a 5 second penalty, therefore out of curiosity you asked a mechanics who got it, and your face dropped hearing his answer.

“it’s marcus. he went off track and gained advantage. 5 seconds will bring him back to tenth.”

you tried to rub off your sad expression when you saw him coming closer to the garage. you didn't know if he was aware of the penalty and you didn't want to worry or scary him off in case nobody told him yet.

you kept your eyes on him all the time, from when he spoke to his race engineer, who you assumed announced him what happened, to when he went patting every mechanics’ shoulders murmuring small apologies for his mistake. after he was done, he made his way towards the back of the motorhome, close to his driver room, where he knew you always awaited him.

he stood there in front of you with a disappointed expression on his face. the only thing you thought of doing in that moment was to circle his body with your arms, trying to comfort him a bit, to which he responded just with sliding one hand on the small of your back. it made you frown: he never hugged you like that, if you can even call that a hug.

“hey, hug me properly. you love my hugs.” you tried to cheer him up, looking up at him when you noticed how his eyes were fixed on the floor.

“i don’t love when i finish out of the points though.” the remark came out with a serious tone you hardly ever heard him use. you were almost scared that the usual “make jokes to lighten up the mood” wouldn’t work as it commonly did, so you gave one last try.

“and your hatred for bad races is bigger than your love for my hugs? is it so debilitating?”

“mh, i don’t know let me check.” he placed both arms around your shoulders, gently stroking them. although you couldn't see each other's faces, his action put a smile on both of them.

“i guess i love you a bit more.” he chuckled. you were glad he still had some optimism, after all the next day he would have a huge opportunity starting from second row.

“why don’t you go shower and then we can celebrate with felipe and have some fun?” you hinted at the championship winner, bringing marcus in his room by pulling his hand.

“of course, i’ll be back in a flash.”

-

sunday morning was a repeat of the previous day. in hitch's garage, watching your boyfriend's car race with headphones on, but starting from third today.

you were hopeful. marcus was determined to fight for the podium today, if not even for a win. he wanted to prove himself after the two awful years he had in f2 that he was meant to be there, that he was fast and talented, just extremely unlucky. you perfectly knew it was not an easy game, considering the two drivers who pressured him from the back yesterday were in front of him today, but a huge smile appeared on your face as you see jack in pole struggling when the lights went off, allowing the new zealander to overtake him on the inside.

not even five seconds since the race started and marcus was already in second place, not bad right? wrong. 

six laps later, felipe passed marcus right before a huge incident that caused the deployment of a safety car. he slipped into third again, but regained the position as soon as the track was clear.

after a couple of laps, another incident took place and similarly as before, it resulted in a safety car.

hitech wasn’t particularly famous for making the most efficient pit stops on the grid, especially when it came to marcus’ car, so you hoped they didn’t mess up everything when you saw a silver car pulling in the pit lane. little did you know you didn’t have to worry about the pit itself, but about the way he got in. everything happened too fast, you didn’t understand if the engineer called him late or if he didn’t brake in time, the point is that the boy entered beyond the entry bollard, which caused him a ten second stop and go penalty.

you pulled your hands to your mouth in disbelief. each time he qualified high enough to compete for big points, something had to happen. It’s not like you wish anything bad to any driver, but sometimes the question “why always him?” passed through your mind. did he do something horrible in his past life to deserve this? was he a serial killer? judas? it’s not possible he was so unfortunate all the time with no explanation.

seeing his car getting on track, you didn't have time to rationalize your last thought as a red graphic with his car's number appeared on the screen.

another stop and go penalty for speeding in the pit lane.

“you can’t be real!” you couldn’t contain your shout, removing the headphone from your head and walking away from your spot. it’s absurd to throw away a race in less than 500 meters, yet it happened and clearly marcus was the victim, who else otherwise?

you were disappointed, as the whole garage was, after all, but you knew that none of that compared to what marcus was feeling, and you felt the world breaking in your hands realizing how devastating that could be. he was so positive that morning, only to get it snatched from his hands.

continuing watching the race was so painful, looking at him trying to gain as much ground as he could, but with his gap, you could consider that a wild-goose chase. the only thing that prevented him from being last was liam, who lost a lot of time after being hit by juri.

the race felt interminable, but eventually the checked flag brought an end to this disaster. marcus rushed out of the car, did the bare minimum he had to do publicly without even removing his helmet, like weighting himself and giving an apology to the team, and then left for his room basically running

“marcus, it’s me, can i come in?” you walked to the door and knocked on it, waiting for an answer that never came. you stood there some seconds and tried to lower the handle and then you realized: he locked himself in. you acknowledged the fact that he didn’t want to see, nor be seen from anybody, not even you, which explains why he purposely avoided the side of the garage where you usually were.

so you just waited there, with your forehead resting on the cold material of the door, counting minutes passing and watching all the mechanics moving around and leaving.

you heard a faint click, but at first it didn’t sink it was the key on the other side twisting in the lock. it did only when the solid object that was sustaining you wasn’t anymore, and you almost fell on the ground. you looked up to your boyfriend who had a blank expression on his face.

“can we go get lunch? i’m exhausted, i just want to eat and go to our room.” you wanted to check up on him and ask him if he was okay but he beat you to it by talking first. his face shifted to a pleading look, so you did not insist and just nodded as you walked toward the restaurant he found the other day in front of the hospitality.

not a word left marcus’ mouth during the meal. he didn’t even order, he just mumbled “the same” after you asked the waiter some dishes. some of his friends were with you and he didn’t laugh at their jokes, sometimes he smiled slightly but nothing more.

you slid your hand on his thigh, his eyes left his plate to meet yours and softened immediately, then he moved and placed his head on your shoulder. seeing him like this made you feel so powerless, you at least hoped that the contact could give him some comfort.

the lunch carried on and shortly after he finished his dishes, marcus tugged at your hand still on his leg as an indication to leave, therefore you said goodbye to everybody and headed to your hotel room.

as soon as he entered the room, the driver laid down on the bed. you observed him from the main door with his back turned to you, curling up with his legs close to his chest as to shield his body from all the thing that happened to him in the previous hours and shut them out of his existence.

your heart clenched at the sight. you didn’t know what to do, how to act. looking at the person you love knowing that they’re hurt, that their world is crumbling under their feet and not being able to stop it and protect them, it’s a nightmare.

you stepped closer to the bed and sat on the edge, brushing his hair with your hand in a soothing way.

“are you sure you don’t want to talk about the race?” the question came out as a whisper, not wanting to break the bubble you were in even more than you already did by just talking.

“what do I have to say about it? It was a shit show!” he answered turning briefly towards you, showing his defeated look, returning to his original position after finishing the sentence with an harsh tone. “and we can’t change how things went, it’s useless wasting time on it. just drop it, okay?”

“marcus-“ you called him passing on the other side of the bed to look at his face. “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

this was the last straw of keeping it together. he didn’t want to complain or bother you but when he realized you just wanted him to decompress and share his thoughts with you, he finally opened up.

"i'm tired of putting so much effort in this sport and always being walked all over. when i have the pace, i don’t have a good pit stop. when i have a good pit stop, i don’t have the qualification. and when i have the qualification, i mess up everything anyway!” he ranted sitting up. his hands were moving in the air and his eyes were darting in every direction.

“the fda dropped me, and i will lose my seat in formula 2 the end of the year.” listening him reviewing every single bad event he went through was a stab in the heart, and you really wanted to stop him and disagree with him, but he was unravelling everything he bottled up not only for months but probably years at this point, so you waited in silence listening to him.

“i left home when i was a fucking kid, i didn’t see my siblings grow up, i gave up time with my family, i give up time with you!" his voice progressively increased, breaking at the end of it.

“all of these sacrifices to just get a slap in the face."

he almost started rambling again, but it was clear he couldn't continue. his head fell in his hands, and hot tears escaped his eyes. he didn’t even have the strength to try to stop it, he just let everything go.

you immediately pulled him as close as humanly possible, his head naturally went in the crook of your neck, muffling some of the sobs of despair that left his parted lips. you hold him tight, as a way to tell him that you were there and he was not alone.

imagine how long and how much he held off to explode like this, to end in such an agonizing cry. with a lump in your throat, you whispered sweet nothings to his ear, hoping it would calm him down, and with some swinging back and forth, it did. after a good amount of time, his breath steadied, except for some hiccups sometimes. 

there weren’t big words of comfort you could offer him, after unfolding years of frustration and disappointment. you just wanted to make him realize that the majority of the things he said were none of his fault and that he deserved his place. 

“i’m so sorry you have to deal with all of this. I wish I had a magic wand to make all of this go away,” you let your hand wander through his hair, moving his head to look him in eyes. you meant every word, and you wanted to be sure he understood that. “but I do have time to listen. always. please don’t ever keep all of this to yourself, okay? you’re my boyfriend and best friend, helping you in any way I can is my top priority. we go through things together, and will work them out.”

the grey eyes turned teary once more, but from happiness this time. your words made him feel so supported and loved, he couldn’t find a better way to show you his gratitude than hugging you back, holding on to dear life, with your legs tangled together.

minutes passed and you slowly moved backwards, till you completely laid down on the mattress, marcus using your chest as a pillow while being wrapped safely around your arms as if you were the only thing who could protect him from all the atrocities the world may hold.

“i’m booking a flight for christchurch, okay? we can’t do much about the past, but you have ten free weeks ahead before the next race. spending some time with your family surely won’t hurt.” after meditating about how you could actively help him, you broke the silence.

“are you coming too, right?” he asked in a tiny voice, doubting you would let him down like the whole feeder series world did.

“of course, if you want me to.” you pulled the blanket over your bodies. “why don’t you rest a bit now, mh? you really need and deserve that.”

you felt him nodding subtly, a small yawn following. it wasn’t just for the play when he said he was exhausted, at the end of the day he still had an eventful feature race in the morning.

as you glanced at his face while caressing it continuously, you were met with a peaceful expression, finally. you let your cheek fall on the top of his head, letting your body relax at the thought of him sleeping.

except for the fact that he was still awake.

“thank you. for being my support system and choosing to be by my side every day. I couldn’t ask for anything better honestly. I love you.” 

it was unusual for him to make this kind of confessions, wearing his heart on his sleeves, spilling what he felt deeply, but if he didn’t say it today, when was he supposed to?

“i love you too marcus. dearly.”

and with that you both doze off, with the awareness that you were there for each other no matter what, through thick and thin, whatever your lives offered you.

[i-want-my-iwtv]

hi there, the delusional anon again lol I'm really lighting candles hoping we can finally get the deleted scenes 🕯️

I really wanted to see Louis shooting Lestat and the whole scene they filmed with the first makeup, just out of curiosity. The Trial™, and the scene with louis in the church, killing the priest

and TC as the marquis is GENIUS !!!!!! The tvshow has already made so many references, I would like other actors to appear even for a second! Even the young fop actor (btw did you saw his interview on youtube with a fan?); and jokes aside, I have a lot of fun whenever someone says they would like to see Nicole Kidman in the show as Gabrielle, it's kind evil tbh BUT yet would be cool

I've already spent HOURS on your blog just looking at the deleted scenes, I don't understand why Warner Bros just doesn't release it

anyways, THANK YOU! love your blog 💕

I've already spent HOURS on your blog just looking at the deleted scenes, I don't understand why Warner Bros just doesn't release it anyways, THANK YOU! love your blog 💕

Aww thank you! 😍 That means a lot. I collected this stuff for ppl to enjoy, if Tumblr ever goes down and we lose this archive, I'll definitely be sad. It's too large for me to download 😂 So definitely save stuff for yourself.

Light your candles, Anon 🕯️, but don't hold your breath. Truly, if we were going to get deleted scenes from the '94 movie, the golden opportunities (the 10th and 20th anniversaries 😂) for that have passed. This year will be the 30th, can you believe it?? If anyone is connected to the powers that be, TELL PPL WE WANT THIS STUFF. I'm sure it exists somewhere.

I think those cut scenes could have been great, but I suspect, other than being cut for time, there were good reasons to cut them from a writing perspective.

They may have been too cheesy for what the movie was going for?

Or they might have slowed down the action or detracted from the story?

--- Louis doesn't shoot Lestat that night in the book; Lestat gets shot at the Theatre de Vampires (before it's called that) in the Vampire Lestat, so it's possible that it was filmed, and then cut from the IWTV '94 movie with the intention to include it properly in the sequel TVL (not that Lestat can't get shot twice! but still! Getting shot on stage in front of an audience rather than in a bedroom with no other witnesses is, debatably, more shocking).

I felt like there was a somewhat feverish pace with Lestat coming to Louis at his bedside, that scene went by pretty quickly, it made it more vibrant and precious. In the book, Louis had been in poor health and then ppl had bled him to try to "cure him of his madness," so Lestat really didn't have the luxury of waiting too much longer to turn him; Louis could have died 😭. And maybe the whole Louis-shooting-Lestat might've killed the mood Lestat was aiming for, which was seductively offering Louis the Dark Gift. Shooting Lestat might've been more than a little off-putting in that moment 😂 Do you really want to turn someone into your immortal companion after they've JUST SHOT YOU? It might not kill Lestat, but it would still hurt!

[^X]

I mean I LOVE Tom!Lestat, and this is one of the few BTS pics we have of the Trial scene (you can see the theatre crypts behind him 😭)... it's charming to me bc I love that movie, but it might have been cut bc in a way it's more painful to excise the whole trial. Like barely seeing the shark in JAWS. With no trial, it would mean that Louis and Claudia had absolutely no chance; it was all up to Santiago's (or Armand's) whim 😭 Lestat wasn't even there to try to advocate for either Louis or Claudia (or maybe he WAS there, but locked in a cell somewhere and unable to help them!).

and TC as the marquis is GENIUS !!!!!!

Right?? That could be amazing.

The tvshow has already made so many references, I would like other actors to appear even for a second!

I haven't heard of that happening... don't hold your breath there, either, I think they would have done it already if they intended to do so. My guess is that AMC really wants to do their own thing apart from the 1994 movie (other than rewriting a few scenes), so I don't think there will be any cameos in the future, but maybe I'm wrong!

Even the young fop actor (btw did you saw his interview on youtube with a fan?);

I didn't see the video, but I met that actor, Lee Scharfstein, IRL in NOLA in 2022, he was lovely!

and jokes aside, I have a lot of fun whenever someone says they would like to see Nicole Kidman in the show as Gabrielle, it's kind evil tbh BUT yet would be cool

That is kind of evil haha but Nicole has been a favorite of fanartists and roleplayers for years, that's not a hot take. If I had to choose Tom as the Marquis OR Nicole as Gabs... bc putting them together would be A LOT to ask... I think I'd prefer Tom, because of the deliciousness of having him play his own father... but we have a better chance of getting Nicole so I would LOOOOVE to have her as Gabs paired w/ Timothy Omundson as the Marquis.

Oh and BTW since you've read this far, I accepted the headcanon that the Marquis' name was Valere de Lioncourt, as per the legendary @gairid/ @vampchronfic 😭💕

[planetkiimchi]

ten things i hate love about lee | l.t

pairing: ten x fem implied!reader, highschool au, non idol!au, academic rivals

warnings: pg13, used a few curse words (fuck once for emphasis)

word count: 5.9K

summary — ten lee is practically perfect in every way. good for him, because you don’t care. except that he’s outshining you in areas you’ve never been outdone in before, and you hate him for it. maybe the reason you hate him is not because he’s talented, but because of how you’re falling for him.

a/n: thank you @ssunnae for beta reading the last part <3 i accidentally deleted my work on tumblr editor, had to try and copy and paste from docs, realised my docs wasn't the latest updates version, tried to restore the last bullet point from tumblr (which i had just tried to delete thinking i’d just use the docs version) when making this. it was hell. however, i did have a lot of fun playing with the chinese parts! please enjoy.

New year, new you. The careful arrangement of your stationery in your pencil case and the neat stacks of books in your bag are all leading up to one thing really. This year, this year is going to be your academic comeback.

#1: His academic prowess.

Now the thing is, when you say "academic comeback" you're not really talking about going from failing to passing. You're actually already at the top of the class. It's just that there's a certain boy called Ten Lee who constantly puts you on edge.

You're constantly competing in everything that you do now. Last time, you couldn't really care less if you were second or third in class, because you could run circles around most of the people during physical education (PE) class, play the piano semi-proficiently, and carry a tune.

Then, the year that you turned fifteen, a new boy transferred to your school.

He was Thai and had a deceivingly cute smile, and at first you couldn't wait to be friends with him.

"Hi! I'm Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, but you can call me Ten. Because I'm a ten out of ten in everything I do!" was how he had introduced himself.

And honestly, it was a little cheesy, but you thought he was all the cuter for it. Especially because he had clarified the Thai system of nicknames and explained that it really was his name, not just a joke to boast about himself.

So that was fine, up till the point when everyone started comparing you to him.

When he got first in class for math, you were surprised but not disappointed. You had done your best, and since you hadn't studied that much anyway. you were proud of your solid understanding. Besides, you had seen how much he had studied and worked for his grades. It was understandable to you.

But not to everyone else.

Not when he could keep up with you during gym class. He said that he did martial arts, which obviously made a lot more sense, but his stamina was scarily good. It was insane how much he trained and the discipline he had, and your parents started calling you out for it.

"Why aren't you studying?" They would ask. "Didn't the new boy, whose first language isn't even English, do better than you in Literature? It's probably because you don't work hard enough." It was the first time in your not-very-long life that you realised you actually had to start studying and not just submit homework on time.

It was a realisation you could have done without, but it was starting to eat into you. Your friends would throw in teasing remarks from time to time about how "Ten Lee was so smart and hahaha Y/n you finally have a competitor!" without consideration for the fact that you didn't want a competitor. You were perfectly fine cruising through high school and you didn't need someone to put into perspective your talents.

You had been the prodigy for so long you couldn't comprehend someone threatening your status.

Getting used to it took a while. And by "a while", you meant three years. But this year, you were going to be eighteen. You were going to become legal, and you had new worries to think about.

Like adulting, and drinking, and several other things like when were you going to get a house or pay your parents back for your car? Trivial matters seemed to occupy your mind a lot, but it was all similarly linked to proving yourself in the eyes of your peers again.

Also, you missed being validated.

Speaking of which.... "Hey there. I'm... supposed to be sitting here?"

That voice sounded familiar, who was it? As you looked up from your phone, you caught sight of a very familiar, annoyingly handsome face. Ten Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.

The universe must have been conspiring against you, because there was no way your luck was this bad. In a room with 20-odd teenagers, you still ended up with Ten, of all people? Seriously?

You gave him a stiff but polite smile (mostly to show him that you weren't above having manners either) and went back to fidgeting with your pen and trying your best to ignore his presence.

Sitting next to Ten was the worst experience of your life. When you previously a minimum of two seats away from him, how studious he was didn't bother you quite as much.

But it was a little more difficult to ignore the constant scribbling he was doing in his notebook (and they were good, neat notes; you peeked). His quiet confidence should have been contagious, but it was slightly disarming.

You were about to confidently explain why the work done against friction in your physics problem was 30.0 joules, when he lightly tapped your worksheet and said under his breath, "You missed one step. It's 27 joules."

Lo and behold, as soon as you looked at what he was pointing to, you realised he was right. Your skin coloured and you shook your head, lowering your hand as your teacher turned to look at you.

"Yes, Y/n? Would you like to answer the question?"

"It's alright," you mumbled softly. "I realised I missed something out."

The embarrassment seeped into your skin like poison, making you feel more and more terrible throughout the day. It wasn't the first mistake you had made, but that somehow made it worse. It made you wonder if previously Ten had noticed all your mistakes, and thought you were careless and silly.

You were still thinking about it at the end of the school day, as you collected your books and stashed it back into your bag, too tired to think about organising it.

"See you tomorrow," Ten smiled at you, waving as he left. Oh, how you hated the unreasonable way you disliked him.

#2: His chivalry.

"Good morning." Being greeted by Ten in the morning was one of those things you could do without. But it had been a good morning so far, and you weren't going to let him ruin that.

"Good morning," you replied, reaching for the door that both of you were standing in front of.

He beat you to it, opening the door before you could and gesturing for you to go first. You did, but with a slight huff, trying not to let it show how annoyed you were that you hadn't been faster.

It was a good morning though, he was right.

Firstly, your Chinese teacher was sick and not in school, meaning you had a free period. You and Yangyang decided to go to the library during your free period, happily speaking in Chinese all the way there.

Obviously, your teacher had assigned work, but the quiet confines of the library allowed you to be productive as you and Yangyang listened to music through your headphones (and his Airpods. Rich boy).

The hour passed uneventfully, and you headed back to class, refreshed from the cool air of the air-conditioned library. 

Secondly, it was Literature period. You were currently on the topic of poetry, and though some of the poems made little to no sense to you, "Five ways to kill a man" was one of the most interestingly satirical poems you'd read.

Analysing poems was not your forte, but listening to people give their interpretations of poems and seeing the influence of their worldview on their interpretation was definitely intriguing.

Time flew by, and before you knew it, it was time for break.

You would gladly and easily have slid back into the rhythm of ignoring Ten completely, except he suddenly seemed determined to be everywhere in your life.

As you queued up for your food, he moved back, allowing you to order first. When you went back to class, he pulled your chair out for you to sit. When you dropped your pencil and bent down to pick it up, he covered the edge of the table so you wouldn't hurt your head.

What was wrong with him? Why was he going out of his way to be so nice?

Ten was a nice guy, there was no denying that. Even when he was constantly overshadowing your achievements, he never bragged about it, especially not to your face. But never before had he gone out of his way three consecutive times to be nice to you.

Something had to have been up. Maybe he had had too much sugar in his coffee, and was channeling the energy rush through being nice. Maybe he had been dared to do so. Maybe-

"Earth to Y/n. Are you okay? You've been staring at the same math problem for five minutes now without lifting your pen."

You blinked rapidly and looked at Ten, then back down at your paper. He was right (again). It was an easy question, but you were so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn't even started it yet.

Hurriedly, you put your pen to paper and began writing, trying to forget how caught up you had been in your thoughts of Ten. 

#3: His generosity.

After a week of sitting next to Ten, his mannerisms became quite commonplace. You got used to his greetings each morning, coming to enjoy the positive way they started your day.

His smile and the way he threw his head back when he laughed — you grew used to it, to like it, even. He brought cheesy humour and dad jokes to class sometimes, muttering them under his breath and being surprised when you replied.

Slowly, your dynamic with him shifted from tolerance to acceptance, and his prominent existence in your life grew more and more bearable.

Take the time you bumped into him at the coffee shop near school, for example. You had left home early, as per usual, and were on your way to grab a cup of coffee from your favourite place just next to the school.

The shop was a small little place along the road that experienced high traffic in the mornings and afternoons when school ended. Students and teachers alike frequented the place, and you were no exception.

Like clockwork, you made your way there for your usual cappuccino (you liked milk) in the wee hours of the morning as the sun groggily rose. As per your usual morning routine, you were about to order your drink when you stumbled and bumped into the person in front of you.

Cursing your clumsiness, you immediately apologised. The person turned around, and you came face to face with none other than Ten Lee. You had been coming to the shop every schoolday for one and a half years and not once, had you seen Ten order anything from the shop. You’d never seen him step foot in it, nor bring a cup of the fresh coffee into class to savour.

It was so out of the ordinary that you froze, not quite sure what to do. Thrown off by the lack of habitual routine, it was all you could to pull yourself together to deliver your order.

“So sorry about that. I’ll pay for your coffee,” Ten told you, and the cashier nodded before you could protest. You wanted to tell him that really, it was fine, and it was definitely your fault, and could he please stop being such a gentleman?

But the words got caught in your mouth, and you stared dumbfoundedly at him as he paid.

Feeling a bit guilty and slightly awkward, you moved along down the queue, reaching out to grab your order. Thankfully, Ten didn’t try to initiate any conversation, and slowed down his pace when you briskly walked away.

That was, well. Perhaps not the best example of an encounter with Ten that was bearable. But you did understand his well-meaning intentions and were starting to get that maybe that was just what he was like.

After all, Ten’s generosity did seem to come intrinsically. He never failed to offer a pen when someone needed to borrow one, or to buy someone a gift when it was their birthday. (That was actually another thing you’d noticed. He remembered things about people.)

Once, you overheard him talking to Xiaojun about the upcoming NCT 127 concert. Xiaojun's bias was Jaehyun, and when Ten was buying them tickets, he'd purposely selected the category of restricted view seats that would be nearer to Jaehyun.

At the time, you didn't really think much of it, but thinking back on it, Xiaojun must have felt so loved to know that someone noticed his preferences like that. Ten's thoughtfulness in his gifts (not just giving costly, expensive and useless items) was something else that made you like him, just a little.

#4: Him being multilingual.

February 22nd was probably the first day that you didn't get greeted by Ten at the door. It was funny how over the course of a month, you'd quickly become accustomed to saying good morning to him. Although it was only two words, they did help to start your day on the right foot.

You had read somewhere that it took 59-70 days to form a habit. It might only have been about 50, but you had come to form the habit of greeting Ten each morning.

So when Ten was busy on a phone call that morning, you couldn't help but to notice that he seemed to be speaking in Thai. You had to confess that even after three years of knowing Ten, you had never heard him speak in his native language before.

His English was extremely good, and the accent could not be associated with his Thai origins, so the way he sounded in Thai was quite foreign to you.

"Y/n, why do you look so out of it today?"

"Hm?" You shook your head, shaking yourself from your trance to say hello to your friend Kun. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."

"What about?"

Ten Lee? You couldn't possibly tell Kun that. You'd sound like a silly little highschooler with a crush on your classmate! Instead, you shrugged and gave as vague of an answer as you could. "Projectile motion..."

Kun nodded, unconvinced. But he didn't press you for details, instead choosing to switch to Chinese, suspecting that you wanted to talk about Ten without him realising.

“Zhe shi yin wei li yong qin ma？” Is this because of Ten Lee?

“Ng!” You replied unhappily. “Wo zen me mei gan jue dao zi ji wu yi zhong xi huan shang le ta ne?” How could I have not realised myself unconsciously falling for him?

"It happens," Kun replied, not unkindly. "After all-"

"Wo hen you mei li a," Ten interjected. I have a lot of charm. You half-flinched, half-gasped. Since when could Ten speak Chinese? Yes, you were well aware that he could speak Thai, English and Korean fluently, but nobody had told you that he could speak Chinese!

If you had known, you would have saved yourself so much embarrassment. Luckily, Kun was as surprised as you, meaning he hadn't deliberately tried to put you on the spot when switching languages.

Oh, his multilingual brain was too much for you to bear. How were you going to explain yourself? You had basically just indirectly confessed your undying love for Ten in the least subtle way possible.

You buried your face in your hands to hide the blush spreading over your cheeks, and Kun patted your back comfortingly, trying to tell you that it was okay (it wasn't).

Just then, Yangyang of all people had to walk past.

Of course, the nosy boy wanted to know what had just happened. Kun pulled him aside, gently explaining under his breath the absolutely mortifying situation you were in, while you tried to ignore the amused look you were sure was on Ten's face.

"Are you done sulking yet?" He asked, the light-heartedness in his tone somehow making things worse. He obviously didn't understand how humiliated you were feeling.

"... No." You pouted and turned over so that you didn't have to face him, drowning out the sounds of Yangyang's laughter.

"Zumindest kann er kein Deutsch," he offered.

"It doesn't matter if he can't speak German," you groaned. "Neither can I, really! Ahh zhen bu hao yi si!" You cry into your sweater. This is so embarrassing!

Wait a second... you don't own a sweater.

Reluctantly, you sat up and looked at the sweater, checking for a name of some sort. Written on the tag of the sweater, in cursive, was Ten's name.

Of-fucking-course. He probably just draped it over you while you were wallowing in your sorrow, and you didn't realise because you were too busy being embarrassed.

"You can keep it," Ten supplied helpfully. "I've got plenty anyway."

You didn’t know why, but you were glad it smelled like him.

#5: His arms.

It was late when you left school that evening. Your extracurriculars had dragged longer than they were supposed to, and the sun was already setting by the time you climbed into your car.

It wasn't the first time that you were leaving school late in the evening, but you still felt like there was someone watching you, or following you. Afraid to draw attention to yourself, you quickly started the engine and drove off towards your house.

You were maybe fifteen minutes away from home when you realised that a car behind you had been following you for the past fifteen minutes. Instead of going home by the usual route, you turned left instead. (You were probably going to get lost due to your terrible sense of direction, but it was fine.)

The car followed.

You took another left, hoping against hope that it would finally stop tailing you.

But it didn't.

Nervous and unsure what to do, you noticed with a start that the street you were on was oddly familiar. Where had you seen it before... Oh, that was right. Ten's street was on the left. You'd seen it on his Instagram and thought it was unfairly good for photo taking.

With one hand on the wheel and your fingers shaking, you dialed Ten's number and turned left.

"Hello?" His voice sounded warm and inviting, and you wished you could be next to him right at that moment.

"Are you home? Can- can you open the door, please?" You asked, voice trembling. Ten didn't reply for a moment, but you heard his footsteps over the call and breathed a sigh of relief. Surely he would say yes....

"What's going on, Y/n?" He asked, voice hardening. He sounded annoyed, angry, even. It was not an emotion you were used to attributing to Ten. He always seemed happy all the time, and if he were mad because you were calling him, you didn't know where else to go.

"I think someone's following me. And I'm on your street. If the lights in your house are on, I'll be able to spot you," you forced yourself to say.

"Okay." Without asking any more questions, you saw the side gate of a house open. You abruptly came to a halt, trying to ignore the screeching of brakes as the car behind you struggled to come to a stop as well. You threw open the door and shut it behind you, fingers shaking as you tried to lock it and ran into Ten's house, stumbling into his arms as he hurriedly locked the door behind you.

"Didn't know where else to go," you mumbled, your legs turning into jelly as you shook nervously in his arms.

#6: His art.

It took a while before you felt alright again. It came slowly, as Ten handed you a mug of hot chocolate and sat you down on the couch. Every one of his moves was slow, cautious, careful not to jar you and gently bring you back to your senses. You hugged the sweater tighter around yourself, curling up and wiggling your toes, glad he did not mention that the sweater you were wearing was his.

Neither of you spoke, and instead you let your gaze linger over the vastness of the inside of Ten's house. You'd never been in it before, but even though it didn't feel sprawlingly big, it felt open and spacious, with plenty of space for creation, and more importantly, creativity.

Art was everywhere into the house, imbued in the very spirit of it. The mug in your hand was glazed, and you could feel the untouched base of the mug had something etched into it. If you flipped it over, you would have seen Ten's Thai name engraved there, a mark of his own work.

The wall was covered in wallpaper, but the wallpaper was blank, and acted as a giant canvas. On some edges, there were doodles in bold black marker, something he must have done mindlessly when he was bored. On the other sides, there were impulsive brush strokes drawn in large arcs, some dry and opaque, some more translucent, and some that were just delightfully textured.

It drew you to it, making you feel at home even in the house with all its modern furniture. The rug beneath your feet felt like his work as well, with the cow pattern on it reminiscent of his unique art style.

"Are you alright?" Ten asked, breaking the silence.

You would have liked to stay quiet for a little longer, absorbing all the little pieces of Ten that had slowly been absorbed into the house, to learn everything that made him him. But perhaps it was the art itself and the way that it made you feel that caused the words to spill and heave out of you like a waterfall.

You couldn't tell if you hated or loved the way you felt vulnerable and willing to overshare in the atmosphere that he had created, but when Ten gently smiled at you to go on, you decided that things could most definitely be worse.

"This guy was following me, and I didn't know where to go, so I tried to shake him off and realised that I was near your house and then I got scared and tried to call you and you picked up and well. I didn't know where else to go." The words tumbled out of your mouth, and you couldn't stop yourself from rambling.

"Hey. Are you alright?" Ten inched closer towards you, setting his open palm facing upwards on his thigh, inviting you to hold his hand. As soon as you reached out towards him, he clasped your hand tightly and comfortingly and said nothing for a few moments.

When you spoke, his smile had dropped, and you knew he was trying to hide his shock at the man following you. It was creepy, yes, and you had been so afraid, but you had always kind of known that this was an experience you would go through at least once in your lifetime. However, for a man, this could well have been one of his worst nightmares.

"I think I'm okay now."

#7: His willingness to help.

"You know, I won't be there every time if you're getting chased. You've got to learn how to protect yourself. I can teach you martial arts, if you'd like."

The offer came from nowhere, so you were a little surprised, but also inclined to take him up on it. It really was going to be a problem, and even if it wasn't, it was always good to learn a new skill from someone who's proficient in it.

You nodded numbly.

"Want me to drive you home?" You shook your head, reaching into your pocket for your phone to let your parents know where you were. Knowing them, they were probably worried out of their minds because you hadn't reached home yet.

Sure enough, when your mother picked up the phone, she bombarded you with questions. They were all very well-meaning, like asking you where you were and why you weren't home, and are you okay? You told her that you were at Ten's house, a creepy guy was following you, and you had been deathly afraid but you were all good now.

"Can I stay over at Ten's place?"

Your mum sounded doubtful when she replied, asking about your clothes and your books and where you were going to sleep. She sounded inclined to say no, telling you that you shouldn't overstay your welcome. She made you thank Ten several times, insisting that you leave.

Thank goodness for Ten, who charmed your mother into listening to him and agreeing to let you stay overnight. He assured her that you could borrow his younger sister's clothes and that not to worry, she was overseas and wouldn't mind.

Your mother told you to thank him (again) tonight and the next morning when you left his place. You agreed, reminding her that you love her and she hung up.

"Your sister doesn't really live in this house, does she?"

Ten looked at you confusedly. "Where else would she live?"

"I don't know, it just seemed like I'd never seen her before." You shrugged, looking around at the house again. "And, well, it did seem like you lived here all alone, but I guess it's too big of a house for you to manage on your own."

"I assure you that I live with my family. My parents are upstairs right now, and my sister's on an exchange programme right now so she's not in town. The reason they haven't come here is probably because it's a big house and they're busy doing something together. The last activity they were doing was solving a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle."

Ten's family seemed so chill and easygoing, a stark contrast to what you were used to. Ten brought you up to his sister's room to borrow her pajamas, and you took the chance to take a quick shower, wiping yourself down with a towel you had borrowed.

Afterwards, the manners your parents had ingrained in you caused you to insist that Ten introduce you to his parents, and you apologised for intruding and disturbing their evening.

However, they were absolute sweethearts. His father offered to make some food for you, if you were hungry, and his mother asked if you were quite alright after the ordeal. You insisted that you were fine, but they wouldn't stop worrying until Ten assured them that you're fine.

It was really all very endearing, because your parents fussed in a different way from them, and had never been so open to simply having people over. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last sleepover you had.

Ten brought you up, but his parents wouldn't let you sleep in his room. He brought you to his sister's room, and you fell asleep fitfully.

Image

#8: His proficiency in martial arts

You really misinterpreted what Ten meant by "teaching you martial arts". You thought he meant a chill session and some quick tips on defending yourself, maybe a few corrections. After which, you'd feel badass and ready to tackle any horny, screwed-up in their minds men.

You were dead wrong, because Ten had not meant any of those things.

You were only five minutes in and already drenched in sweat, your clothes sticking to your skin and droplets beading at your hairline. You lifted your arm to wipe the sweat away with your sleeve, and your biceps screamed out in pain, begging for mercy.

It turns out that the reason Ten was so physically fit was because his training routine was rigorous. Not pretentious rigorous, and not the type of rigorous that bodybuilders used to lose fat, either. It was the type of rigorous that strengthened your muscles and pushed them just shy of their breaking point.

If you had to do this every other day, you'd probably be in the best physical shape of your life, which was Ten's current situation.

Ten was determined to make you stronger, because according to him, you "can't defend yourself if you're weak." It was a really polite way of saying that you weren't strong enough to protect yourself, which was a humbling thought.

He told you that you were only going to be doing a warmup, since you were just starting and you had school the next day. ("I want you to be able to walk tomorrow" were his exact words. It was... encouraging to hear that. Not.)

10 minutes in, you were cursing Ten's proficiency in martial arts. And your own stupidity, for agreeing to it. Why had you thought you would be able to keep up with him? He was Ten, your archnemesis, your one and only competitor who could beat you if he tried just a little. Obviously, you never learned from your mistakes.

Ten decided that you should try to punch people first. But not the way that you wanted to.

Instead of cool punches and socking people in the jaw (you're sure Ten got to do that in training, but you weren't Ten), he made you hit your elbows upwards against his padded gloves until the muscles in your arms, shoulders and back that you didn't even realise existed throbbed.

Then, he simply moved on to the next exercise. You never got to throw him over your shoulder like a sack of rice, but you did get to practise almost breaking his arm. A hundred or so times, until you weren't even trying to hit him anymore. He would yell at you to try harder ("Where's your energy?") and then, when you gave him a tired look, lower his volume and say, "Let's try that again."

Again, he was not being unkind, but his focus and seriousness made him a very strict teacher indeed.

The most fun part was when he decided to teach you how to kick a man in the groin. (Not knee them. Because that would take away the advantage of distance, of course. Of course you knew that.)

He lifted his arms up, carefully moving himself out of the "line of fire" and positioning himself diagonally in front of you. Channeling all your rage, tiredness and desire to go home, you kicked your leg out as hard as you could-

And fell right on your butt.

Your butt hurt, but your ego hurt more. Especially when Ten failed to contain his laughter, gasping for air and even choking. Was he trying to be dramatic or was he always like that? It was a far cry from the stifled, polite laughter in class when you laughed at his jokes, but it was endearing all the same.

You couldn't fault him for finding it funny. You were, after all, on your butt on the ground and it was possibly due to your hubris. Maybe being overconfident while trying a new skill wasn't a good idea, especially when you were trying it out with your expert classmate (who maybe wasn’t really your rival anymore).

Ten knelt down, arms wrapping around you from behind as he pulled you to your feet, his warm embrace making you want to fall asleep in his arms.

#9: His back.

Wait... what?

Okay, this definitely wasn't a good idea. Thinking about falling asleep in Ten's arms, in Ten's house, after spending a night over? Yeah, this was a recipe for trouble.

Ten seemed oblivious to how you were feeling, since all he did was continue teaching you a new skill.

“So what if he tries to grab you from behind? Well obviously, if it’s someone you know, you might hug him back. But if it’s a creepy guy? You’ll want to be able to attack him regardless of how he’s holding you.”

To demonstrate, Ten tightly grabbed you from behind. You would have liked to protest, but he grabbed you so suddenly that you lost your balance, falling forwards. Reacting quickly, Ten rolled over and you landed on top of him, hyperaware of his arms and his body heat and the feel of his breath on you.

Your faces were so close to each other that if you moved too quickly, you might just kiss him. Which, honestly, didn’t sound like a bad idea at this point. Your locked arms were the only thing keeping your lips from his. And they were trembling from your exhaustion and the desire to give in to the tired pleas of your muscles.

Ten tried to lift your arm off of him, trying to stand up—which was a terrible mistake. Your elbow immediately gave way, and you crashed onto him, your chest falling onto his. Your heart was racing, and with the proximity, you couldn’t tell if the thumping sound was coming from your heart, or his. 

Just before you thought things couldn’t get any worse, Ten angled his face up and whispered in your ear, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded dumbly and he gently kissed you, so quickly you couldn’t tell for sure if it was intentional. It was the slightest brush of his lips on yours, the brief contact making you yearn for more.

Before you could advance on him any further, he stood up abruptly, one hand carelessly pulling you up.

#10: His pretty face.

Ten’s face was flushed red and you were sure yours was too. He looked away quickly, composed himself, and turned back to you. “Shall we continue?”

Except you didn’t hear him, because you were too busy pressing your fingers to your lips in shock and staring into his eyes. 

He waved his hand in front of your face and you jerked back to reality. “Yeah- Actually, no. Let’s discuss this.” You gestured meaninglessly, realised how dumb you looked, and dropped your hand lamely.

Ten looked at you expectantly, clearly waiting for a greater revelation than that.

“Like, me sleeping in your sister’s clothes and you buying me coffee? And—goodness forbid—you flirting with me? And now this? Ten, I thought we weren’t even on speaking terms!”

It was only until the last sentence that Ten’s confusion dissipated, and you realised with a start that the pressure he put on you was very much one sided. To him, it was a friendly rivalry. To you, it was a threat to your pride.

“Y/n, we were always on speaking-”

“Actually, you know what? It’s fine. I’m just confused, but I’ll be fine. Please, continue.”

Ten’s hand reached out and grabbed your chin, tilting your head and forcing you to look at him. “You’re so dense! Is kissing you not obvious enough? Y/n, I like you!”

“I- I don’t understand,” you fumbled, desperately grasping for straws.

“I like you,” he deadpanned. “I don’t know how much more obvious I can make it. Is this not straightforward enough? What more do you want me to do?”

“Kiss me again,” was out of your lips before you could stop yourself, and Ten’s lips were on yours before you could process what you had just said.

“I blame it on that pretty face of yours,” you said as soon as he pulled away.

“Oh yeah?” He tipped his face upwards and laughed, the sound of his laughter as light as a feather. You couldn’t help but to stare at him, the curve of his chin and the tilt of his jaw, his scoff and the way he rolled his eyes at the same time. His cheeks were dusted pink and his eyes fixed themselves on you again.

He flexed his hand, adjusting the wrap around his wrist and you felt the sudden urge to give him a hug.

“I love you, Ten Lee,” you whispered in his ear, and although you couldn’t see it, he smiled, just a little.

glossary:

*这是因为李永钦吗？ (is this because of ten lee?)

**嗯! 我怎么没感觉到自己无意中喜欢上了他呢？ (yes! how could i have unconsciously fallen for him?)

***我很有魅力啊。(i have a lot of charm)

****真不好意思！(how embarrassing!)

[wilcze-kudly]

Thank you @nova-leaf for this tag too 🥰

wow i get to talk about myself so much im nervous

•How many tumblr accounts have you had before this one?

This is gonna be my fith tumblr account lol. I lose track of them really easily because I'm a silly funky guy with so much wrong with me.

• How long have you been in fandom?

Oh like. Since I was 10? God I remember my firat forays into fandom culture on amino it was an experience good god. My first fandom was Tolkien. I've only recently gotten into the Avatar fandom though. Still not sure how that happened but I'm having fun 🥰

•Your favorite trope in fiction?

I adore found family, cause I'm basic lol. The power of friendship is also a cheesy beloved of mine.

•Your favorite random fact?

Tolkien had beef with the Beatles. Hayao Miyazaki hates the Beatles. Junji Ito loves the Beatles.

•Your favourite game or kind of game?

Skyrim is my favourite game. Open world RPGs are my escape. I love them so much I try not to play them too often or I'll never get up lol.

•A place you’d like to visit? (If carbon emissions, logistics and money weren’t in question)

Hm. This is a tough one. I like to travel and I want to go to many places. But if I had to pick one point off that list, it would pribably be mount Shasta. I'm just curious, I guess, with all the legends and disappearances and odd happenings around it. Like I just wanna see the place not even have anything supernatural happen. Just be there for a bit? Call it morbid curiosity. Also the area seems beautiful even of itself like even if the aliens don't get me i think it'd be a nice hike.

•An animal you’re irrationally afraid of?

Ants. I like most bugs. I like spiders. But ants? Ants give me straight up panic attacks? I don't know why. There's just something very terrifying aout them.

Also. Swans. But that's not an irrational fear. Geese and swans are in my opinion the true successors of dinosaurs. If you haven't been a girl scout cowering in a flimsy tent with your three other girl scout friends, in the middle of a thunderstorm, while a pair of feral swans is trying to peck their way into your tent you do not know true fear.

Their pecks hurt like a bitch too. Their beaks are serrated like a fucking saw.

•What’s your favourite season?

Autumn. In Poland we divide Autumn into two mini seasons. Golden Autumn, which is early autumn, when the freshly fallen leaves are all crispy and beautiful. And then we have Rainy Autumn, which is when it has rained and gotten much colder. I love both.

•A smell that brings you nice memories?

Tea. I started drinking tea when I was very young. My dad is an Englishman and the moment i stopped drinking breastmilk i was immediately given tea with milk.

I think I associate tea very strongly with my family and feeling loved by them. When I was younger, my parents would often wake up before me, so they would often make me tea and wake me up with it.

Making tea for someone is still a huge gesture of affection to me and there's nothing quite like the smell of a nice hot cup of tea.

(If you’re ok talking about food. If not, delete this part)

•What’s your favorite food from where you were born? And what’s your favorite food from some place else?

My favourite food from Poland, huh? I love a lot of Polish foods, but I if I had to pick something it'd probably be krówki [which translates to 'little cows']. They're fudgelike candies, similair to Scottish Tablets and White Rabbit Creamy Candy. They're delicious.

For food from a different country? @nova-leaf has put the idea of Shortbread into my head now so that's all ill be thinking about I have to see if I have the stuff to make some at home or I'll go insane.

•What’s your favorite drink (if you drink alcohol, alcoholic and non-alcoholic)?

Alcoholic: Salty Caramel flavoured Krupnik. It is very difficult to explain what a Krupnik is? Its kind of like a liqueur.

Non Alcoholic: Orange Juice. It used to be diet coke but my addiction got so bad i had to quit cold turkey lest I completely wreck my health.

•Do you give your pets random table scraps?

Not random table scraps, but if I have any extra of whatever I'm cooking, and if they can eat it, I'll sometimes give them some as a snack or as an incentive while training them.

Thanks for the tag honey!

Tagging: @linnorabeifong @thatoneguy56fanfic @novaae @thenamescaba

[queerdesire]

Okay this is so cheesy but for the first time in my dating life I deleted my dating accounts not just the app off my screen. I know that doesn’t seem like a crazy thing but I feel like I have/had commitment issues. Slowly over the last few years of dating I’ve learned new techniques to handle my attachment style to become more secure, I’ve learned self worth and when it’s time to leave, I’ve learned to see a red flag and not call it beige/yellow. Most importantly and the hardest of all I’ve learned how to leave when my needs are not met.

This is the first time in a very long time I’m genuinely going to ask someone to be my girlfriend and mean it. Not casual, not situational, not confusing. I told my friend it feels different and she asked in what way and the word that jumped to mind was healthy. Not the fake healthy or the idea of healthy that I’ve had people/myself try to sell me, but actually healthy.

I wood carved her a black cat and a golden retriever, because that’s the trope energy we give off and a little inside joke. I’m gonna keep them in my pocket and ask her when the moment feels right, but I’m very excited for this new feeling of wanting to grow with someone. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt matched energy in every way and a long time since I’ve wanted to grow with someone.

To be continued because I think she’s going to ask me at a flower field 😂 we will see