#is it so hard to let two things with a similar setting stand as independent peices of art?

[yavin42]

some people love to pit black sails and ofmd against each other for a weird and unfounded battle over pirate show supremacy. but apart from the tonal differences and totally different perspectives of their main themes, and the fact that it doesn’t diminish either shows to recognise the other, it seems to me that in ofmd there are numerous quotes and appreciative nods to black sails in both dramaturgy and minor details (despite their differing genres) that make clear that it’s not the intention to be the “better queer pirate show” that some fans seem to read from it as an act of insolence but a recognition of the great work that at least in some way paved the road for their show. ofmd is in itself a transformative work both in it being in a way like fan fiction and its consistent commitment to giving tropes of incredibly popular genres of fiction (both the adventure/pirate story and the rom com - genres that come with a whole force of normative power) a different spin and a new reading.

[brave-forest-dweller]

[Remember to give credit to when credit is due and all that will you?]

Ohhhh yeah this was supposed to be a blog with astrology and fortune telling in it wasn't? And I never did an original post about it. Then let's talk about one of my favorite parts about...

Elemental combos:

I was thinking about how certain combinations of elements can bring up certain commom traits among people. I wrote down combos of 2 so you can think of what happens when two different elements are brought together in a middle ground. These can be used to help interpret certain combinations of planets, luminaries, aspects and even planets with similar themes and different elements but it can also help interpret when there is a predominance of more than one element inside a chart of any sort. Plus, I believe it could also be helpful to interpret other methods of fortune telling that uses them, such as tarot cards (Fire for the Wands, Earth for Pentacles, Air for Swords and Water for Cups).

The combination of elements:

Fire + Earth = both determined, persistent and energetic. A combo about turning ideas and passions into something tangible and real. Tends use a no-nonsense and straight-to-the-point kind of approach. A "go big or go home" kind of person. Tends to bite more than they can chew. Usually very looked upon by most people. Thinks they have to carry things singlehandedly on their own.

Fire + Air = both independent, expressive, restless and deattached. Very hard to pin down and always on the move. Tends to look at things from a broader and/or generalized perspective. Likes to put their feet down, speak up to their minds and show their mark to the world. Possibly also hasty, too self-reliant and cut-through. Tends to be afraid of losing independence or their sense of individuality.

Fire + Water = both are temperamental, whimsical but very passionated and organic. Always wants to remain truthful to themselves, follow their instincts and what their heart tells them. Can have a very common touch to them. Could act a lot in the heat of the moments and be too impulsive. More focused on the "now" than on the "tomorrow", for better or worse. Both could also be very self absorbed.

Earth + Air = both are very logical, calm and cold-hard facts oriented. The "see to believe" kind of person. Neither are very openly mushy or passional. Neither likes to say what they really think or how they really feel to most people unless the situation is dire and/or requires reasoning. Both can have a very cynical nature. Always looking out for the outter world. Could overthink a lot.

Earth + Water = both are very nurturing, dependable and reliable. The kind that likes to look out for who they care about. Possibly either really guarded, introverted, hard to get to know or a combination of those. Very picky about certain things or in general. Very slow. Blends in according to their surroundings. Not the type that likes to stand out. Could be lowkey needy or simply be afraid of being on their own for too long.

Water + Air = both are very receptive to people, very ideas oriented and observant. Combines brains and heart. Tends to approach things in a more delicated, roundabout manner. Usually very underestimated by most people for not seeming very active, amongst other reasons. Both can know and see way more than they let on. But they could also be passive, distant, dishonest and/or secretive.

Just remember that these are just a part of how you interpret fortune telling. These are just some personal intepretations AND there are a lot of other factors that can alter them such as the aspects, the signs, modalities, how well developed or underdeveloped they are so these are not set in stone. Plus you're free to correct me if I'm wrong about anything in particular.

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four Chapter 28

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 118k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: In order to save the world from the continuous subjugation and potential annihilation at the hands of Tiandi, hard lines must be drawn. The Great Spirits that were imprisoned ages ago must be unsealed and awakened, no matter the consequences.

The players are divided—those who stand blindly with Tiandi, such as Xiang Merra and her disciples versus those who want to tear the system down and give the power back to the people. Even a few of the most religious Lords change their minds when they learn the truth of the world—that Tiandi is no more than a dictator with no love in his heart.

It is up to the last, real Xiang and the ill-fated Chaaya to put everything they have into tearing God from his throne and creating new possibilities for the future.

Full chapter 28 under the cut

Chapter XXVIII:

They settled in Alf’s hut and Pangu looked between everyone, trying to gauge their current state. Dio and Evie were not especially upset that Gnome had not chosen them but, then again, Viren was reacting quite badly to the Great Spirit so any envy they could have had was immediately lessened.

“Just as long as Viren does not seek to unify Terra under his rule and become a tyrant,” Evie mentioned when the topic was approached, carefully, by Oli.

“He would not,” Pangu assured her. “I know him and I know he might have considered the way he ruled Ultimos to be the best a while ago, however, he has seen more of the world since then. He now understands that the same system cannot work for everyone though I am sure he will be eager to assist others if he can.”

“That was one of his points of negotiation, actually,” Oli picked up, “No matter who Gnome chose, he intended to approach you both with a proposal.”

Pangu already knew of it already since Viren had spoken to him, Baiya, and Kaz about it as he was working out the kinks.

“What sort of proposal?” Dio asked, cautious.

Alf set down cups of tea for everyone, glancing between them with a degree of anxiety. He was clearly expecting the worst. All of them were.

Oli grabbed his cup and held it close, not taking a drink just yet. Instead, he sighed, “Viren wanted to give you complete control of Meala. Even remove the title of Terra from you if that was what you wanted. You could be your own country, rule yourselves, and be left alone.”

Both Dio and Evie leaned forward, no doubt expecting a “but” at any moment.

Then Alf asked, “He would just…let us go? Not try to also be our lord?”

Oli nodded. “He does not wish to enforce his will on anyone and he believes your leadership is strong as it is. He is prepared to write up a declaration of your independence and further treaties to ensure that the sovereignty of your country lasts.”

Evie shook her head. “That is all well for now but what about in the future? He does not intend to have an heir and, Oli, you appear to be headed down the same path. Will you two pick a successor? If so, how can you be sure they will not tear up this documents and attempt subjugation in the future?”

“Dear, the same could be said of us,” Dio replied with a chuckle. “We cannot have children either so our successor will most likely be an adopted child or a hand-picked replacement.”

“Even if heirs were in the picture,” Pangu interjected, “There is no guarantee they would hold the same beliefs as their parents. Honestly, picking a successor who already has similar values is a more logical decision.”

“Beyond that, none of us can say what people will do in the future, when we are gone,” Alf added. He smiled at Oli, “I think the best thing would be for us to be allies for the time being and make our future intentions both clear and appealing for the next generations.”

“That is the sort of optimism I like.” Dio pointed. “I am in! Once we beat back this horrid Xiang, we can fly our own banner.”

The outcome was about as good as it could be so Pangu relaxed. He knew Viren would be thrilled to hear the news and it would take some convincing to get him back to the caves without drafting and filling out the paper work then and there.

***

A distant frog croaking was what woke Viren up and, though it felt as if he had just settled down, he could tell some time had passed based on the amount of light shining in through the flap of the tent. His body weighed more than he was used to and it was a struggle just to turn onto his side.

“Do you feel any better?” Kira’s voice came before Viren spotted him.

He was nearby, within arm’s reach, but he was sitting up straight and clearly had not slept any himself. Not that Viren had expected him to.

“Still tired,” he confessed with a sigh. “It feels as if a boulder is settled in my chest although, all things considered, that makes sense.”

Kira chuckled under his breath. “Gnome did look heavy.”

A moment of silence passed and Viren struggled to move any further. He kept imagining himself sitting up, joining the Terran disciple, and even leaving the tent but, when he attempted to enact any of that, he just continued to lie there. Concerned, he checked that he could still wiggle his fingers and toes. He could but that was about the extent of his abilities.

He sighed again, louder this time, and laced with more frustration. “Can you help me sit up, Kira?”

Without a second of hesitation, there were hands on him and, when enough space came between his body and the ground, Kira slipped his arm around him and hoisted. It was disorienting but Viren was glad when he was upright.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Kira scooted to sit in front of him. “Do you need more time to rest? I can tell Pangu.”

Viren slowly shook his head. “I can rest more in the caves. There is no reason to delay the rest of you.”

But Kira regarded him as if he was looking at a sick animal whose prognosis was grim. His expression only made Gnome feel heavier.

“I am fine,” Viren said, for both of their sakes.

“Of course,” Kira responded, not at all sounding convinced, “Once Gnome is feeling better, you’ll have your energy back too.”

He nodded but then made himself dizzy, having to reach out and grab hold of Kira’s arm to steady himself. Kira, in turn, held him more securely and, before Viren knew it, he was laughing under his breath.

“What?” Kira asked.

“Nothing,” the lord muttered before actually answering, “I had just…I always knew you were kind. It is difficult for me to see you as the horrid menace that Tiandi’s cohorts paint you as when you are so sweet.”

“Not to say they are right about anything, Viren, but I did kill a lot of people.” Kira loosened his grip on him, when he was sure he would not collapse. “Like…probably a hundred or so. Innocent people—just to try to coerce the Princes to come after me. Much of what has been spreading as rumor is, actually, true.”

Viren stared at him for a long moment before saying, “Still, I cannot fault you for any of it. I, myself, had thoughts of revenge that would put my ancestors to shame. While I, obviously, did not act on it, I cannot help but feel that, if I had the power and opportunity that you did, I might have very well tried.” With a sigh, he finished, “But theorizing such things does not change what happened or how. Even if I did find your actions reprehensible, there would be no fixing them. You would be accountable for only what you did from here on out and, so far, you have been a force of great good. For Shakti, for the world, and, personally, for me.”

“You and Pangu should start a club in defense of me,” Kira joked and proceeded to help Viren to his feet. His discomfort with being spoken about, in such a way, was clear so the lord let it go.

They walked, wordlessly, to join the others outside. At the sight of them, Alf made two extra cups of tea. Viren mumbled a soft, “Thank you,” before taking a drink.

“How are you feeling?” Evie asked as she pushed a few stray locks of her pale hair behind her shoulder.

“Better, I think.” Viren smiled. “Still tired but I believe Gnome is also recovering their strength while I sleep.”

Pangu wondered if he could feel the thoughts of Gnome or if he could communicate with them directly. That was a question for later, however.

“Good,” Dio remarked with a wide smile. “I am sure it will remove some stress off of your shoulders to hear that we, the people of Meala, will be assisting you in your upcoming fight.”

Viren’s brow raised and Kira smirked. “Yeah?” the Terran disciple asked.

“The details of our arrangements can be decided after the fact,” the large lord said and nodded. “Let us know when you need us and we will be there.”

“I am very grateful,” Pangu said and tapped along the side of his tea cup. “But, before we go, I do have another issue I need to take care of.”

Everyone glanced to him, either confused or worried.

He stood up and walked to Lord Dio’s side. With his hands outstretched, he asked, “Set your hands on top of mine.”

It then became clear what he was up to—at least for Kira, Viren, and Oli.

Dio followed his instructions and Pangu easily pushed his block open while talking him through the process. Then, he did the same for Evie who was a little more hesitant.

“Now, I cannot stay to train you thoroughly but I can give you a crash course,” he started.

“Actually, Pangu,” Oli interrupted him and raised a finger. “I can stay and teach them.”

“Oli—” Viren was only able to get his name out before his cousin shook his head with a smile.

“Viren, I was planning on staying in Gnoma anyway. I…there is not much for me to do in the caves anymore and, well, I like it here.” His smile started to fall but, when he glanced back to Alf, it came back with a force. “Is that alright…?”

For a second, Viren did not answer. Then he nodded and said, “You do what you want, Oli.”

It felt strange to leave him behind but there were definitely a lot of worries removed from Pangu’s mind by doing so. Dio and Evie’s training, for one, was no longer a concern. Even if Oli had not been the strongest with his resonance, he had paid attention to all of his lessons and he understood the function and behavior of energy well enough.

On the more political side, having Oli stay in Gnoma meant he could continue working out the finer details with the people of Meala personally. He would probably have the first drafts of their paperwork done before the battle.

The only downside was Viren’s worry for his safety. Pangu, personally, was not too concerned. Oli could defend himself if it came down to it and he was surrounded by people they trusted. Those facts would not stop Viren from worrying, however. Pangu knew all too well—Heidi was in a similar situation and it did not stop him from often thinking about her and wondering how she was fairing.

Oli wrapped his arms around Viren’s neck as they said their final farewells. “I am going to miss you.”

“We have spent every day together for…how many years now?” Viren chuckled and patted him on the back.

“At least three years.” Oli sighed.

When they parted, Pangu set his hand on Viren’s back, offering silent comfort. Kira, in the meantime, summoned a portal so that they could hurry back to the others. Already, they had stayed gone for longer than intended so he was sure everyone was curious about the hold ups.

“Goodbye,” Alf said and waved, spurring the others to chime in. Dio’s voice was, by far, the loudest, and Evie stuck to just politely waving.

“See you soon,” Viren all but whispered before he walked through the portal.

It was dark, as usual, but there was no welcoming party like Pangu expected. After last time, he figured the entire populace of the cave system would be standing around, awaiting their arrival with questions. But, perhaps, they had been gone so long that everyone gave up?

As his eyes adjusted, he heard casual chatter. It sounded nearby.

“Those are two eights though,” Ziyi complained.

“Yes and you have zeros.” Raine.

“Zeros are high.”

“In AGNI,” Chandes balked, “Which you aren’t even from.”

“I thought we were playing Agni rules.”

“Do you see anyone from Agni at the table?” Strangely, Gong was the one who responded.

“Oh hey! The guys are back,” May shouted and the sound of chairs scratching against rock and shuffling fabric echoed through the cave just about the time Pangu’s eyes finally adjusted to the darkness.

Everyone except for Baiya, Phay, and Loa were in the room—even Kali sat at the table with a handful of cards. Most everyone stayed sitting but Raine, Kaz, and May ran over.

“Where is Oli?” Ziyi asked before anything else could be said.

“He is staying in Gnoma,” Viren answered and then leaned against Pangu, suddenly and with a bit of force.

Thankfully, Pangu had been ready for him and held him up with an arm. “We should sit.” He did not wait for an answer before helping Viren into one of the chairs.

“What happened?” Kaz asked with a frown.

“Gnome picked him,” Kira explained as he rested a hand on the man’s shoulder, “They were pretty tired so they are resting with him. It’s taking a bit of a physical toll.”

Quite like Kira had, Raine pulled a canteen of water from seemingly nowhere and passed it over. “Here, take this.”

“I am not ill,” Viren responded but took the drink anyway. “Where is Baiya?”

“Right here.” Baiya came from the tunnels and briskly walked closer. “I heard some commotion so I came running. Are you hurt?”

“No.” With a smile, Viren said, “I am fine. Really. What is most important is that we were successful and we only have one Great Spirit to go.”

“That is good news,” Parvati commented, “You all are doing a phenomenal job.”

“Truly,” Devi agreed.

“Mother is sooooo happy,” Chandes announced and threw her fists into the air.

“At this rate, you will be facing your final battle in just a few weeks,” Gong said with a sideways smile as if his words held no gravity. Pangu gulped.

Then his attention was stolen by Kaz asking Baiya, “How is Phay?”

“Still frustrated, mostly.”

“What happened?” Pangu cocked his head to the side.

“When you three,” Baiya said and pointed at him, Kira, and Raine, “Were in Kyrie, Phay tried to work out her arm. Made it worse. She’s been on stricter rest since but, as you can imagine, she is not taking it well.”

“If she would just wait, she would heal,” Fujin mumbled, clearly frustrated at the topic.

“Like you would?” May regarded her skeptically.

Everyone turned their attention away from them, partly because they knew exactly how the fight would play out but also because Shakti entered the room.

“Hello, mother,” Devi greeted.

Shakti gave her a slight nod of acknowledgement but made a straight line for Viren. “Gnome…I sense them. Are they hurt?”

“More like tired,” Kira answered for him.

She lowered herself to look Viren in his eyes. Her hand reached out to him and she touched the center of his chest with a tentative finger. When Viren sucked air through his teeth and recoiled, so did she.

“What happened?” Pangu asked while Baiya and Kaz each took a defensive pose on either side of Viren.

“I am sorry,” Shakti cried out and sunk away, “I did not mean…I am sorry…”

“It is alright,” Viren assured her as well as everyone else, “It was just…I think Gnome was startled. Too excited, even…it is going to take getting used to.”

Kira watched the two with a keener eye. Shakti had not done anything on purpose but he did spot a line of black flow under Viren’s skin, along a vein. Some of her miasma had gotten into him. He rolled his wrist and attempted to draw it out but, either due to it being her miasma or some interference with Gnome, he could not remove it from him.

His heart grew heavy and he looked from the group to Raine. As Shakti left, still apologizing, and Pangu checked on Viren, whispering about having another nap, Kira could only stare at the Kyrie disciple.

After a moment, he noticed. “What?” Raine asked with a hint of a smile.

Kira returned the expression and added a short laugh. “Nothing…want to talk about what all happened?”

“Of course.”

With a hand offered, Raine took it and they excused themselves to their room.

[yellowhollyhock]

3) because the way Raph is always watching his back

Like Raph is always watching everyone's back but it happens a lot with Donny

And I just think a lot about them training as little kids, struggling with different things, filling each other's gaps. All the turtles but these two especially because Mikey is naturally gifted and Leo is obsessed with perfecting all aspects of ninjitsu.

Raph being so quick on his feet and aware of his surroundings because he has such a hard time with planning ahead, probably an auditory processing thing as they all stand around to talk it through and trying to listen to the conversation with all describing instead of pointing makes him feel like his brain is on fire and he'd just rather get started and figure it out as he goes

Donny, relying on someone telling him ahead of time where he should be and when because he can't think on his feet, can't visualize where he is compared to everything else if he doesn't have it all set up in his mind ahead of time, filling Raph in on what he missed as they go with pointing and nodding and sometimes just calling him over. Knowing also Raph is the one he can count in every time to change the plan (which he didn't know anyway) when Donny trips and messes it up

Master Splinter trying everything he can think of to help both of them be more independent only for them to double down. Raph refusing to hear anything about letting Don learn from mistakes during training so that a similar mistake during battle doesn't cost him his life, because Donny will never be in a battle without me and I'm practicing exactly how we'd do it so he doesn't lose his life. Donny nodding along politely as Splinter explains that building a faster set of wheels for Raph to escape more easily isn't a replacement for Raph learning to think before he charges into a dangerous situation to begin with, then happily reporting that he has also procured a helmet and added extra weapons just in case, and is developing a tracking device, so Raphie can go when he needs to go and we'll always be able to find him.

And Splinter just throwing his hands up and instead focusing on teaching them all that they must always stick together still terrified that they will someday find themselves separated and unable to survive because he didn't train them well enough

Giving Donny low proprioception and interoception because 1) it me and 2) they do give him the clumsier moments and I know that’s actually because he’s the machines guy and they had to give him weaknesses, but to me it is because low proprioception, and and and the way his bros reacted in Good Genes to him throwing up on the way to a mission makes me think it happens often that he doesn’t notice when he’s sick until it’s obvious (low interoception). Also because of when he hadn’t slept in days when he was looking for a cure for the underground city people.

Basically I’ve fixated on any kind of clue that Donny has low body awareness because projection. (And plus I think it’s neat because ninjitsu training would help him develop that better, and equally pleases my brain how much it would help him and how much it would still be hard).

Also with interoception. That can also apply to not understanding his body’s response to stress and could relate to difficulty identifying and expressing emotions. So when something crazy happens like, oh idk SAINW, it’s not like he doesn’t realize he’s sad but this would help explain why he never processes (yes I know it’s a kids show but they always let Leo process. Why can’t the other turtles do that). Because once the problem is solved, he’s not focused on it anymore and it could take him a long time to notice, let alone understand why, his heart rate spikes when a weapon gets a little close to Mikey’s arm or Raph’s eye.

[littlepadika]

Calling Home (5) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues…

Rating: E (18+ only)

Warnings: age gap (legal), dilf!frankie, praise kink, voice kink, size kink, low self esteem, discussion of addiction/ptsd/trauma/triggers, divorce drama, no use of y/n, no beta reader, DDLG🎀, unprotected piv sex, oral m and oral f, hickies galore👅, mild BDSM (cuffs⛓, choking).

Masterlist here

AN: Whatta ride... but all things come to an end🥺. i'm blown away by the support for this fic. Thank you all 💕.

Chapter Five

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie had his own mental list of stuff he needed to do before you would arrive. He dunged out his closet to make room for your clothes. It was long overdue. He had a lot of things he didn’t wear anymore that needed to go. He went out and bought some more plates and silverware since his two plates and Rosie’s plastic plates would not do. He no longer looked around his home with a sense of loneliness, now he pictured all the places you could fit in. He could see you reading by the window in the living room so he bought a comfy new chair to put there. He noticed your small plant collection in your apartment and thought you’d maybe like a bigger one in the back yard so he bought a planter box.

He was reading your novel, titled Our Little Kingdom, while your candle burned. You didn't give it to him at first. While you were in the bathroom and Frankie washed your dishes, he noticed a stack of papers poking out in the trash. It was your manuscript. When you came back and saw him reading it you tried to take it back but Frankie insisted and you caved. It was good. Frankie wasn't just saying that because he loved you. He could see how great writers had influenced you and still it was uniquely your voice. The story, too, was compelling. He couldn't help but imagine you as the protagonist as she was just as sweet and clever.

You were making good progress on your list. You had put in your two weeks notice and started to applying to jobs in Miami. You enjoyed working with veterans so you hoped you could do something similar again. As two weeks went by you were disappointed you still hadn't heard back from job interviews. Packing was a little more difficult. You didn’t know what was worth taking and what was worth leaving. You knew Frankie had most everything already so it was a matter of picking your most special things. The rest you were slowing taking to Goodwill in batches.

You had completely forgotten you sent your book in to publishers until a flurry of emails came in on the same day.

Frankie woke up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing. He sat up pulling the phone towards him. It was you. Why would you be calling so late? Maybe something was wrong?

“Frankie?” You sounded congested. He heard a sniffle. Frankie furrowed his brow at that.

“Hey. Is everything all right?”

“ They-they-“ you could barely get it out “they rejected me.”

“Who?”

“All of them. All of the book agencies.” You threw yourself onto your bed, hot tears running down your face.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, sweet pea.” Frankie didn’t know whether to be sad or angry. He thought your book was amazing. He sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp. “They’re idiots. Every one of them.”

“They’re experts, Frankie.” You felt more tears leak from your eyes. “Maybe I’m just not a good writer. Maybe-Maybe-" You hiccuped and low cry slipped from your mouth. You covered your mouth, taking in raking breaths. It was agony to admit this to him when he believed in you most. You felt like you had let him down. Frankie's heart literally ached in his chest as he listened to your quiet weeping over the phone. He waited for you to continue, feeling his own eyes grow misty.

“Don’t disappear on me, little pea. Let me hear that voice of yours.”

You were unable to speak. Scared of what may come out. You felt like your walls were closing in around you and mocking you. How did you ever think you could be a writer like all your favorite authors? You were so stupid, you thought.

“I let you down.” You said shakily.

“No no no, little pea.” Frankie said quickly. “You could never let me down. I don’t need to a book agent to tell me you’re a good writer. I know you’re writing is beautiful and perfect. Just like you.”

His praise caused another wave of tears from you.

“Daddy…” You bawled.

“I hear you, baby.” Frankie heard his own voice shake with emotion. He never hated the distance more than he did in this moment. He needed to wrap you up in his arms. “Close your eyes, sweet pea. Use that big imagination of yours. Pretend I’m there with you.”

“Imagination isn’t good enough, daddy.” You blubbered, fat tears slipping from your eyes.

“I know, baby.” Frankie’s heart was breaking. “But try for me okay?”

You clamped your eyes shut and tried to focus in on his breathing on the other end of the phone. Frankie did the same, closing his eyes.

“Good, sweet pea. Focus on daddy.” He wished he was there to comfort you, wrap you up in his arms and shield you from the cruel cruel world. “I’m next to you. I’m holding you so tight.”

“Hold me tighter!” You begged holding your pillow pet to your chest.

“Okay. I just did.” Frankie whispered closing his eyes as if it would be more real. “Feel that?”

“Yeah…” A moment went by as you steadied your breathing. Tears eventually stopped falling, drying against your cheeks. Frankie’s steady breathing anchored you.

“I loved your book. It was really really good. And fuck it, I’ll publish it myself.” Frankie couldn't help but raise his voice.

“Silly.” You sniffled.

“I’m serious, sweet pea. Who needs those stuck up assholes.”

“Hmm yeah, you’re right.” You agreed, voice softening with sleepiness. You pushed your face into your pillow. You could still smell Frankie if you really focused. "I miss you, Frankie."

"I miss you, too."

"I still haven't heard from any jobs. And- maybe I'm just not good enough and-" You felt more tears fill your eyes.

"Shhh shhh" Frankie interrupted "Listen to me. You are the best. The right thing will turn up i'm sure of it."

"But it's the only thing left on the list!"

"I know..." Frankie pulled over your copy of the list that you wrote for him. He had crossed things off as you reported to him. "Let's see if they get back to you tomorrow." Maybe he was being too hard on you, making you get a job first. He only wanted to put it on there to give you some independence over the move. He didn't want you to feel like you had nothing to do once you got here.

Frankie waited until your breathing evened out. He called your name quietly. When he got no response he assumed you fell asleep. He didn’t want to hang up. He missed you so fucking much and he felt helpless.

When he woke up the next morning, he said goodbye to Rosalia as usual, called in sick, and started driving north. Fuck the list. You were coming home with him now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course Frankie called you telling you he was on his way. You felt bad for making him miss work but your excitement overpowered any guilt. You set a timer for 14 hours and started packing with new energy. Your eyes were still puffy from your tears last night. But you repeated what Frankie said like a mantra. Who needs those stuck up assholes. There were tons of ways to self publish nowadays. It didn’t have to be through a publishing house.

When you ran out of things to clean up and pack, you watched out the window waiting to see Frankie’s blue pick up. You had changed into sleep shorts and a t shirt. While you had a plan to dress more sexy you ended up accidentally packing that surprise in one of the boxes earlier today. It was getting dark when Frankie finally pulled up. He looked exhausted but still… Frankie. He was wearing his favorite hat and grey t shirt. You ran down to the street to meet him. He’s pulling empty boxes from the bed of the truck when he sees you sprinting towards him.

“Sweet pea!” He smiled as you launched yourself into his arms. “Oof.” You buried you face in his shirt inhaling his scent. He rubbed your back affectionately enjoying having you back in his arms. “Aw… it’s okay. It’s okay now.” He murmured when he heard you sniffle. He oddly felt his chest swell with pride at how much you missed him. He never had to worry about how you felt about him. He peeled your head off him by stroking your head. You looked up at him with a watery smile. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

You snickered at his dad phases. “I’m ready. Well… I still have some stuff I need to pack up. Too heavy.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Frankie kissed you chastely. You pulled him in for more though, fisting his shirt in your hands. “Mmm no no. Work first. Play later.” Frankie pulled back. You pouted but have to agree with his logic. The faster you packed the faster you could leave.

Back in your apartment Frankie got to work taking apart your bed and dresser. You finished packing your clothes and dusting.

“Hey what’s this? It was under the bed.” Frankie walked over holding a gift bag with pink tissue paper sticking up.

“Oh…” You quickly grabbed it away. “That’s supposed to be a surprise. For Rosie.”

“You got her a present?” Frankie was touched by your thoughtfulness.

“Yeah I mean… I figured it might make her like me more.”

“She already likes you, but she can never have too many toys.” Frankie stepped further into your space. You realize at that moment how sweaty he was from moving all the furniture. It was so late at night and you were both exhausted but the sudden rush of his thicker smell made you feel wide awake. “Can I see what you got her?”

You handed the package back over, watching him gingerly move the tissue paper to the side. His eyes softened when he saw the pink unicorn pillow pet sitting in the bag. A mini version of yours.

“Am I too presumptuous making us matching? I don’t know if she likes unicorns and-" Frankie cut you off, dropping the bag and kissing you up against the wall. He wasn't even sure what part of that turned him on, just your sweetness and wanting to be a part of his family. He held your face in his hands, his grip forcing your mouth open. You felt yourself start to grow wet. You loved when he just went caveman on you. Sometimes he didn’t have the words to express how much he loved you so he reverted to touch; to deep kisses and deep thrusts. His hands trailed down your exposed legs so he could lift you up on his hips. You held onto his shoulders as he swung you around. The bed was gone, the couch was gone.

"Fuck. Hang on."

You laughed as he ran you out to the kitchen to set you down on the counter. You pawed at his pants trying to undo his belt, but Frankie was faster, unhooking your bra from under your shirt and then pulling your shirt over your head. He took your hand and placed it over his large bulge between his legs.

“Feel what you do to me…” He gritted through his teeth his chest rising and falling sharply.


“Frankie- oh my god-please let me” You pulled he belt loose. At first he stops you. “I didn’t get to last time. Please?” He bit his lip considering your plea. He really just wanted to give and give and give to you. But he had been mean last time, not letting you touch his cock. So this time he doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his pants and pull him out of his boxers. You licked your lips as his cock fell into your hand, curving up towards you.

You hopped off the counter, getting onto your knees before him. “Take off your shirt… please?” He obliged. You kissed down his belly feeling it tighten against your lips. He watched you with fire in his eyes, his mouth slightly parted. You pushed the rest of his pants and boxers down. You stroked him slowly with both hands.

“You have to tell me what you like…” You held his cock and licked a long stripe from the base to the head making him moan weakly. You repeat the motion adding a few kitten licks at the end, lapping up the stray drops of salty precum. Frankie was struggling to think let alone speak. He gripped the countertop above you, his other hand going to the back of your head.

“Just- go slow.” You followed his instructions, slowly taking his length in your mouth. “Good-good girl.” He clenched his jaw staring down at the sight. Your hot mouth felt like heaven and your innocent eyes staring up at him was just the cherry on top. You took his dick as far as you could before you choked lightly. You were by no means an expert at giving blowjobs but you were frustrated you couldn't go further. Your jaw was already aching from his girth.

“Mm don’t hurt yourself, baby.” He hissed unable to hold his hips still, he jerked a little against you making you whine. “Come back up, remember to breathe.”

You slowly pulled off his cock before going down again. Frankie’s hand on your head gently guided you so you didn’t hurt your throat. You added suction, applying pressure on the underside of his cock. You started to find what he liked based on his sounds. You still couldn’t take him all the way in your mouth, tears gathered in corner of your eyes from the effort. Your hand pumped the rest that wouldn’t fit.

“Oh fuck.” Frankie gasped his hips jerking again making his cock slide back into your mouth. You moved one of your hands to his hips looking up at him to say it was okay. “Are you-you want me to fuck your mouth, sweet pea?” You nodded eagerly. You put one of you hands on his length where he wouldn’t fit. He gathered up some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly thrust into your mouth. Like he always did, he waited for you to nod and give him the okay. When you did, he couldn’t help the growl that left his throat. Drool leaked from your mouth onto your chest as he sped up using your head more forcefully. You were sure you had soaked through your panties. It turned you on so much to see him take control, use you for his pleasure, but still his grip on you was firm and gentle. Every grunt went straight to your pussy. “Such a good girl letting me use this hole, too.” He rasped. “You’re crying around my cock.”

“Mmhm” You hummed around his dick making him groan. He was close. He was battering the back of your throat. You could recognize the furrowed brow and the tightening of his balls. You intensified your ministrations.

“Good girl, good-I’m gonna cum in your little mouth.” He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. “Stick out your tongue, sweet pea.” He ordered. You obeyed, watching greedily as he fisted himself harshly the tip of his cock hitting your tongue. You placed your hands on either side of his tummy, anticipating his load. His chest was flush and his eyes were fluttering shut. When he came he yanked your head up harshly as cum splashed onto your tongue. You loved this perspective, watching his face contort with pleasure. You tried to take every drop but some dripped down your chin. “Swallow.” Frankie ordered roughly still maintaining his grip on your head. You swallowed, his warm cum sliding down your throat.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled up at him, wiping some of the stray cum off your chin. He let go of your hair, now stroking your head then your jaw. “Did I do well?”

“So good.” He chuckled and helped you stand, his breath still ragged. You squirmed pressing your thighs together. The move not missed by Frankie. “Did sucking my cock make you wet, sweet pea?”

You nodded shyly before saying “It’s okay though. You don’t have to-it’s late and we have a long drive tomorrow.”

“You’re always looking out for me but what kind of man would I be if I left you all needy. But you have to ask for it, sweet pea.”

“I kinda just want your mouth if that’s okay?” You asked feeling too tired for a full round of sex.

“Of course.” Frankie smiled. “Your mattress is still in the bedroom.” He led you in and helped settle you on the center of the mattress. He pulled your shorts and underwear off, staring at your slick reddened pussy. "You soaked your little panties, sweet pea. Did you touch your little flower while I was gone?" Frankie asked, pulling apart your legs.

"I-I tried to. But it wasn't the same."

"How come, little pea?" His patronizing tone had your cunt clenching. He was teasing you.

"It wasn't your fingers. I needed you." You huffed, trying to push his head down onto you.

"Mmm poor thing." Frankie chuckled, the rich sound giving you goosebumps. He felt his cock start to harden again despite you just sucked the soul out of him moments ago. He slowly licked up your slit moaning at the taste of you. Your head tipped back as he he slowly inserted a finger into you. "Eyes on me." He instructed. You forced your head back down so you could make eye contact. "Play with your tits for me." You obeyed, squeezing the flesh in your hand. He returned to his task, taking your clit in between his lips, quickly escalating your climax. Your hands never stood a chance. He inserted a second finger, curling it against you. They were so thick and long it hit that spot deep inside you it made you gush.

"Oh my god. Daddy-I'm-" You teetered on the precipice your breath caught in your throat. Your entire body erupted in flames as your mouth open in a silent scream. Frankie's eyes widened as your pussy strangled his fingers before fluttering uncontrollably. Your cum dripped onto his hand, he quickly replaced his fingers with his tongue trying to catch it all.

"That's it." He felt you finally take a shaking inhale. "Breathe, sweet pea. Breathe." Exhaustion hit you hard as every muscle relaxed.

"I'm sleepy..." You slurred.

"It's okay. You can go to sleep." Frankie leaned up kissing you, smearing your slick all over your mouth. He returned to licking your pussy less aggressively though. "I got you."

You nodded before drifting off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you dump the last of your stuff at goodwill, packed the truck, turned in your key, and hit the road. You were bouncing in your seat with excitement. You hadn’t ever traveled south of DC. The landscape was beautiful. You and Frankie took turns driving, belting Fleetwood Mac on repeat. You forced Frankie to take obligatory selfies to remember the journey at rest stops or whenever the view was worthy. Over halfway to Miami you paused at a rest stop for a quick nap. Frankie was anxious to get you home and he didn’t want to stay put for too long. He was used to long drives and quick naps, but you weren’t. He didn’t want to exhaust you because there was so much he wanted to show you when you arrived. You laid across the backseat of the truck with your head in Frankie’s lap as the sun was going down.

In the early morning Frankie finished the drive. His own excitement increased when he was back in the city. You had your head nearly sticking out of the window looking at everything. You couldn’t believe how sunny and warm it was here. Frankie turned down a residential street. “Almost there.” He said. You buzzed in your seat.

Frankie made one last turn into a driveway. You instantly got warm feelings looking at the house. It was painted seagull grey with white trim. It was wonderfully symmetrical with two windows on the first and second floor with window boxes outside the first floor window. The front yard was nicely mowed.

“Your house is so cute!” You hopped out of the car, your legs enjoying the chance to stretch. The air smelled slightly salty being so close to the beach. The sun felt wonderful on your skin. You could have laid down in the grass and just fallen asleep.

Frankie showed you around his house with your hand in his, pointing out random things of importance in his giddy state. You followed him around with bright adoring eyes. Despite looking forward to this moment for a while, you barely looked at anything except for him. You could care less about where the tile for the fireplace came from. You didn’t remember Frankie’s story about how Will messed up his back moving in Frankie’s couch in because it was hitting you over and over again that you were home with Frankie. You didn’t pay attention to the story behind Rosie’s crib because Frankie was here with you. His warm hand holding you close like you may disappear. He was here with that damn cute excited voice as he showed you around his home, soon to be your home.

“Sweet pea? Earth to sweet pea?”

“Hmmm?” You smiled apologetically. Standing in the kitchen, the sun pouring in from the window above the sink bathed Frankie in golden light making him look ethereal.

“I said- we should start moving boxes in before it gets dark.”

“You haven’t shown me everything yet.” You realized.

“What did I miss?”

“Your room…” You swung your entwined hands back and forth.

“Our room, sweet pea.”

“So I won’t be sleeping on the floor?” You laughed.

“Never.” He kissed you briefly. “I just haven’t cleaned up in there and I need to make some space for your stuff and-“

“Frankie.” You quiet his rambling with another kiss. You couldn’t stop kissing him. “Your house is immaculate. That’s the room I want to see.”

He swallowed harshly before he led you up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to his room. While showing you the garden and the other rooms he was giddy but now he seemed more flustered. When you opened the door you could see why. Your candle was sitting on his bedside table. It was the first thing you saw when you walked in.

You immediately break away from him, going to inspect his bedside table. Glimpses of Frankie that made you love him all the more. Your candle, your books, your list, his sergeant pin, and an old alarm clock.

“Was this what you’re so embarrassed about?” You asked picking up the candle. It was almost used up. He averted his gaze. The back of his neck bright red which you recognized as a sign of his nervousness. “Frankie…” You set it down and took both his hands in yours. You couldn’t even convey what it meant to you. He had missed you that much that he burned your candle.

“I have the real thing now.” He said pulling you against his chest, dragging his nose over your cheek in reverence. You hummed in contentment. “This is our room, sweet pea. Our home.” He whispered.

“Our bed.” You added moving his hands to rest on your ass, wrapping your own around his neck.


“Eager girl.” He tutted, kissing just below your ear, squeezing your ass lightly.

“I can’t help it. I’ve waited so long, Frankie.” You tilt your head up resting your forehead against his.

“You’ll never have to wait again, princesa pea. I’m here.”

“Then I want you now.” You tugged him towards the bed. Falling down onto his comforter you were hit by a puff of his scent. Laundry detergent, old spice, and that indescribable musk that was Frankie. You barely got a chance to enjoy it before Frankie is falling on top of you. You laughed as he pulled you up the bed until you’re against the pillows. He's about to rip your clothes from you but-

“Wait wait- I have a gift for you.” His eyes lit up.

“Frankie…” You smiled “You didn’t have to get me anything.” He pushed away from you, walking over to his dresser. He pulled out a small package.


“Here.” He handed it to you.

You sat up. You felt guilty you didn’t get him a gift. You slowly peeled back the tape trying to save the paper. It was wrapped so nicely.

“Come on, rip it up. It’s just paper.”

“No… I wanna save it.” You argued, pulling it open finally. You stared down at the contents in your lap. It was a book with a pink cover and loopy writing. Our Little Kingdom. “Frankie… this is- this is my book.” You felt your eyes swim with tears.

“I know.” Frankie knelt in front of you. “I read it and it was so good. I wanted to get it bound. I was serious when I said want to publish it. I want to make it happen. But if you don’t want to at least we can enjoy it how it’s meant to be enjoyed.”

You flipped through the pages smelling the fresh paper. You reached the end and noticed Frankie had slipped in something as a book mark. It was a torn half of a check. “This is…”

“The check I tore up. I use it as a bookmark so I thought you would-“

You launched yourself at Frankie, a habit you learned from him when words were just simply not enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up, you were surrounded by Frankie’s scent, warm sun hitting your face. Frankie wasn't there. You heard movement downstairs. You threw on the first shirt of Frankie's you could find. You practically skipped down the stairs, heart leaping when you saw Frankie in his PJ pants and nothing else sitting at the kitchen table. His body was lit up in the morning sun, he looked like a goddamn dream. He was shoveling some cereal into his mouth but he stopped when he noticed you. He still looked so sexy to you in this moment, his strong arms and big hand gripping the small spoon. His chest littered with small hickies you made. You blinked a couple of times wanting to imprint this image into your brain forever.

“What are you doing up so early?”

“The sun woke me up!”

“Shit. I would have made you some breakfast or something.”

“That’s okay.” You smiled going to stand in front of him. You kissed him, licking some of the milk from his lips. Your hands rested on his bare golden shoulders. You loved how wide they were and how solid and warm they felt.

“Mmm is this mine, sweet pea?” He tugged at the Fleetwood Mac shirt hanging down to your thighs.

“No, it’s another boys.” You teased.

“Don’t joke about that, little pea.” Frankie warned with a small swipe to your ass.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You giggled. “I was only joking. No one else has cool shirts like you.”

“You want some cereal? I can also make eggs or pancakes or-“

“I want-” You slipped your hand over his pants. You could feel his slightly hard cock sitting below. “This.”

“You already had some last night and you still want more?” Frankie groaned his thighs spreading further around you. “I thought you’d be sore, sweet pea.”

“I am.” You admitted kissing him quickly. “but I still want you.”

“Mmm…” Frankie pulled your hand away watching you pout. “I think you need to eat something first.”

“No I don’t!”

“Come on, I’ll let you sit on your special seat.” He tapped his thigh. You debated this. You decided to do what he asked, not wanting to test your luck so early in the day. You hopped up on his lap wiggling back until his semi hard cock was pressed against your back. Your thighs sitting over his legs, your pussy peaking out from his shirt. Frankie rested his big hands on your bare thighs rubbing the skin back and forth. You closed your eyes enjoying his touch. You could feel his breath against your neck as he looked down at the sight.

“Do I look good on my special seat, daddy?” You asked looking up at him.

“Perfect, my little pea.” Frankie smiled. He pulled the cereal over and you popped a bite in your mouth. You didn’t normally like cereal but since Frankie asked…

“Okay, done. I’ve eaten.”

“Woah I hardly call that eating.” Frankie shook his head. He placed a hand on your stomach, fingers splayed out over the entire width almost. He applied a little pressure which had you squirming again. God his hands were so big and warm just above where you needed him. “I can feel little rumblings telling me you’re hungry, sweet pea.” You rock against him more intentionally making him catch his breath.

“Not for cereal.” You bit your lip.

“One more bite, sweet pea. For daddy?” He rubbed his beard into your neck which never failed to make you to laugh.


You took another spoonful of the soggy cereal before looking up at him for approval. He chuckled as you chewed quickly. You looked so cute with your cheeks full. It made cock ache.

“Good job, sweet pea.” He smirked when you swallowed it all. He lowered his hand down to cup your pussy which was already dripping. You hand flew to his thick forearm.

You melted against him as he rubs your clit slowly. Last night was hurried and desperate but now it was like he had all the time in the world. You listened to him take large inhale against your neck, smelling you.

“You look so beautiful, sweet pea. In my shirt. In our kitchen.”

“Fuck…” You moaned. His fingers felt so wonderful and thick against you. You fucking loved the sound of that. Ours.

“I’m gonna fuck you on our table.”

He lifted you up with ease, pushing your back down on the table. The sun coming through the window bathed your body in soft light. You looked divine. Frankie had your legs spread wide, tongue on that pussy before you could even blink. “Holy shit. Daddy!” Your hands clenched into fists at your side.

“Sweet pea.” Frankie pulled off, lips wetted by your slick. You blushed under his hot gaze. “Why don’t you pull my hair?”

You whimpered as he took your little fist and put it in his beautiful locks. “I want to but… the last person I was with didn’t like it.” You turned your head to the side trying to hide your embarrassment. His hair felt like silk in your hands.

“Hey-“ Frankie gently grabbed your chin and turned you to look at him. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.” He was leaning over you, invading all your senses, but of course the aspect that hit you hardest was his voice. Soft and reassuring. That rich baritone that made you fall in love in the first place. “Pull my hair, baby, I wanna know how well I treat this pussy. You won’t hurt me.”

You nodded feeling your eyes wet with tears. His affection never ceased to shock you. He kissed you, softening your worried look with each stroke of his tongue. When you were relaxed, he returned to your pussy. He was a fast learner for the times, applying the pressure you needed with his tongue while hitting that spot inside your walls with his fingers. Your hands were laced in his soft hair tugging almost unconsciously.

“Fuck-Daddy" You gasped feeling your breath. Your stomach tightened but you still felt like you weren't quite to your breaking point. "I can't- I need- I need-"

"What, sweet pea, what do you need?" Frankie paused, looking at you struggle above him. You grabbed his hand which was holding your hip and moved it to your throat. "Holy shit." Frankie's eyes widened.

"I need you to push me over-" you struggled to think of how to explain it but Frankie started applying light pressure over your throat making your cunt tighten around his fingers. The strain on your airway finally brought you to the edge. He returned to your clit and didn’t let up even as your walls clamped and gushed around his fingers. Didn’t stop as your back arched off the table, your toes curled, and your hands pulled his hair almost painfully. He let go of your throat when you tapped his wrist and your breath returned ragged and sharp, extending your orgasm. You brushed some of Frankie’s hair from his forehead and he looked up, making eye contact, as his lips suckled on your clit lightly. You didn’t say anything for a moment, feeling your body come down from that peak, basking in Frankie’s loving gaze between your legs. You felt boneless.

“I love you.” You murmured. Frankie surged up, capturing your lips in a wet kiss. He pulled back and kissed the happy tears falling from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“I love you, too. I’m never letting you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m home.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, needing to feel that promise inside you. Needing his promise filling you up.

“Are you sure you’re not too sore?”

“I’m sure.” You ran your hand through his hair, now addicted to the feeling of it.

Frankie slowly eased himself into your pussy. It was harder without lube. You winced a little once he was fully inside. Fuck he was so big.

"Am I hurting you?" Frankie felt bad and started to pull out.

"No please." You arched your back trying to hold him inside. "I'm okay. I want- I want-."

"Sweet pea..." He bit his lip as he struggled to resist thrusting into you.

"And if I can't walk- then you can carry me." You wiggled your hips. Frankie couldn't help but laugh at that not that he minded carrying you around. "Please, daddy." You asked one last time as you dug your heels into his lower back. Frankie placed his hands on your waist and started fucking into you slowly, withdrawing almost all the way out before thrusting back in again.

“I’m so proud of you… taking my cock like a good girl.” He kissed you softly, moving to kiss a train down your neck to your nipples and back up. "You're home now." You nodded in agreement. "This is our little kingdom, sweet pea.” Your shallow breaths slowly transformed into moans. You felt your muscles relax a little and signaled he could start moving faster.

Needless to say the cereal on the table shook and spilled as he fucked you. Spilled milk on your table. His cum spilled inside you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankie enjoyed hosting so much since Rosie’s birthday he wanted to have a Fourth of July barbecue. With your help he took the decorations to the next level. Hanging fairy lights over the patio, and renting a bouncy castle for the kids. In an act of irrational niceness, you had said it was okay if Laura came by, that way Rosalia would be there too.

Frankie was clear he had no desire to hide you. He wanted to show you off. Still, you dreaded meeting Frankie's ex. Rosalia had warmed to you quickly even preferring you to hold her. You already loved her so much. Today she wanted you to follow her everywhere and watch her play. Frankie was stuck behind the grill but he still could watch his girls playing. You were wearing a lovely red sundress which Frankie was looking forward to stripping off. It brushed your thighs in the breeze and it was perfect height for Rosalia to tug on when she wanted to be picked up.

“You’ve done a great job with the decor.” Laura appeared at Frankie’s side.

“Thanks.” Frankie smiled tightly. Her surprised tone confirmed that she always underestimated him.

“You’ve been happier lately.” Laura studied Frankie.

“I guess.” Frankie shrugged turning one of the hot dogs for something to do.

“It just has me remembering the old days. Before everything with you happened.” Frankie prickled at that last statement. Everything with you. She always put it on him totally forgetting how she also made things worse.

“Frankie?” You appeared at his other side, eyeing Laura warily and doing little to hide your dislike. You had seen from yards away how Frankie tensed up, looking down. You wouldn’t let that slide so you went over. Finally removing your glare from his ex wife you look up at him, laying a reassuring hand over his forearm. “Uh- people are getting hungry. How soon until it’s done?”

“It’s ready now.” Frankie smiled down at you, instantly feeling more at ease. His answer let you know he was okay.

“Great I’ll wrangle everyone.” You smiled before darting back to the crowd.

“Who is that?” Laura frowned. “Someone's babysitter?”

“No.” Frankie shut off the grill facing his ex wife face to face. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Laura sounded skeptical. “She’s 12.”

“She’s a woman.” Frankie corrected her. “A woman I love very much.” He wasn’t going to listen to anyone look down on you.

“You should have talked to me before you brought her around Rosie.” Laura huffed, putting a hand on her hip.

“You had no problem parading your boyfriends around during our divorce.” Frankie shot back quickly looking to make sure they couldn’t be heard. “It’s in the court records so I doubt you want to bring it up.”

“Frankie…” Laura seemed to regret what she said.

“Let’s just… move on.” Frankie said as people started to draw near.

“Papa!” He heard Rosie squeal, toddling towards him.

“Rosie!” He picked her up, his anger instantly melting away. “Ready for your hot dog?”

As Frankie and the others started filling up their plates Laura crept closer to you as you were cleaning up some of the kid’s mess by the pool.

“Excuse me. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Laura.” She extended her hand. She was taller than you. Her face was tight as if she was holding in her sneer.

“Hi.” You decided to be nice, shaking the woman’s hand. You introduced yourself.

“So… you and Frankie. “

“Yes.”

“How long has that been going on?”

“A few months.” You said keeping it vague.

“And it’s going well?”

“Yes.” You grew annoyed by her vague questioning. Obviously it was going well since you were here. Her eyes were the total opposite of Frankie's. Hard and cold and icy blue. You quietly thanked god that Rosalia had inherited Frankie's eyes.

“Hmm he’s not doing that crazy thing anymore?”

“What thing?” You frowned.

“Well one time while we were together he stayed up the whole night because he thought some criminal or something was after us.” Laura laughed cruelly. You wanted to slap her for her lack of sympathy. What was funny about Frankie’s fear? “The psychiatrist said there would be delusions but that was just too much.”

“I think I’ve heard enough.” You snipped, trying to keep at least a polite facade. There were people just a few feet away. You prayed the couldn’t hear.

“Hey I’m sorry.” She schooled her features. “Don’t think I’m cruel. It wasn’t easy being with someone like that. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“Thanks for that. I think I'm good though.” You finished picking up the last pool toy and walked away before Laura could say more. You wanted to turn back and say something mean but you were determined to be the bigger person. You didn’t want to start drama that would hurt Frankie and Rosalia. You spent a good minute in the garage after putting the toys back, positively fuming.

“Sweet pea?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts, joining you in the garage. “Aren’t you hungry?”

"I was just cleaning up.” You said though your hands were empty.

“I saw Laura talking to you.” He watched you warily. Fear lapped at him. What did Laura tell you...“Everything okay?”

“She just… a bitch.” You huffed. Your word choice made Frankie burst out laughing. “I’m sorry I know you married her but how? She’s awful and rude and judgmental.”

“I know.” Frankie quieted his laughter, pulling you into his chest. “It wasn’t meant to last.”

“Because she’s a bitch.” You grumbled into his chest making Frankie laugh again. His tummy bounced against yours with his laughter. You loved it. You thought again about what Laura said. How cruel she had been in the face of Frankie’s PTSD. “If she says one more rude thing I may have to smack her.”

“You’re hot when you’re possessive, you know that?” Frankie smiled tickling your sides. “Come on, we should get back before our guests start to notice.”

“Alright.” You agreed, taking his hand and following him out of the garage. You felt Laura’s eyes on you two when you came back to the yard. Frankie got your burger set up for you before doing his. It’s the simple things that got you going; how giving he is. You tried to hide your blush from the onlookers as Frankie asked you ketchup or mustard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once everyone went home you and Frankie laid out a blanket in the back so you could watch the fireworks happening on the beach a mile away. He was quiet, at least more than he usually is. You didn’t know what to say to reassure him so again you reverted to touch. You placed your hand on his thigh reassuringly.

“Frankie?” You turned to him. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“No.” He seemed taken aback by your question.

“Okay.” You moved closer to him until you were tucked into his side.

“You mean about Laura.” Frankie said after a moment. “Just- she didn’t say anything to you to make you upset right? She doesn’t get under my skin anymore. I don’t want her to get under yours.”

“She didn’t get under my skin.” You replied. She said nothing to make you insecure, just make you angry at her is all. “I’m just protective of you, you know. It seems like she was awful to you.”

“It’s fine.” Frankie shrugged.

“No.” You moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. “It’s not. You came back from your deployment probably in need of some comfort and all she gave you was judgment."

“She told you about that night.” Frankie hung his head in humiliation. You didn’t deny it. You didn’t want to upset him but part of you knew he should talk about this. Laura shouldn’t be the only one who holds this memory over his head. “It was my first night back. I just- I swore I heard gunfire. I was freaking out. I was probably acting really scary. I thought they came for me and she-Laura called the cops on me.”

“How could she…” You teared up on behalf of Frankie.

“I ran.” He continued, his voice thick. “I stayed a Will’s and calmed down. That was the end of the marriage.” He rubbed up and down your thighs under your dress. It always comforted him. You tried to think of what to say. His wife, the person who was supposed to love him the most, ostracized him and criminalized him.

Frankie was anticipating you to be afraid of him or push him away, but to his surprised you pulled him into a hug, holding his head against your neck like he was a child. He felt a sob rise in his throat and tears wet his eyes. You were so... kind. It was something he was still learning to accept and realize he deserved .

“You’re right.” You took a breath to relax yourself. “It doesn’t matter what she says. You’re mine now. Not hers.” You kissed Frankie on his nose then kissed his mouth.

“Always, sweet pea.” He rubbed his thumb over the area of your brow that furrowed in residual anger.

“I just wish there were some way…” you chewed your lip. “I have these-“ you pulled his dog tags out from where they hung between your breasts. “Reminds me I’m yours.”

“Maybe I need a necklace too.” Frankie smiled squeezing your thighs. That got you thinking…

“Can I try something?” You asked. Frankie nodded looking amused. You tugged at his shirt pulling it over his head. You never got over how broad he was. His toned arms were flexed holding himself up. You leaned forward planting a wet kiss on Frankie’s neck where it met his shoulder.

“Mmm gonna mark me up?”

You nodded and sucked harder till you were satisfied it would leave a mark. Pulling back you admired the red blooming where your mouth had been. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it did but you loved that he had a physical mark from you. He had scars here and there from cross fire and stab wounds. Some he wouldn’t go into detail. You loved them all but for once you wanted him to have a mark born out of love.

“I’m gonna give you a necklace, daddy.” You murmured tracing the path you would forge, down and around to the other side of his neck. You were gonna make hicks all around his neck like a chain. You leaned back down and planted another mark below and slightly to the right.

“Holy shit.” Frankie groaned, tilting his head back. He felt his cock start to harden under your attention. You slowly made your way across his hot skin until you had seven little wet hickies starting to show through the skin. You traced them with your finger, connecting the dots.

Frankie looked down, watching in fascination. His dog tags were a bittersweet thing, symbolizing his commitment to the military, but you wanted them. You wore them proudly, giving him more closure than 100 hours of therapy. But this... this new chain on his skin represented his belonging to you. “Beautiful, baby girl. Thank you.” He kissed you sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You pulled away before he could deepen it. You start to lean down again like you were going to plant another hickie on him. He pushed you back and rolled the both of you over.

“Daddy! I wasn’t done yet.” You wiggled against the soft blanket.

“No it’s daddy’s turn now.” He pushed the straps of your dress down your arms, tugging your neckline down.

“But I already have a necklace.” You felt Frankie’s dog tags lying in your cleavage.

“Now you’ll have two. I spoil my girl like that.” Frankie teased. He kissed up and down your neck before settling on his starting place. When he started sucking it sent a lightning bolt straight to your clit. You gasped. You could feel him hard against your thigh, not fully yet. You rocked your hips impatiently, clutching his head against you.

“Be patient, baby.” He warned, pausing his work. You stilled your hips with a pout. “Good girl.” He resumed. You wanted to be naughty but you knew you’d never win that fight. Problem was you were loving his attention on your neck so much you couldn’t help but start grinding against his leg again. Your hand reached down and tried to stroke his hardening cock. Frankie pulled back, his lips swollen from giving you hickies. He was only halfway around your chest now.

“You’re being naughty…” Frankie chided, lightly slapping your hand away from him. You continued squirming under his gaze though you at least look apologetic. Frankie pulled away. “You don’t want your necklace?” Frankie pretended to be hurt.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You turned on the puppy dog eyes. “Just- your mouth feels so good.”

“If you’re not gonna behave I’m gonna have to make you behave.” Frankie’s mouth curled into a smirk. Your stomach flipped around in excitement. “Sit back up on your knees.” He ordered. You eagerly sat up on your knees, placing your hands on your thighs. Your dress hung around your waist. Frankie stood up and started undoing his belt. You got excited thinking he was going to let you suck his cock but instead he just pulled his belt from his pants and knelt down again. “Remember just say stop if you want to stop.” Frankie reminds you.

You nodded your eyes dilating, staring at the leather in his hands.

“Hands behind your back, baby.” He instructed. You obeyed your knees widening subconsciously. He tied his belt around your wrists. It’s not tight enough to hurt but you certainly could not move your hands without really trying. Frankie licked his lips, staring down at your vulnerable position. “Good little sweet pea.” He cooed. “Now you won’t be able to be naughty. What do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” You whispered feeling your cheeks burn at the depravity of your position. The smooth leather of his belt rubbed against your pulse point and Frankie’s smell filled your nose. You’re out in the open. Sure there was a fence but it still heightened your arousal. You were dripping you were sure of it. He knelt before you again to finish his hickies. He held your hair pulling it back to give himself more room.

You tried to lift up your arms multiple times but got stopped by the belt. You whined as he sucked another mark into you and you couldn’t get any stimulation in this position. Frankie let you moan and whine for him but he didn’t stop his mission. He finally pulled back, his hooded eyes evaluated at his work.

“Look at it, baby.”

You looked down at the curved line of hickies running from collarbone to collarbone. “Thank you, daddy, for my necklace. I love it so much.” You looked at his chest. You were matching now. Your lust was momentarily paused as a fresh wave of adoration washed over you. It was so much deeper than sex. Frankie noticed your change in expression and kissed you softly, bringing you back to the moment.

“You sat still for me so good. Now you can ask for what you want.” He strokes your hair softly.

“I wanna-I wanna suck you cock please?”

“Are you sure?” Frankie smiled. “You don’t want my mouth on you or-"

“No.” You shook your head. The emotions swirling in you from lust to love made you hungry for one thing. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

“Fuck.” He groaned before kissing you hard, licking into your mouth. He never had someone as giving and kind and protective of him as you. He could have cried but there was no need because you were his forever. No yearning just living. He reached around to pull off the belt but you stopped him with a small voice.

“Leave it on.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Frankie stood quickly. You sat up further, your hands still restrained behind your back. Your head was tilted up at him, your dress bunched around your waist, it was the most beautiful fucking sight.

Red blue and white fireworks dazzled the sky above. He picked you up bridal style and carried you inside as quickly as he could while you giggled in delight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things started clicking into place like you were growing along some metaphorical ladder. You were finally where you needed to be. You got a job working at the VA in Miami, running their re-entry program. A small publishing house in Miami loved your book and agreed to publish it for a short run. Frankie took some money out of the Colombia account to cover the rest of the contract. Frankie had the book for sale at the shop pushing it on anyone who would enter. He was so proud of you. And that was all that mattered to you.

Frankie unironically planted sweet pea in the garden, telling you how they are slow to grow, but their delicate flower and sweet smell is worth the wait; just like you. Sweet peas were climbers, with the right support, they would bend to any shape. You knew you could go as high as the sky with Frankie by your side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @floraandfrost @agingerindenial, @heythere-mel, @icanbeyourjedi, @linnie0119, @pedrosmustache, @thisshipwillsail316, @peterhollandkait, @leias-rebelion, @phoenix-of-loki, @prettypedros, @kennedywxlsh, @punkerthanpascal, @the-witty-pen-name, @twentyfirstcenturyfox, @madslorian, @sarahjkl82-blog, @bison-writes, @lightning-fast54, @maievdenoir, @nicolethered, @kenoobiwan, @danniburgh, @janebby, @dihra-vesa, @yespolkadotkitty, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @headinthestarz, @tanyaherondale, @christina-loves, @dobbyjen, @fangirl-316

[atticsandwitch]

Obey me characters with an MC who does reckless things because they're afraid of being a burden.

Self indulgent, comfort, angst Less headcannons, more drabbles.

First, in a group chat without MC: House of Lamentation (7) Satan: I just found MC in the kitchen, trying to open a can with a chef knife. Mammon: WHAT Mammon: Why would they wanna do something like that?? Asmo: (Wide eyed emoji) Belphie: Yea, that's stupid even for Mammon Mammon: HEY! Satan: They couldn't find the can opener, and they said they didn't want to bother anyone. Levi: That's actually kind of cute. Levi: It's just like the main character of this anime I just started watching who acts really tough and independent, but deep down is afraid to ask for help and just wants to be loved! Satan: That's not all Lucifer: it's not? Satan: Solomon saw MC yesterday climbing the bookshelves in the RAD library. Satan: Apparently they'd reached the sixth shelf before he could levitate them and the book they needed back to the ground. Beel: Are all humans like this? Lucifer: No. It seems we've found a particularly troublesome one. Levi: Actually I saw them do something similar earlier this week. Asmo: Oh no. Asmo: I bet Mammon's having a heart attack rn Mammon: (sweaty nervous emoji) Levi: They were standing on the counter trying to reach something on the top of the cabinets waaaay in the back. Belphie: That's not that bad Levi: They were also standing on an upside down pot because they were still too short. Levi: and they were wearing heels. Lucifer: Everyone, make sure to keep an eye on MC as often as possible

Lucifer

Sighs out loud reading the group chat

"And here I thought I would just have to protect MC from demon attacks"

He decides to have a talk with you once he gets a little time, and not just about safety. He has a whole lecture planned out about climbing the book cases at RAD.

Unfortunately he's swamped with paperwork and bills to go through, so he doesn't have the chance to talk to you right away.

The next day, however, you're all invited to the Demon Lord's Castle for another overnight retreat, or event of some sort.

Everyone is having fun and causing a ruckus, as usual, and at some point during the evening the group loses you.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, but the palace is so huge you get lost even with directions. At a certain point you know you can find your way back and ask for help, but you can't bring yourself to, and decide to press on to try to find it yourself.

Eventually you find yourself standing in front of an ornate mirror with no reflection. You stop and ponder it for a moment, and as you're about to step away you hear a whisper. You can't make out what it says, but it compels you to step closer. In a corner of the reflected room you notice what looks like a puppet made of bone, with blackened eyes.

"~MC~..." An ethereal whisper, "...c...l...oser..." and in a blink of your eye it's closer to you, and you've stepped closer without realizing it.

Your heart is racing, but you can't stop yourself from reaching out to the mirror. Is it really a mirror...? Another blink and the bone puppet is closer. It tilts it's head at you, and outstretches an arm.

You try to pull back, but realize you can't, you're now mirroring the actions of the puppet as it steps closer, and closer.

Suddenly your vision goes black and you're pulled backwards by the waist, away from the mirror.

After a moment, Lucifer removes his gloved hand from over your eyes, and spins you to face him. He looks worried, frightened almost, but soon regains his composure.

"I thought you were going to the bathroom, MC" He says

It takes you a second to form words again, "I... I was.... I got lost" You had to really think hard about it for a moment.

Lucifer sighs, "You know the castle can be dangerous. If you weren't sure where to go, why not ask someone to show you?"

You were feeling particularly vulnerable after what had just happened, and so decided to be deeply honest, "I'm afraid of being a burden..." you mumble.

He's surprised by the admission, but pulls you close.

"Of all the burdens I've had to shoulder in this life, I promise that you are not one of them, MC" He whispers into your hair as he kisses the top of your head.

Mammon

Immediately goes to find you after he finishes reading the group chat.

He finds you doing something dangerous with a knife again, and grabs your wrist to stop you.

"Oi, human!" He only calls you that when he's angry, which is rare, "What do ya think yer doin'?"

"I'm just-" he cuts you off

"I don' wanna hear it!"

"Then why did you ask?" you're stare at him. Mammon's face reddens and he realizes he's still holding your wrist, so he gently takes the knife out of your hand and sets it down.

"I mean- What's goin' on with ya lately? Everyone says yer doin' a buncha dangerous stuff!" He put his hands on his hips and only resumes eye contact as he finishes his sentence.

"What do you-?"

"Like climbin' bookshelves, and whatever this is-!" He gestures to the knife and you look away. You're silent for a while; too long for Mammon to take, "C'mon, MC, talk to me" His voice finally softens, arms dropping to his sides. You finally meet his eyes, and the look of concern on his face is heartbreaking.

"I like doing things myself..." you can tell he's not buying it, "I... I just don't want to be a burden..." You admit quietly, voice wavering somewhat.

His eyes go wide, "...MC..." he says softly. Mammon pulls you in for a tight hug, one arm wrapping around your shoulders, and the other hand resting on the back of your head, and holds you like he'd do anything in the world to protect you, which he would.

"Listen up, 'cuz Mammon's gonna give you some free advice" you hear a sniffle, and realize he's crying.

His human was hurting like this, and he never even noticed. What kinda demon am I? He thought, but he knew this wasn't about him right now, so he held you tighter.

"You will never be a burden to me...Ya got that?"

Leviathan

Thinks its pretty adorable that you actually seem to be a little tsundere.

Because of this, and his social anxiety, he doesn't confront you about it right away. Not until the jellyfish incident anyway.

One night you're hanging out with Levi in his room, when you notice that one of his jelly fish decorations had fallen to the ground. So, you decide to string it back up for him.

You looked around, Levi absorbed in his game, and tried to judge the distance between the edge of the bed-tub and the ceiling. That should do it! you think, and climb the edge of the bed-tub. The edge was difficult to balance on, but you knew you'd be careful, and you could almost reach.

Levi turned around just in time to see you, arms stretched too far over your head and on your tip toes on the edge of the tub, and watched as you lose balance completely. He saw it, you were going to fall backwards toward the other side of the tub and crack your head!

Now, he may not be as fast as Mammon, but he is still a demon after all, and just as you felt the jolt of the fall as your foot slipped, you felt arms around your middle, pulling you forcefully forward.

Leviathan had jumped to your rescue, unconsciously changing into his demon form, discarding his controller unceremoniously to the floor, and in his panic underestimated his own strength.

The two of you ended up both landing on the floor, you on top of a very red Leviathan.

"Wh-wh-what were you doing normie?! You were about to fall and crack your skull on the tub!"

You guiltily hold up the jellyfish, "I was just trying to fix it"

"Well get a ladder next time!" It's taking everything in Levi to ignore the position your both in, because its' just like that time in- nevermind, this is more important.

"All you had to do was say something! I was sitting right there!" He still hasn't let you go. He sees the look on your face change into something he can't quite get a read on, but whatever it is, is also full of sadness. "You could have died just then, MC. Why wouldn't you just ask for some help?" His voice is softer, "I was right there" and softer still, almost desperate.

"I..." He could tell whatever you were about to say was difficult for you, "I'm just so afraid of being a burden"

He's heartbroken, "You're my best friend, my player two, my Henry th-the- the person I love" He goes red again and quickly continues as if to bury the words beneath more words, "You're a lot of things, MC, but you're not a burden"

Asmodeous

Worrying is bad for the skin. Worrying is bad for the skin. Worrying is bad for the skin. But he can't help it.

One night you get home particularly late, and none of the brothers have seen you. They were about to send out a search party when you finally came home.

When he finds out you walked home alone again, and were so late because you got lost, that's when he finally decides to confront you.

"You walked home alone again? And took WHICH street?! MC don't you know how dangerous it is for a human in the Devildom, especially one with no real magical powers? Not to mention in that area!"

How were you supposed to know? You were lost. He knows these things, but doesn't give you a chance to point them out.

"Beel saw you leave right after classes. If you were so lost why didn't you call one of us?" he asks. The worry and exasperation is plain in his voice.

"I..." you start, "I didn't want to bother anyone that's all" but he can tell there's more to it than that.

"Why are you so worried about bothering us? Don't you know we care about you?" He asks, concern slowly turning to sadness.

"I just don't want to be a burden..."

His eyes go wider than before, which you didn't think was possible. "What in the three realms would give you the idea that you're a burden? MC, you're so precious to me, and if anything were to ever happen, I-"

He begins welling up with tears and pulls you into a tight hug.

"MC, I was worried sick. We all were. Please... Come to me when you need help... I love you"

Satan

He walked in and found you trying to use a chef knife to open a can, brought you the can opener, and ultimately left; not entirely sure what to make of the situation yet.

The next time he saw you, you were climbing on top of an unsteady looking stack of books to reach something in the House's library.

Were those one of his stacks? Had you stacked them yourself? It didn't matter. What mattered was that the books all began slipping out from under you.

He rushed over, and caught you with ease as you fell, but your momentum ended up knocking you both to the ground.

He sighs, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Sorry, " you let out an embarrassed laugh, "Are you okay?"

"Yea, and you?" he asks. You nod, and he helps you up. To his confusion you immediately begin stacking the books back up.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asks, suspicious. It looks like you're about to try to climb the stack again.

"There's a book I need" He was right.

This must be how Lucifer feels. He sighs again, and grabs your hand to stop you.

"You can't keep doing stuff like this, MC. It's dangerous" He looks serious, but his cheeks are a little pink, "I'm worried about you. Why won't you ask for help?"

"I..." You start, but hesitate, averting your eyes.

"Tell me the truth, MC" Satan almost pleads, a sad look in his eyes.

"I don't want to be a burden... that's all..." You say, so quietly it's almost a sigh.

Suddenly it all made sense; the way you tried to hide when you were upset, how you always carried just a little too much, the way you always offered to help, even if there was little work to do... Why hadn't he put the pieces together before now?

"Then, I need you to do something for me" He says, after thinking a moment. He steps closer, "I need you to start asking for help,"

He pulls you close, and hugs you tightly, "I know it'll be difficult, but that's why I'll always be there for you"

He pulls away slightly, still holding you, to look into your eyes. His face is very red now, "I'll do whatever it takes to show you that you're not a burden," Kindness and determination burn in his eyes as he leans in for a kiss.

Beelzebub

He was walking down the hall when he spots you down at the other end near an open window.

The wind blew something out of your hand, so you leaned out the window to try to grab it. This is when Beel got worried, his instincts kicked in and he picked up his pace.

Your homework got caught by the wind, but stopped by some of the vines clinging to the House of Lamentation, so you leaned out the window but it was just out of reach. You knew you could get it if you could reach just a little further, so you lean out a little more... Just a little more...

Unfortunately that's when you lost balance, and felt yourself tip forward. You'd be out the window in no time flat, and then you'd be flattened on the ground.

Thankfully Beel was able to grab you by the waist and hoist you back inside to safety.

You thank him, and explain the situation but he still looks confused.

"Why wouldn't you just come get one of us? We could've easily gotten it down for you" he asks.

"I thought I'd be able to reach" you try, with an embarrassed and unconvincing smile.

"Tell me the truth, MC. Why are you so afraid to ask for help?"

"I don't want to be a burden..." You say softly, sadness written plainly on your face and in your voice.

"Oh" You look up and the sad, sympathetic look Beel gives you makes you want to cry. "I know the feeling"

"You do?" You ask, tears beginning to spill over

"You think I don't know how many problems my stomach causes for everyone?" He gives you a slightly more serious look, "But that doesn't matter" And now a reassuring, although still slightly sad smile, "Because the people who love and care about you will never think of you as a burden. And trust me, MC, there are plenty of people who love and care about you"

"Like who?" You didn't want to ask, part of your brain knew the answer, but you just had to silence those negative voices.

Beel blushed, "Like me" he says, then silently wipes the tears from your face and pulls you into the softest, safest hug you've ever felt.

Belphegor

He wasn't worried at all initially. Sure humans are fragile compared to demons, but they're not that fragile. Plus you've survived this long on your own and now you've got demons, angels, a prince, and a sorcerer all looking out for you. Not to mention the way brothers' tend to exaggerate.

He was laying outside under a large tree, intending to try out a new nap spot, when he saw you leaning out of the window.

He smiled and was about to wave when he realized something was wrong. You were leaning too far out of the window. You were going to-

He jolted upright like he'd been hit by lightning as he watched you lose your balance

He already knew there was no way he'd be able to make it to you in time, even with demonic speed.

Thankfully Beel was there. Belphie let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he saw Beel pull you back inside and got up to go make sure you're alright.

He realizes his brothers were right to be worried, and he's angry about it.

You're on your way back to your room by the time he catches up with you, but he can see that your eyes are red from crying, and his anger evaporates. He asks you what's wrong, and you explain everything.

Why you almost fell out the window, your conversation with Beel, and how you're afraid of being a burden.

"Well, Beel's right, you could never be a burden to any of us" He says, so don't even worry about it" he says, giving you an easy smile, despite how sad he felt for his human.

"That's... Easier said than done..." You reply, unconvinced.

"That's why I'll always be by your side, MC. I won't even give you the chance to worry about it!"

He pulls you into a hug and strokes your hair, starting the waterworks all over again. He'll hold you until you've calmed down again, and then pull you up to the attic where you two can make a pillow fort and nap.

He'll probably also start a tickle fight just to hear you laugh again.

Btw, who made you feel this way, MC, he just wants to murder torture talk.

Diavolo

Lucifer has shared his concerns, as he often does, so Diavolo is aware of your reckless nature. He finds it somewhat amusing, but mostly concerning.

It's during one of the events that he finally witnesses it for himself.

He always found it sweet how you tried to help everyone, and you were doing it again. You were running around helping all of the brothers with everything. He doesn't know how those seven managed without you before you came to the Devildom, and the way they rely on you is more than a little amusing.

This time you were helping Asmo with decorations, but he seemed to have disappeared somewhere, no doubt to fix his makeup, or to take a break to avoid sweating too much.

When Diavolo walked in his eyes went wide. You were using progressively taller stacks of chairs to climb the tallest stack in the room in order to hang decorations on the ceiling, and your arms were so full of supplies that there was no way you could balance properly on the already unsteady stacks.

He'd already made it to the base of the stacks when the one you were on started to wobble.

"MC!" he called out in a panic, but this seemed to startle you, and the jolt caused you, the stack of chairs, and all your decorations to come crashing down.

Diavolo caught you effortlessly, and shielded you from any flying chairs in the process.

"Mc, are you okay?" He asks, eyes still wide, "what in the Devildom were you thinking?"

"Sorry, I was just trying to help" you say

He feels anger towards the brothers creeping in the back of his mind. That they would leave you alone, with so much work, and still none of them are to be found after such a loud crash; it's unacceptable. But he pushes those thoughts back for now.

"That was dangerous, even for a demon. You could have been seriously injured just now," The look of concern on his face tugs at your heart.

"Sorry" you mumble again, "You can put me down, now... I should start cleaning up"

"Forgive me for being selfish," He smiles a little, "But I don't think I want to put you down just yet. The clean up can wait"

Your face reddens. You're not sure what to say to that, but you can't deny that it feels good to be held like this in his strong arms.

He looks briefly around at the mess of scattered chairs and decorations that you had intended to hang and clean up by yourself, "Tell me, MC," He looks back to you, "You seem to have a hard time asking for help, why is that?"

You're surprised by the directness of the question, and look away. He notices, and feels a bit guilty, but knows that if things continue the way they are, you will definitely get hurt one day.

"I guess it's because... I'm afraid of being a burden" you answer honestly. You feel that you owe him that much.

"I see..." He hums, then smiles happily, "Then perhaps I should carry you around until you admit that you are not a burden!"

"WHAT?" the look on your face makes him laugh heartily.

"Just kidding!" He chuckles, "...Maybe"

"Diavolo that's- I-"

"You are extraordinary, MC," There's a serious look on his face now, "In fact I could describe you in a million different ways, but the word 'burden' would never be among them"

He begins walking out of the room, still carrying you in his arms.

"What are you doing? What about the decorations?"

"I think I'd like to keep you to myself for the day, if that's alright with you, my dear" Diavolo smiles down at you.

As you two walk down the hall, away from the ballroom you hear the brothers' voices as they enter, "Whoa? What the heck happened in here?" Mammon exclaims.

Barbatos

He had invited you for tea, and you offered to help Barbatos make and serve it.

You try to carry too much, and in your rush drop the entire tray, shattering the beautiful tea set and all of the plates of desserts.

"I'm so sorry!" You immediately bend down and begin tying to pick up the pieces, "I'll replace it-" You stop as you realize that you're not sure you could even afford to replace a royal tea set.

"Allow me to help" Barbatos says, bending down.

"No, no, it's fine! I can get it!" You look up and give him an unconvincing smile, and while you're not paying attention to what you're doing, you slice your hand open on one of the sharp pieces of porcelain.

Barbatos pulls a roll of gauze and bandages out of one of his pockets, "Let's get this taken care of, shall we?" he says, but you're still picking up pieces with your other hand.

"I can do it, I just-..."

"It's only a tea set," As Barbatos stills your frantic hands, he notices your tears.

"I'm sorry," You finally say after a long moment of silence, during which he begins bandaging your injured hand, "I tried to help, but I was still only a burden after all..." Barbatos is surprised by this admission, to say the least.

"You should know that It makes me very happy to be able help and take care of people. I especially enjoy the way your face lights up with a tinge of surprise whenever I do something for you that you are not expecting..." He pauses in thought, and looks as though he's realized something that makes him sad, but whatever it is, he keeps it to himself. He finishes bandaging your hand, and places his on the side of your face.

"MC, It is a pleasure, and genuinely brings me joy to be able to do things for you. Please allow me to help you more often."

He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and dries your tears.

He leads you to sit in a comfortable chair, "Please, rest until you feel better, and allow me to take complete care of you today"

He makes some tea and food for you both to share and makes sure you don't have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, leaving the broken tea set completely forgotten on the floor in the other room for the time being.

He always has kind words for you whenever you see each other, and while he enjoys your help in the kitchen, he always makes sure not to let you do too much, and he never lets you clean up.

He takes extra care of you from now on, and Diavolo finds it absolutely adorable, though he may be a tiny bit jealous.

Solomon

You might've actually given this man a heart attack.

He would've thought it was funny if it hadn't looked like the bookshelf was about to come crashing down on top of you.

"Don't worry! I'm used to climbing things; I'm careful!" You try to convince him, "That does not, in fact, make me feel any better, MC"

He dedicates time to teaching you a levitation spell or two, depending on your magical abilities, so you don't have to climb things any more.

As he's teaching you he decides to ask you about the book shelf incident.

"Something's been on my mind lately" He says, turning to you as you practice. You ask him what it is as you turn your attention to his face and notice that he looks troubled. "The other day, in the library. You knew I was there, sitting nearby... Why didn't you just ask for my help?"

"Oh, I just thought I could get the book myself" That wasn't the answer he was looking for, so he presses on.

"But surely it would've been easier to use a ladder, then. wouldn't it?"

"Well... I- uh- wasn't sure where they were" you sounded a little embarrassed, and turned your attention back to the spell.

Solomon looks a little saddened, "Hmm..." he pauses. You didn't want his help and you didn't even want to ask him a simple question? "MC, is there a reason you didn't want to ask me for help?" Watching you, he saw that the question gave you pause.

"I... have a hard time asking for help sometimes..." You admit, hoping that's the end of it. But of course, it isn't.

"Oh?" he gently prompts you to explain.

He can tell that you're only pretending to pay attention to the spell now, to avoid eye contact, "I've just always been afraid of being a burden"

His face grows sadder for a moment, but you continue to avoid his gaze. He folds his arms, and moves a closed fist to his chin in thought.

"I think that sometimes, not asking for help can be more of a burden" he says, finally catching your attention. You look up questioningly and he continues in a gentle voice, "Think about it, you're placing too much of the burden on yourself, which is making everyone around you worry. And besides that, what if you get hurt? Then you'll need more help from others than you would have in the first place"

It's your turn to look troubled. You hadn't realized that you were worrying everyone, or that you were causing them trouble.

He lets you think for a moment, before placing a comforting hand on your back.

"MC, it's okay to rely on others. People like it when you ask for help. It makes them feel special to you" He says, and when you look up he's giving you one of the kindest smiles you've ever seen on this shady magic boomer's face.

He hopes you catch his little hint, I want to feel special to you, MC

"Thank you, Solomon. I'd never thought of it that way" you smile back, "I'll try to ask for your help more often"

"I'll look forward to it!" He says with an even brighter smile.

Simeon

He noticed just in time; you had decided to walk home alone again and two suspicious looking demons were about to corner you down an alley.

You were scared, you think they had been following you for at least a couple blocks, and now you had nowhere to go. You were at a dead end.

"You two want to leave." A familiar voice, "NOW." Simeon was smiling, but he looked so intimidating in the shadow of the alley, and something ominous was also radiating off of him. Was he angry?

"C'mon it's not worth it" one of the demons said, "Killjoy" said the other. Simeon watches them leave with an intimidating expression before finally approaching you.

"MC, are you alright?" He asks, features now full of concern.

"Yea! Thanks for that, I was starting to get a little worried"

The concern on his face grows, didn't you know how much danger you'd been in just then? "Those two had been following you for a while... Why didn't you call out for help? Or call someone on your D.D.D?"

"Well... I- I just thought maybe they were walking in the same direction, so I wasn't sure..." You sounded nervous.

How could you be unsure? Simeon had never seen a more suspicious looking pair of demons in his life, and if you'd heard what they were saying they wanted to do to you, you'd understand why he was angry. He sighs.

He notices you're shaking, ever so slightly. Maybe you had overheard... You seemed to be more shaken than you were trying to let on.

In the silence he realizes that this part of town wouldn't be part of your normal route back to the House of Lamentation, "Were you lost?" You nod. "Why not ask for directions?" He asks

"Everyone was so busy when I left RAD... I didn't want to bother them. They're always taking care of me as it is... I just thought..."

So that's why you were walking home alone

"I'll walk you back then" he offers you his hand, and you want to take it, but to his surprise you can't bring yourself to.

"That's alright! You've already done so much for me. I'm sure I can find my way home now!" You try to force a smile, but Simeon can see right through you.

"MC... What's really going on?" His face is serious again but his voice is kind as he steps closer and rests a hand on your shaking arm.

You can't hold back tears any more, "I... Just don't... want to be a burden... to anyone" The quiet words break Simeon's heart.

Who could've made you feel this way?

He draws you into a strong, gentle hug, cradling the back of your head to hold you closer and stroke your hair.

"Don't ever think like that, MC" He breathes into your ear, "You are so loved"

Luke

You're going to give this smoll baby angel a heart attack, and there's not much he can even do to about it.

You were carrying too much, like you always do, and Luke noticed almost too late.

You were heading straight for the stairs, and your books and supplies were stacked too high for you to see!

"MC, LOOK OUT!" he shouts.

You stop just as your foot passes the threshold of the first stair and you feel the drop.

You drop everything you're carrying, but thanks to Luke's warning you stopped your own momentum before you could tumble down the stairs with everything else.

Relief floods through Luke as you stare at the mess, shaken and disheartened by the prospect of the clean up.

He runs to you, demanding to know that you're okay.

Of course he helps you clean up and carries as much as he can for you.

He's always offering to carry things for you now, even if all you have is a book or two.

He keeps a nervous eye on you from now on too.

Give this poor baby angel a hug.

[animatedrapture]

"𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖞" — suna rintarou ;

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: suna rintarō is so much more than his bored eyes, the blunt between his lips, and his tendency to slack off—luckily, you're one of the very few people who know this; especially after he comes home to you sullen after finding out he didn't make it to the olympic players.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: female reader. fluff—established relationship. angst if you squint. comfort. mention of drug use. like, one swear word.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k

𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: in lieu of the influx of toxic stoner!suna content, i offer you a piece of appreciation towards him and all that he is. i was meaning to post this in my new blog but i thought there's so much of you here who would appreciate and need this more. written on a whim at 1AM and didn't proofread so for any errors, gomen. repost because tumblr tagging hates me. cross posted on ao3 under the same username. original post here. this was written before we got information that he actually made it to the olympic team. furudate really told me to stfu, huh?

It's you who find out first that there is truly so much more to Suna Rintarō than his expressionless exterior, sleepy eyes, and bored gaze towards even the most ridiculous situations. It's when his self assured stance dwindled as he walked towards you once upon a time, introducing himself first before asking you for your number.

"My number?" You echoed his request, trying your best not to gawk at his attractive features and six foot two stature towering over you so easily; making you feel oh so small. (Which is funny, given that you were already standing straight on your heels.)

"If you don't mind, 's cool if you say no," he replies, tearing his gaze from you as if he was actually anxious you'd say no.

It's funny, really. It's not every day a famous pro-athlete known for both his good looks and skills walk up to you, asking for your number and actually considering you'd say no to him and his pretty features—in fact, nevermind that he was pretty, it was more the fact that he wasn't so full of himself to actually think you wouldn't say no.

That's what makes you nod your head; your heart already beating right out of your chest as he gives you a lazy grin and his phone to press your number in. When you're done, you hand it back to him and you mentally pat yourself at the back for not visibly trembling.

"Y/N?" He reads your name from the contact information, and good God, did your name sound so beautiful coming out of his mouth. He doesn't wait for your reply anymore, looking back at you from his phone, the lazy smile still across his lips as if he knew it was a heart killer.

"Thanks, I'll text you later," is the last thing he said before he walked away from you.

It didn't take long for you to fall in love with someone like Suna Rintarō—underneath his detached personality also lied someone who was truly passionate with the things he set his mind to, gave his time to. Like you or volleyball or the video game he's been waiting to release for a whole month—it only had to be something or someone who was special enough, then, he would give it his all.

The smoke that filled his lungs occasionally did nothing to lessen your own intoxication of Suna Rintarō and his passions—because every exhale, his dark green eyes would meet yours and oh so easily, he offers you that same lazy smile yet one that was dripping with affection.

"Should you even be smoking that, Rintarō?" You had questioned him before, about the second time you've seen him put the rolled blunt in between his soft lips, inhaling it.

"It's a once in a while kinda thing, you don't actually think I'd sacrifice my career for this don'tcha?" He grins at you, amusement flooding his usually bored eyes — now glazed over with the effects of the weed—from the way he gazes at you with an eyebrow raised.

It's when you realize that Suna Rintarō was independent and knew what he was doing—did what he did with full awareness, full control, full flexibility. It's as if who he was in court was who he was in person as well.

"You're really interesting, y'know that Rin?" You had mumbled against his chest once before, it was at the first few months of dating—he had one of his arms around you with you cuddled on his side, watching a movie from his couch.

"Yeah?"

"I mean—you've always been so good at what you do, huh? But you still work for it."

"What makes you say that?" You can feel him looking down on face against his chest.

"C'mon, don't be silly. You were scouted at middle school and you only got better as you grew up!" You say, finally moving your head to meet his gaze.

But all you get is a flick on your forehead and his low chuckle, "'s not that deep, y/n," he answers.

But you already knew better.

Suna isn't one for words, and no matter how much you insist that he was beyond the description of words, he only rolls his narrowed eyes at you. You find out Suna Rintarō, your boyfriend, was a huge inspiration during your sixth month together when you finally met his little sister.

It's hard to say it wasn't amusing how snarky she was, just as he was to his friends whom you've met a few times before—Atsumu and Osamu Miya, you remember. She's quick with her tongue, easily retorting back to her brother's comments.

"Are you sure you didn't just pay Y/N-san to be your girlfriend, nii-san?"

"Nah, you still jealous I came out prettier than you?" Suna bites back, a teasing grin plastered across his face. His sister only scoffs, looking back at you.

"You can tell me if he blackmailed you to come here!" She attempts to whisper. You're not sure whether you should be worried or continue to laugh, but you do neither as you choke on the drink you were sipping on right as she told you this.

"Shit, Y/N," Suna curses as you cough, your throat burning at the drink's intrusion, but Suna's quick to rub soothingly against your back as he offers you his water, his eyes glazed over in panic.

"You okay?" He asks when you stopped coughing, and you nod in response—throat remaining slightly sore. Suna lets out an aggravated groan, "Be careful next time," he manages to scold you, but oddly enough, his words remain saccharine.

There's something about the way that his little sister doesn't seem the least bit surprised with his reaction that somehow lets you know that perhaps, Suna Rintarō might just be quite the caring brother behind closed doors.

After that, it was when Suna excused himself to take a call from his manager, leaving you with his sister.

"Hey, nee-san, promise you'll take care of Rin-nii? You won't break his heart, will you?" His sister asks, eyes gleaming with something akin to hope, expectation, wonder. It easily takes you by surprise.

"Don't you worry, I'll promise I'll take care of him, promise I won't break his heart," your voice easily softens, nodding. His little sister's gaze remains on you, as if she's assessing you and as if she would easily tell whether or not you meant the words that came out of your mouth.

It makes you hold a breath until she nods slowly, smiling at you lightly just as Suna comes walking back, eyebrows raised, knowing he must've missed something.

"Whatcha girls talkin' bout?" He asked as he slipped back on his seat beside you.

"None of your business, obviously," his sister quickly answers.

They're truly quite similar, it's enough to make you smile and get through meeting his little sister until both of you dropped her off back to the train station.

"What'd she tell you?" Suna nudged you after seeing her train leave.

"Nothing, Rin," you answered with a wide smile, leaning up to place a chaste kiss against his lips—yet just as you pull away, one of his hands has found its way behind your neck, pulling you back to him.

You never thought a kiss could feel so loving before—but it really seemed as if Suna Rintarō had a knack for proving you wrong, over and over again.

It was the day that the Olympic team was announced when you see so much more of Suna Rintarō. Quick like the blink of an eye, or lightning that leaves the thunder chasing it; Suna felt the exhaustion, the pressure, the burnt-out feeling that's been repressed in the back of his head. It comes to him, crashing down like boulders not just on his shoulders but weighing down every part of his body.

Did he lack somewhere? He wonders. Where did that lacking end and start? What could have he done? Was it training, where he spent most of his time now? Suna had end up seeing you less and less since the drafting of olympic players started and you've been nothing but patient.

What was he supposed to tell you? After all the time it has stolen away from you—that he didn't make it?

When he opened the door to your shared apartment, he doesn't look up at you with a relieved sigh as he usually would—he avoids you gaze entirely, he avoids your observing eyes from the couch you sat on, watching him slowly shrug his shoes off.

"I'm just gonn—" he started, about to make an excuse to avoid looking at you.

"Prepared your bath, Rin. C'mon," Suna hears you say but it doesn't sink in his head, watching you take his hand, leading him to the bathroom.

Suna remains silent as he looks down on the bath you prepared for him, warm and inviting.

"Meet me in the kitchen when you're done, okay?" He hears you say, followed by the echo of your footsteps walking away.

You easily understand that Suna Rintarō was more than his talents, his efforts, and every little thing about him when you feel his large arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressed against your back and his face buried on the crook of your neck. His fresh scent right out of the shower engulfing you and invading your senses, flooding you with him.

"'m sorry, bunny," he mumbles.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Ri—"

"It's odd, thought I'd pull it off, thought it'd be nothin' if I didn't make it. Don't know why I'm so upset right now," he continues, cutting you off, "Been so patient for me too, bunny. Thought I'd be nice to make you proud, ya know?"

Your sigh comes out sharp from the heavy feeling from your chest, not knowing what to do to make him feel better—like he did with you, always knowing his way around your low moments.

You wriggle out of his arms, making him grumble until you fully face him. He looks back at you with a small frown, eyebrows furrowed, watching your expression.

"I'm always proud of you, Rin. Olympic player or not, you make me so proud," you speak softly, your hands cupping each side of his face.

"Don't even get why it matters to me this much, it's just—" it was your turn to cut him off, tipping your toes to press a lingering kiss against his lips. Suna smiles against your lips, carrying you to sit on the kitchen counter like he always did—knowing you always would have to tip on your toes to reach him.

Soon, the lingering kiss turns slow and passionate—lips softly grazing the other, and it feels more like pouring the heavy weight of love out of your chest and into the other. A kiss so loving, so reassuring, so passionate—the kind that easily takes your breath away and makes your mind go blank. When Suna pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. You smile at him because it's all you can do when your heart feels like it's going to leap out of your throat just to offer itself to him entirely—and Suna smiles back at you, pecking your lips before wrapping his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You run your fingers through his hair, hoping it would help soothe him, and then you say, "I promise that you'll make it next year, Rin. I'll be with you now, and I'll still be with you then."

It only makes him hold you tighter, closer to him, "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, Rintarō. You deserve the world and all the stars in the galaxy."

"'s too bad there's nothin' more I need than you, then."

That's what Suna tells you—Suna, who was smoke in his lungs, dumb videos of the twins to blackmail them with, little mistakes, bored eyes, and lazy attitude. The same Suna who was slow kisses, passion, and genuine smiles reserved for you—the same Suna who gave his passions his all, the same Suna who held you securely in his arms every night, the same Suna his little sister admired. Most of all, the same Suna Rintarō you loved with every beat of your heart, every fibre of your being.

📞 violet is calling... all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

[keldabika]

Hello! Can I have some hc with a protective mama Reader with Naib, Helena and Bane. They are my precious baby. I haven't play this game since season 13 and I miss them so much ahhhhhhh 😭😭. Thank you, have a nice day ❤❤🌷 (sr, my English is not good)

✨ Your English is wonderful dear ✨

[Naib Subedar, Helena Adams, Gamekeeper] S/O Is Overprotective

✨ As a reminder, my works will always include gn!reader unless specified by the requester! ✨

———————————————————————

[Naib Subedar]:

* You had been at the manor for quite awhile now, and were a rather nice person, getting along with most other survivors, and even some of the hunters to boot.

* It was quite surprising actually. You’d walked in the first day with a tough-guy attitude and gruff personality, and you didn’t seem like a very approachable person.

* Then, some survivors such as Victor and Emily started worming their way into your heart. Liam [Lucky Guy] and Norton were some of the first people to offer you a seat at the dinner table, and from then on you were one of them.

* You had scars, though most could tell they were more physical than emotional, from some sidejobs you used to complete for a gang on White Sand Street—robbing people and competing in fights with rivals.

* You quickly learned that most people fought back. Rival gangs always intruded on your own territory, and you were always left on guard, defending the last remnants of your livelihood and your sanity.

* Maybe that’s why you’re so protective over your things. Never letting anyone enter your room, never letting anyone see the pain you hide. Opening up to people enough to make allies, but never enough to show secrets.

* Now Naib…. Naib helped you out a lot. It seemed he understood you, far more than others. For some reason, he was always there for you, watching your back when needed, acting like a shield at times—sometimes literally.

* You never really understood at first, how he seemed to know you so well. From what you knew, he came from halfway cross the world, from Nepal, in India—a child, a soldier, a weapon.

* You guessed his life was rather similar, and assumed he’d come to the manor for quite the same reasons but, it was hard to see through the scowl on his face.

* At some point, you began to recognize the signs, the irritation, the avoidance. You recognized the silence, and the stiffness that came from Naib when he ate and smiled and nodded at their questions. You saw the signs of a brother, somebody just as lost and broken as you were.

* Children in the bodies of adults, forced to live life too fast and too furiously. Damaged and done in, waiting for someone to save them, but too scared to cry for help.

* Unwilling to hurt others again, unwilling to change.

* You grew wary—observant—of him eventually. You joined in more matches with him as teammate, and sat next to him often at dinner. When you noticed he didn’t eat as much, you grunted in concern. When he fell asleep in odd places, you’d bring him a blanket.

* It got to the point where he found out about your help, and tried to dissuade you from wasting your time.

* You never really listened. In fact, your worries only increased. Others might not have recognized, but you saw the signs of fatigue and death written in the lines of his face. You’d seen it every day back on White Sand.

* He gave up on making you give up, tired of attempted persuasions. Eventually began returning the favours—Naib is the type to have a ‘you watch my back, I’ll watch yours’ mentality.

* Everything you’d do for him is returned in kind. It annoyed the rest of the manor to no end because the giving and receiving eventually reached limits unheard of.

* You’d throw yourself on a rocket chair to save him, and next game you’d have your own personal bodyguard tracking your every move.

* He’d never admit it, but he appreciates all you do for him, and hopes you appreciate his efforts in making your life a little better too.

* Though your protective tendencies know no bounds, he hopes you’re a little more cautious with throwing your life on the line for him like that. This is a death game after all, be more careful…. please?

* At some point, the whole manor hopes you two could just get together and kiss it out in some storage closet. If you’re dating, what’s the need to be so consistent in you’re protective tendencies? Then you’ll always be together, which means nothing can ever happen to either of you!

* To be fair, that’s what most of them thought until an incident after the confession, where Naib wouldn’t let you out of the medical ward for a week due to a few hairline fractures.

* Please Naib! Emily begs you to let her use the examination table! You’ve hogged it for 5 days and she needs it to identify the infection spreading on Aesop’s leg! Vera broke her nose! William sprinted into the gymnasium wall and shattered his kneecaps! Please leave!

* You once set fire to a couch because Naib stubbed his toe on it.

* Please stop it you two, Freddy can’t budget for anymore furniture, and we’re fresh out of chairs.

———————————————————————

[Helena Adams]:

* Oops! Oh no her glasses! Aww shucks, Norton knocked them right off her face and onto the hardwood floor. She can’t find them because she can’t see, whatever shall she do?

* [S/o]! Please, she needs your help!

* You come in running with a pair of pliers, five bottles of anti-grease spray, and a box of extra lenses and a screwdriver.

* Oh how wonderful! You fixed her glasses—again—and saved her from the task of shuffling herself on all fours looking for them! Her hero!

* Helena…. praises you to say the least. You’re her best friend, her confidante, her…. big and strong, sometimes dumb partner!

* She adores everything you do for her, and tries equally as hard to do things for you that make your life necessarily easier, though it’s harder with her condition.

* She met you around the same time as everybody else, during your first days in the manor. Really, she didn’t actually know you were there until she bumped into a voice she didn’t recognize and became surprised.

* You quickly learned about her blindness, and made it your goal to form a friendship with her based on your willingness to help her around and get closer to her—she was very kind after all.

* Your protectiveness stemmed from the inherent feeling of a need to help guide and provide for Helena, much like a spouse would… jk, unless 👀….

* At some points, you were berated by her for your incessant protections, most of which made her feel highly dependent, which she didn’t like.

* She liked the feeling of being independent of others and being recognized as an autonomous, capable being. Especially considering what she came there for, it was a blow to her pride to be led around and pushed aside all the time.

* When she revealed these feelings to you, you had surprisingly promised her to cease in most areas of monitoring—however you still consistently check up on her—and settled into the realm of a relationship with her.

* Helena meets somebody who respects her opinions + acknowledges her intellect + isn’t a dingy asshole? Sign her up and slap on a ring, she’s marrying this person (eventually).

* She knows that your tendencies stem from a place of need and want, and tolerates most of them. Deep down, she likes being taken care of by someone who knows she can take care of herself. She really does love you.

* When you’re actually in a relationship with each other, you make sure to watch each others backs, more so you than Helena (because she can’t ‘watch’ per say), but you get the point.

* There was once an incident in a duo’s match where Helena became stranded on the Lakeside Fishing map. The terrain is rough, with piles of fish everywhere, randomly placed boxes and walls, and the barrels are bad enough when they don’t form a blockade.

* Her navigational skills, as good as they are with all her previous experience and staff, couldn’t for the life of her figure out how to move her way around a mess of box paths, pallets, and fishing stands.

* Most other survivors were occupied or dead—it had been a hard match against Jack the Ripper and Guard 26—and she was barred from reaching any form of help.

* So she screamed your name as loud as she possibly could across the map, and ended up attracting the attention of BonBon instead. During those moments where she could hear his clanks and heavy metalloid footsteps stalking towards her, the tick of a time bomb in hand, she heard a screech in the distance.

* A fierce battlecry—you came raging from around a windmill, propelled by William’s football and packing heat with a flare gun. BonBon, now stunned twice, stood there in astonishment, before chasing after you, who had grabbed Helena in your arms, running off at full speed.

* Your stamina bar, indicated by a small tab on your character, was running low, and you wouldn’t be able to run at full speed for another minute or two, having used your ability to buy time. Stopping near a closet, you lean down to place Helena on her feet, telling her to hide.

* Her blood trail was invisible from not actually having run anywhere, and she did as you said, making you promise to come get her when it was safe.

* You gave her a smirk and a small nod, assuring her that you would, before leaning in for a peck on the forehead as you shoved her into the locker.

* If only you could see her flushed in embarrassment.

* Leaving her to fangirl in the locker, you form a decoy in your arms—result of your max rescuer ability—and ran off once more, taking off around a corner just as Guard 26 reached your previous location, chasing after you and ‘Helena’ in hopes of landing two more kills.

———————————————————————

[Bane the Gamekeeper]:

* How does it feel to love a deerman? Good? Okay!

* Bane as you know is a little…. rough around the edges so-to-speak, and he has a lot of edges.

* Once you get around all the hooks, chains, and bear traps, and beneath that creepy-looking deer head of his, he really is such a sweet guy!

* At least you think so. In reality, he still acts like a complete dick to everybody else, and only shows his soft side around you, but that’s because he knows he can trust you with his lands, animals, and secrets! All those others out there only wish to hurt what he—you—have, and he’ll make them pay for it.

* Honestly, in order for him to have fallen for you so hard to have let his guard down around you, you probably would have had to be at your most vulnerable point in life, or a hunter yourself. Like a scared prey animal, uncertain of its future, waiting for something to happen, and somebody to help, or a huge predator, ready to strike out at any moment.

* Once you worm your way into his cold dead heart, there’s no way out for you. He’ll keep you close, as he doesn’t want you to be poached away like his precious animal friends from the past. He knows how cruel humanity can be sometimes.

* When you come to find out about his less-than-kind history, it’s all you can do to pity him. Your sympathy knows no bounds, and you become clingier, though he quite honestly likes it.

* You don’t want what happened to him to occur again, and with all these other traitors and murderers in the manor, you’re afraid of what the others could do.

* You keep to his side a lot more, take walks with him in the garden, and enjoy tranquil picnics from time-to-time on Lakeside. Anything to keep him close to you and away from all the pain.

* Bane can obviously see what your doing, and noticing that your protectiveness doesn’t yet border on the insane, he allows you to continue in your devotions.

* It’s honestly sweet sometimes how you both adore each other so much, even if you know that one day one or both of you will have to leave. Whether it be through death, disappearance, or another means such as escape is a question of time, and one that neither of you know the answer to.

* If you’re also a hunter, than both of you know that while you two are happier now than either of you were in life, that your individual deaths and worths will eventually determine your fates—whether that be a happy afterlife, or an eternity of endless wandering.

* It’s well known that you’ll both disappear the day the game ends, your souls being put to rest as they should’ve been however long ago. Until then however, you’ll continue to hold on to and vehemently protect the relationship the two of you have, and you’ll fight until your soul vanishes from the earth for what you have to remain that way.

* Now, if you’re a survivor, this is where the relationship can be a bit difficult.

* Avidly defending the actions of your boyfriend during and after a match to the rest of your survivor buddies isn’t a very good look for you, or your reputation. It’s been many times where you’ve almost been chased out of the dining room because somebody was pissed at you for costing them the match, or being the only one spared instead of convincing Bane for a win or tie.

* As they say, if you can’t beat em’, join em’. Some survivors, such as William, Kreacher, and Freddy, have more than once suggested that if you loved a hunter so much, you should become one to be with him. Dating the undead almost crosses the line of what is humane. Aesop thinks you’re kind of cool.

* The hunters over on Bane’s side hate you more. Are convinced that you’re the sole reason that Bane goes friendly sometimes (even in matches without you in them), and that your relationship takes away from his brutal and violent persona and nature.

* Violetta and Michiko are the most tolerant of you, mainly because you gifted them silk and a hand fan for Christmas once when they wished for them in their letters.

* All-in-all, basically everyone blames you, but you keep going forward because who cares about all the nasty bi*ches in the world, am I right?

* Once, to prove the integrity and devotion of your relationship, you set Freddy’s room on fire and locked Kreacher in a closet. You looked Bane directly in the eyes and kneeling before him stated, “I have committed arson for you m’lord.”

* You couldn’t see it because of his deerish head and all, but Bane really went “Heart eyes motherf*cker.” on you in that moment.

* You love animals and set things on fire to prove your loyalty to him? Ticket for one please, he’s riding the simp train all the way to the station.

* Just, please don’t accidentally burn down the manor, he wants to spend as much time with you as possible before he disappears.

* Also don’t joke around with your life, it’s too precious, even when you tackle your own teammate or risk getting hit by Ganji’s cricket ball to save him from being stunned.

* He doesn’t want you dying before he does—has already he supposes—or disappearing without a trace.

* You promise you’ll stick with him until the day you finally leave this wretched place.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[rintarhoes]

“KISS ME SLOWLY” — suna rintarou ;

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: female reader. fluff—established relationship. angst if you squint. comfort. mention of drug use. like, one swear word.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: suna rintarō is so much more than his bored eyes, the blunt between his lips, and his tendency to slack off and you’re one of the very few people who know this.

♡: repost (: this was written way before it was announced that suna was a part of the japan olympic players so.

It’s you who find out first that there is truly so much more to Suna Rintarō than his expressionless exterior, sleepy eyes, and bored gaze towards even the most ridiculous situations. It’s when his self assured stance dwindled as he walked towards you once upon a time, introducing himself first before asking you for your number.

“My number?” You echoed his request, trying your best not to gawk at his attractive features and six foot two stature towering over you so easily; making you feel oh so small. (Which is funny, given that you were already standing straight on your heels.)

“If you don’t mind, ’s cool if you say no,” he replies, tearing his gaze from you as if he was actually anxious you’d say no.

It’s funny, really. It’s not every day a famous pro-athlete known for both his good looks and skills walk up to you, asking for your number and actually considering you’d say no to him and his pretty features—in fact, nevermind that he was pretty, it was more the fact that he wasn’t so full of himself to actually think you wouldn’t say no.

That’s what makes you nod your head; your heart already beating right out of your chest as he gives you a lazy grin and his phone to press your number in. When you’re done, you hand it back to him and you mentally pat yourself at the back for not visibly trembling.

“Y/N?” He reads your name from the contact information, and good God, did your name sound so beautiful coming out of his mouth. He doesn’t wait for your reply anymore, looking back at you from his phone, the lazy smile still across his lips as if he knew it was a heart killer.

“Thanks, I’ll text you later,” is the last thing he said before he walked away from you.

It didn’t take long for you to fall in love with someone like Suna Rintarō—underneath his detached personality also lied someone who was truly passionate with the things he set his mind to, gave his time to. Like you or volleyball or the video game he’s been waiting to release for a whole month—it only had to be something or someone who was special enough, then, he would give it his all.

The smoke that filled his lungs occasionally did nothing to lessen your own intoxication of Suna Rintarō and his passions—because every exhale, his dark green eyes would meet yours and oh so easily, he offers you that same lazy smile yet one that was dripping in affection.

“Should you even be smoking that, Rintarō?” You had questioned him before, about the second time you’ve seen him put the rolled blunt in between his soft lips, inhaling it.

“It’s a once in a while kinda thing, you don’t actually think I’d sacrifice my career for this don'tcha?” He grins at you, amusement flooding his usually bored eyes—now glazed over with the effects of the weed—from the way he gazes at you with an eyebrow raised.

It’s when you realize that Suna Rintarō was independent and knew what he was doing—did what he did with full awareness, full control, full flexibility. It’s as if who he was in court was who he was in person as well.

“You’re really interesting, y'know that Rin?” You had mumbled against his chest once before, it was at the first few months of dating—he had one of his arms around you with you cuddled on his side, watching a movie from his couch.

“Yeah?”

“I mean—you’ve always been so good at what you do, huh? But you still work for it.”

“What makes you say that?” You can feel him looking down on face against his chest.

“C'mon, don’t be silly. You were scouted at middle school and you only got better as you grew up!” You say, finally moving your head to meet his gaze.

But all you get is a flick on your forehead and his low chuckle, “’s not that deep, y/n,” he answers.

But you already knew better.

Suna isn’t one for words, and no matter how much you insist that he was beyond the description of words, he only rolls his narrowed eyes at you. You find out Suna Rintarō, your boyfriend, was a huge inspiration during your sixth month together when you finally met his little sister.

It’s hard to say it wasn’t amusing how snarky she was, just as he was to his friends whom you’ve met a few times before—Atsumu and Osamu Miya, you remember. She’s quick with her tongue, easily retorting back to her brother’s comments.

“Are you sure you didn’t just pay Y/N-san to be your girlfriend, nii-san?”

“Nah, you still jealous I came out prettier than you?” Suna bites back, a teasing grin plastered across his face. His sister only scoffs, looking back at you.

“You can tell me if he blackmailed you to come here!” She attempts to whisper. You’re not sure whether you should be worried or continue to laugh, but you do neither as you choke on the drink you were sipping on right as she told you this.

“Shit, Y/N,” Suna curses as you cough, your throat burning at the drink’s intrusion, but Suna’s quick to rub soothingly against your back as he offers you his water, his eyes glazed over in panic.

“You okay?” He asks when you stopped coughing, and you nod in response—throat remaining slightly sore. Suna lets out an aggravated groan, “Be careful next time,” he manages to scold you, but oddly enough, his words remain saccharine.

There’s something about the way that his little sister doesn’t seem the least bit surprised with his reaction that somehow lets you know that perhaps, Suna Rintarō might just be quite the caring brother behind closed doors.

After that, it was when Suna excused himself to take a call from his manager, leaving you with his sister.

“Hey, nee-san, promise you’ll take care of Rin-nii? You won’t break his heart, will you?” His sister asks, eyes gleaming with something akin to hope, expectation, wonder. It easily takes you by surprise.

“Don’t you worry, I’ll promise I’ll take care of him, promise I won’t break his heart,” your voice easily softens, nodding. His little sister’s gaze remains on you, as if she’s assessing you and as if she would easily tell whether or not you meant the words that came out of your mouth.

It makes you hold a breath until she nods slowly, smiling at you lightly just as Suna comes walking back, eyebrows raised, knowing he must’ve missed something.

“Whatcha girls talkin’ bout?” He asked as he slipped back on his seat beside you.

“None of your business, obviously,” his sister quickly answers.

They’re truly quite similar, it’s enough to make you smile and get through meeting his little sister until both of you dropped her off back to the train station.

“What’d she tell you?” Suna nudged you after seeing her train leave.

“Nothing, Rin,” you answered with a wide smile, leaning up to place a chaste kiss against his lips—yet just as you pull away, one of his hands has found its way behind your neck, pulling you back to him.

You never thought a kiss could feel so loving before—but it really seemed as if Suna Rintarō had a knack for proving you wrong, over and over again.

It was the day that the Olympic team was announced when you see so much more of Suna Rintarō. Quick like the blink of an eye, or lightning that leaves the thunder chasing it; Suna felt the exhaustion, the pressure, the burnt-out feeling that’s been repressed in the back of his head. It comes to him, crashing down like boulders not just on his shoulders but weighing down every part of his body.

Did he lack somewhere? He wonders. Where did that lacking end and start? What could have he done? Was it training, where he spent most of his time now? Suna had end up seeing you less and less since the drafting of olympic players started and you’ve been nothing but patient.

What was he supposed to tell you? After all the time it has stolen away from you—that he didn’t make it?

When he opened the door to your shared apartment, he doesn’t look up at you with a relieved sigh as he usually would—he avoids you gaze entirely, he avoids your observing eyes from the couch you sat on, watching him slowly shrug his shoes off.

“I’m just gonn—” he started, about to make an excuse to avoid looking at you.

“Prepared your bath, Rin. C'mon,” Suna hears you say but it doesn’t sink in his head, watching you take his hand, leading him to the bathroom.

Suna remains silent as he looks down on the bath you prepared for him, warm and inviting.

“Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done, okay?” He hears you say, followed by the echo of your footsteps walking away.

You easily understand that Suna Rintarō was more than his talents, his efforts, and every little thing about him when you feel his large arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressed against your back and his face buried on the crook of your neck. His fresh scent right out of the shower engulfing you and invading your senses, flooding you with him.

“’m sorry, bunny,” he mumbles.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Ri—”

“It’s odd, thought I’d pull it off, thought it’d be nothin’ if I didn’t make it. Don’t know why I’m so upset right now,” he continues, cutting you off, “Been so patient for me too, bunny. Thought I’d be nice to make you proud, ya know?”

Your sigh comes out sharp from the heavy feeling from your chest, not knowing what to do to make him feel better—like he did with you, always knowing his way around your low moments.

You wriggle out of his arms, making him grumble until you fully face him. He looks back at you with a small frown, eyebrows furrowed, watching your expression.

“I’m always proud of you, Rin. Olympic player or not, you make me so proud,” you speak softly, your hands cupping each side of his face.

“Don’t even get why it matters to me this much, it’s just—” it was your turn to cut him off, tipping your toes to press a lingering kiss against his lips. Suna smiles against your lips, carrying you to sit on the kitchen counter like he always did—knowing you always would have to tip on your toes to reach him.

Soon, the lingering kiss turns slow and passionate—lips softly grazing the other, and it feels more like pouring the heavy weight of love out of your chest and into the other. A kiss so loving, so reassuring, so passionate—the kind that easily takes your breath away and makes your mind go blank. When Suna pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. You smile at him because it’s all you can do when your heart feels like it’s going to leap out of your throat just to offer itself to him entirely—and Suna smiles back at you, pecking your lips before wrapping his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You run your fingers through his hair, hoping it would help soothe him, and then you say, “I promise that you’ll make it next year, Rin. I’ll be with you now, and I’ll still be with you then.”

It only makes him hold you tighter, closer to him, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Rintarō. You deserve the world and all the stars in the galaxy.”

“’s too bad there’s nothin’ more I need than you, then.”

That’s what Suna tells you—Suna, who was smoke in his lungs, dumb videos of the twins to blackmail them with, little mistakes, bored eyes, and lazy attitude. The same Suna who was slow kisses, passion, and genuine smiles reserved for you—the same Suna who gave his passions his all, the same Suna who held you securely in his arms every night, the same Suna his little sister admired. Most of all, the same Suna Rintarō you loved with every beat of your heart, every fibre of your being.

📞 violet is calling… all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

[zillennial97]

Enemies to Lovers | Larry Fanfic Recs

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy | 149k | Explicit

Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes.- A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry | 136k | Explicit

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

we're not friends, we could be anything by nooelgallagher, yoursongonmyheart | 115k | Explicit

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry. “What that supposed to be a fucking joke?”

Harry narrows his eyes right back. “It was a good joke.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Jokes require laughter, Curls.” Louis glances down at Harry’s thighs again, Christ. “Your pants must be so tight they’re restricting airflow to your brain.”

Harry wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead. “Pretty sure yoga is supposed to increase airflow, blood flow, and all that,” he responds dryly, finally jumpstarting himself and walking away from Louis towards his own bedroom.

Louis can’t help but stare at his broad back, still sheen with drying sweat, and his perky bum in the tight yoga pants.

Louis swallows. Christ.

...Or, the one where Harry and Louis are unlikely uni flatmates who definitely don't like each other and definitely won't fall in love (even if Liam and Niall think otherwise).

Our Lives, Non-Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey | 113k | Explicit

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong?

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose by dolce_piccante | 112k | Mature

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Dance to the Distortion by Lis (domesticharry) | 96k | Explicit

Louis accidentally breaks Harry's camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other.

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey | 95k | Explicit

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

The Sidelines by RedRidingStiles | 47k | Explicit

"Alright, I know you guys are the best of friends but I'd like you to do this for the rest of the team,” Cowell says, making the rest of the team snicker. "So I want both of you to compliment each other." "I hate your trainers. I mean that in the nicest way possible. They're very...yellow," Louis says, arms crossed as he offers a fake close-lipped grin. "It's really nice of you to blow anyone you find slightly attractive," Harry replies, a sickening sweet smile on his lips. "Thank you, children, let me remind you this is a college hockey team. Try again," Coach says, completely unamused.

Or Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can't stand one another, since they can't keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other

Wonderwall by AFangirlFantasy | 43k | General Audiences

Taking the sheet cluttered with times available for the next few weeks, Louis notices a pattern in the list. The name of the person Perrie had just mentioned: Harry Styles. It’s written at least seven times, and three of which are during timeframes Louis wants.

“Who the fuck is Harry Styles?”

“You’re about to find out,” she answers, pointing over Louis’ shoulder.

Or a Love/Hate College AU where Louis Tomlinson is the lead singer of The Rogue - the most popular band on campus - and Harry Styles is the talented Freshman unknowingly challenging all that.

All the Right Moves by cherrystreet | 32k | Explicit

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 32k | Explicit

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups | 31k | Explicit

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?” “Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?”

(Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

We're Like Bumper Cars by sincehewaseighteen | 31k | Explicit

“I have won, I won the final cross country. I win, Harry--”

“Whoever gets to fucking nationals wins it, pretty boy,” Harry teases. “You haven’t won. Interhouse is nothing compared to nationals, or interstate. You haven’t even won interschool. You can dream all you fucking want that you’ve won.”

Louis becomes so ignorant he decides to no longer eye the boy taunting him. “Trophies prove it all, Styles.”

“Where’s your trophy for biggest asshole?”

“Where’s yours for winning cross country?”

Harry growls before hooking his fingers in Louis’ belt loops and bringing them together for a flat kiss.

Or the AU where Louis and Harry are rivals of the century and Cross Country competitors before things get complicated and they play pretend.

After Hours by Velvetoscar for shipsdrifting | 26k | Not Rated

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are the bane of each other's existences. Unfortunately, they're already in love--even if they aren't completely aware of this minor detail.

[A "You've Got Mail" AU]

When It's Late At Night by Rearviewdreamer | 25k | Mature

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

Or

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

Love Me Please by angelichl | 23k | Explicit

Louis hates Harry, which is fine because he would really rather prefer to avoid him at all costs.

The only problem?

They're soulmates.

runnin' like you did by orphan_account | 20k | Explicit

“Should we tell him?”

When Lauren is met with everyone either nodding their heads or shrugging, she takes a deep breath. “I mean, I think it’s pretty obvious by now.” She stalls, sounding ominous and Louis doesn’t like it one bit.

“What is obvious by now?” Louis asks. He’s starting getting anxious. “I swear to God, spit it out. Stop being so damn cryptic.”

“I—We think it’s pretty obvious that you’re in love with Harry,” she states simply and shrugs as if she isn’t telling him he’s in love with the second—Nick being the first—most annoying person on the planet.

or, a college au where Louis knows how to hold a grudge and is definitely not in love with Harry Styles

Three French Hems by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews | 20k | Mature

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

once bitten and twice shy by pinkcords | 19k | Mature

This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?”

Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

That's How I Know by allwaswell16 | 19k | Explicit

Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles. Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees.

Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor.

Get Off of My Cloud by Marora_Daris | 9k | Explicit

Harry is the most annoying neighbour that sexually frustrated Louis could have. Niall decides it's a good idea to handcuff them together.

Featuring guinea pigs, animal print leggings and inappropriate boners.

Erase My History, (Expo)se Me by BayouSexual, pacificrimjob for Edandcurly | 6k | Teen And Up Audiences

“My hair does not smell like strawberries.”

Louis blinks up at Mr. Styles. “I never said your hair smells like strawberries. How would I even know that?” Harry’s hair does smell like strawberries, Harry himself smells like strawberries, everyone who’s been within three feet of him knows this. ~~~~~~~~ Or the one where Harry and Louis both teacher history, their students think they should date, and one pink dry-erase marker is trying to ruin their lives (with a little help of course).

[decepti-thots]

so as a natural consequence of working on "sometimes the sun shines" ch2 i have been re-reading a lot of the CD/RW stuff from both pre- and immediately-post Overlord to try and get a refresher on both characters, and especially Chromedome because the next chapter is from his PoV.

and it's really reiterated to me that I think CD has a very odd character arc compared to almost all full-fledged arcs in the comic, and honestly compared to a lot of similar serialized narratives. not in a bad way, I really like CD's canon arc and it fascinates me! but looking it over has made it a lot clearer to me why i think CD is a character a lot of people in fandom have, over the years, understandably found slippery and difficult and often very hard to latch onto as "relatable".

prior to Rewind's death during the Overlord incident, those two characters function as a unit on a narrative level really strongly. i've described them before as being almost like satellite characters for each other at the same time, and that's absolutely true IMO- but i actually think that CD has this going on even more than Rewind does.

on an out of universe/narrative level even things that don't initially seem to include Rewind as a motivating factor for CD, like say The Overlord Thing TM, are still very much there because it puts those two characters into direct conflict. like, CD himself is not motivated to do that because of Rewind, but the goal of the comic in making him involved is very much to set up a scenario where CD is indirectly but very meaningfully culpable for Rewind's eventual death at Overlord's hands.

(this post is about CD rather than Rewind but the opposite is definitely mostly true here as well for him: the entire "lost conjunx" subplot is there as a plot device to drive the CDRW conflict, and Rewind mostly gets a nod as the one a little less purely defined by this dynamic because he does one really big thing that isn't related to CD when he chooses to shoot Megatron in Elegant Chaos.)

none of this is a criticism to be clear, this is an absolutely valid way to develop the characters, but almost every other major character has some combination of: a) multiple characters they interact with to develop, b) ways they develop that are mostly driven by themselves as individuals rather than in communication with others, and/or c) they uh, basically just don't get an arc so it doesn't apply.

the point where this becomes sort of weird for how this works for CD's arc as a whole is, in fact, the part where Rewind dies. he dies! he stays dead for kind of a long time. to me when I read it back in trades it never feels like it's all that long, but actually, Rewind dies in issue #15 and doesn't come back via the Rewind 2.0 thing til issue #33. 17 issues in a serialized comic is fully a year and a half in the format it was originally intended for, and it's a large chunk of pagetime where CD is now existing as an independent character without a foil like we see up to that point (and, for that matter, after Rewind is "back").

now, one way the comic deals with this is sort of just to push CD more into the background following to resolution of that arc for a while, which is par for the course for MTMTE and especially early MTMTE; as an ensemble piece it will often dedicate some focus to a character for a bit, give them a small narrative resolution, let them fade into the BG for a bit, and then cycle them back out later if need be. so this doesn't stand out too much as egregiously weird once Rewind is gone.

but CD is hardly gone completely, and the narrative is still following him and how Rewind's death changes him in the following issues and storylines. it checks in on him pretty regularly, and of course by the time we get to the Slaughterhouse arc it ramps this up as a kind of foreshadowing to the fact we're getting Rewind back (well. we're getting a new Rewind, anyway).

there's a really obvious narrative arc a reader is likely to predict as set up by Rewind's final message, and CD's decision following his viewing of it to, for the first time, not address every instance of grief in his life with ill advised mnemosurgery. namely, that This Is An Arc About Moving On, and any future CD stuff will be about that.

which is not at all what this stage in CD's arc turns out to be in the leadup to Rewind's eventual return! not even a little bit! CD canonically completely backslides into a horrendous depression to where he's basically non-functional and everyone is really worried about him. to the point where this will later explicitly be Brainstorm's motivation for changing his plan in Elegant Chaos from "get Quark out alive" to "stop the entire war before it happens". CD learns absolutely no lessons about moving on in this part of his arc, he just barely manages to hang on long enough that he makes it through to where Slaughterhouse happens.

far from the "this is an arc about moving on from grief etc" arc that I think a lot of readers would expect from the setup and standard narrative tropes initially deployed following Rewind's death, this is where CD is at when we get to that arc:

CD's arc is one that is not at all a linear progression about moving forward and getting "better". it seems that way initially when CD makes the very important decision not to use his needles on himself after speaking to Brainstorm, but by the time we get to Slaughterhouse, it becomes very apparent his arc is one that involves significant backsliding.

i'm reluctant to guess at how much of this is deliberate on the part of the writer, and how much is the natural outgrowth of Roberts always knowing that this story included Rewind coming back in some fashion. if you know the arc is going to be picked up with Rewind later down the line, the shape of your plans will inevitably look different, since knowingly waiting to pick that up will wind up folded into how you structure that arc if you plan it in advance.

but it's kind of an unpleasant thing to wade through, in the sense that it's very emotionally uncomfortable to witness a character just... not get "better" like you a) want them to and b) have kind of been trained as a reader to expect from a story like this. it's really not very conventionally satisfying, and while it never gets too bleak, especially since Rewind2 happens directly following this very obvious low point, it brings some of CD's most difficult character traits into sharp relief. namely, that he is a character who struggles to grow under his own steam. it's not very satisfying to see someone basically be handed the "you need to be able to live and improve for yourself" lesson and under horrible circumstances, prove to not yet be able to actually take that onboard.

I always think it's notable that there's a line in Slaughterhouse which puts the Rewind of the other LL on a similar footing at this point too:

the difference for the readers, of course, is that we sit with this mindset with Rewind for a few panels, rather than the much longer period we've seen it impact CD for at this stage.

anyway. I think this backwards momentum is a part of what can make CD feel like a difficult character to get a clear hold on compared to a lot of others in the cast, because trying to track his arc can be trickier. and also because while it's a very realistic depiction of depression, it can be kind of hard to get a handle on when trying to translate that into a more conventional set of narrative storytelling tools. while it's true that most conventional narrative arcs have a "low point" well into the story, they're usually things that are reflected externally rather than by the character like, gradually backsliding into chronic depression.

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-40)

Word count: 4.8K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Fluff, angst, feels, sickness

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​. You’re a Rockstar <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

No one talked to you today, the whispers though, had escalated. No one was bothering to keep it quiet either. Not just your classmates, even the faculty kept giving you looks, ranging from distrust to pity. Professor Whitman, who never cared much about anything, took a whole minute to find you in the class and give you a once over, like he was seeing you for the first time- Sam Winchester’s flighty wife, back to ruin his life again.

The judgement you could take. The pity was painful. What did they see? A girl who couldn’t appreciate a good man? Or as much as you hated to think of it that way- a girl who couldn't be a mother again.

It came as a surprise when Jody called you to her office after the class. When you followed her in, she closed the door behind and unexpectedly pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry about all of this, Y/N,” she said. “It’s awful.”

You waited for her to let go of you then asked, “How much trouble is Sam in?”

Jody pursed her lips. “I want to say, ‘not much’ but we’ll only know on Monday, I suppose.”

“Are you part of the enquiry committee?”

She nodded. “All of the freshman faculty panel is on there. You have nothing to worry about, Y/N. Your grades are impeccable. You can’t possibly be sleeping with all of us.”

“I’m not even sleeping with Sam!” You let out, frustrated. “And I’m more worried about what happens to him.” You were a student. The most they could do is sack you from the students committee and bump down your grades. 

Jody regarded you for a moment. “The two of you are so similar. It’s uncanny.”

She sighed. “I’ll be upfront with you, Y/N. As much as I’ve tried to shake them, Sam’s priorities are set. Even absent, you were very high up on that list. With you in front of him, there are very few things Sam wouldn’t give up for you.”

You already knew that. But was it right to let him make all those sacrifices for someone as undeserving as you?

The thought plagued you after you’d left Jody’s office, just as it had plagued you for the past two days. Outside, you ran into Madison.

“Oh, I was looking for you,” she said. “Sorry, I missed the first few lectures, but I have news for you. One good, one bad.”

“Bad one first,” you said, apprehensive. 

Madison made a face. “Starting the day after tomorrow, I have no place to live.”

“What? Didn’t you have a lease for the whole year?”

“Lacey is screwing someone, who knows someone else who knows the hostel director. And, well, long story short, my lease got prematurely terminated.”

Anger flared inside you again. This was happening to Madison only because she was staunchly standing with you. 

“I want you to come house hunting with me. My brother’s agreed to help me out with the money. So, I’m good to go.”

The idea popped up in your head immediately. “Why don’t you move in with me?” 

Her eyebrows knitted together. “Meg?”

“Meg’s almost moved out next door. I was supposed to put out an add for a roommate but with everything that’s going on…” Convincing Meg to continue with the move had been very difficult. She thought it was some sort of betrayal to leave you by yourself in all this mess. Cas supported her on that. However, everyone was camping in your living room anyway. 

Ultimately, you had to put your foot down and tell her to move her ass out. Your life might always remain a tragedy. It shouldn’t pause her or Cas’s life. She had still slept on your sofa last night.

“You’re serious?” Madison was trying her best to contain her excitement.

“As a heart attack.”

She let out a loud squeal and tackled you. “This is the best thing ever. We’ll be roomies!”

“Not if you call me that.”

Madison’s laughter rang out in your ears. “Now you’ve already offered. You can’t take it back, roomie.”

“Wait, what’s the good news?” 

Her face split into a huge grin. “I heard from the HR at Acton Gris. They won’t hire me as an intern. But she asked me to apply for the position of summer associate next year. She said my chances looked great.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“Yes! I’m thinking of applying for an on campus job this year.”

Madison was sincere, smart and she worked very hard. No wonder good things were in store for her. “Let me talk to Molly today. See if she has some inside intel on vacancies.”

“You’d do that?” Madison couldn’t stop beaming and you smiled right along with her. “The world is a much better place with you in it.”

Not everyone thought that. Following the pattern of the past few days, Rebecca decided to show her face again after the lecture. You had been expecting her at this point. Maybe she couldn’t sleep without venting off her frustration on you. As usual, she had Lacey next to her, who really had gone fully darkside.

“Missing your Professor?”

You saw Madison start, but Rebecca put in. “Oh, stop being her Lapdog, Maxwell. You don’t have to rollover each time she blows a whistle.”

“It’s alright, Maddie,” you said in a calm voice. “As it happens, I do miss him very much.”

“I hope at least the sex was worth it,” said Lacey.

You grinned at her. “Mind-blowing, actually. I remember this one time, I was screaming his name for literal hours. God, the things that man can do. It’s in-credi-ble.” You drew out the last word with a relish.

Lacey’s jaw dropped.

Rebecca recovered quickly. “Christ! You’re shameless. That man’s married with a son. Have you got no shame at all?”

“Weren’t you the one making out with Sam at Maddie’s birthday party in the bar restroom?” You shot back. “I remember you described the bit about feeling his abs in extreme details. He wore his wedding ring around his neck. So how are you not shameless?”

Rebecca’s face reddened in an instant. “What… how…?”

“Doesn’t feel so good when the finger is pointed at you. Right, Rebecca? When you’re the one being put on a spot and your character is being brought into question. It was okay for you to make out with a professor. Why are the rules so different for me?”

“I- I was drunk that night. And I never slept with him!”

“Don’t you dare paint him in that light. As if you were some drunk woman he took advantage of in a toilet cubicle.” You spat. “You’re so desperate that you don’t think twice about lying over something so demeaning. You didn’t touch Sam because at 2 in the night, he wasn’t even there in that bar. So shut that bullshit.”

There was a crowd gathered around you now, and she didn’t like her words coming back to bite her.

“How do you know where Sam was that night?” Rebecca questioned, clearly baffled and out of her element, but trying to salvage the situation and save face.

You rolled your eyes. “We’re having an affair, remember? Keep up, Rebecca. You filed that complaint. Also, don’t worry about his wife, really. She totally doesn’t mind.” You winked.

The murmur around you was starting to intensify. You didn’t know how long it would be before the actual story came out. Or if it ever would come out. Neither did you care. You didn’t owe an explanation to any of these people. 

Rebecca breathed out harshly, and spoke through her teeth, contempt dripping in each word. “You’re disgusting. That child of his-”

“Don’t. Don’t utter a word about that boy,” you hissed, the anger finally burning through. “You’ve done enough harm to Sam’s reputation. But I swear to God, Rebecca, you’ll live to regret it if you so much as dare to think about Max, you deplorable excuse of a living thing.”

The warning was so raw, she flinched back from you as you stormed out. 

Madison did not follow you to the library. She knew when you wanted to be left alone. Attacking Sam was one thing, but you really did want to rip Rebecca’s throat for wanting to bring Max in the middle of it. The fierce protectiveness you felt for him was like nothing else you had experienced before. 

Throughout the following hour, you kept glancing at the door of the library, expecting Max to walk in. Sam had said he would visit. 

Maybe you would ask him to read out to you today. If anything, that could fix your mood.

“Umm… Y/N?”

You looked up to see Molly standing over you. 

“Hey. I didn’t see you there.”

She shuffled from one foot to the other looking at you awkwardly.

You squared your shoulders, realising what she might’ve heard. “Anything you want?”

“I- I wanted to say sorry.”

That brought you up short. “Why?”

Molly ran her fingers through her red hair. “I didn’t know you were… you know… Sam’s wife, and I said horrible stuff to you the other day.”

It hadn’t actually been that horrible. 

“I’d heard the rumours but I swear I didn’t believe a word. Then I ran into Chase Lincoln yesterday. He told me.”

“Everything?”

Molly nodded sadly. “It was wrong of me to make assumptions, Y/N. What happened in Sam’s life was none of my business. And for the reason you left to be so horrifying? I could have never imagined. I’m really, really sorry. I don’t know how to apologize.”

“Stop saying sorry,” you said at once. “I know you’ve always meant well for Sam and for me, Molly. Everyone likes to gossip. It’s no big deal. You didn’t hurt or offend me.”

“There must be something I can do, novia.”

“Never bring it up again. Please. Let’s just forget that conversation happened.”

You saw her eyes start to fill up. “Take the rest of the week off, yeah? Come back Monday.”

“You’re low on staff already.” You did not want anyone’s sympathy.

“I’m not doing this for you,” she said. “Spend the weekend with Sam. He’ll need a distraction more than ever before that hearing on Monday. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Molly disappeared into the librarian’s room before the waterworks started. She didn’t want you to see her tear up so you didn’t follow her in, continuing with your sideways glances at the door. The sharp ring of your phone made you jump.

“Hello?” You answered the unknown number

“Y/N? It’s Alex. Sam left me your number in case of emergencies.” She sounded frantic.

“Is everything okay?” 

“Can you please come over? Max is really sick and… he’s… he’s asking for you.”

*****

Instead of knocking on the door, you straight up punched the security key and barged into the house.

“Max? Alex?”

“Up here!” You heard Alex’s voice. Taking two steps at a time you made it to Max’s room. Your chest contracted, seeing Max in the bed. He was curled up on his side, cheeks wet, face puffy from crying. 

Alex was sitting on a chair next to him, distressed.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, rushing to Max’s side and placing a hand against his forehead. He was burning up.

“I don’t know,” said Alex, “He was fine when I picked him up from school. He said he was feeling sick half an hour ago and now he’s running a fever. I tried calling his usual doctor but it says the number doesn’t exist anymore. He’s been crying and calling out for Sam and... you.”

“Did you try Sam?”

“He’s not reachable.”

“Max, honey, what’s wrong?” You asked as gently as you could. “Do you hurt somewhere?”

He opened his eyes and your heart lurched at the tears in them. “Stomach. My stomach hurts. I want dad.”

“Sam will be home at night. He’ll be with you.” You turned to Alex. “Is he allergic to something?” 

“Not that I know of.”

You were sure he hadn’t had outside food in at least a week, so food poisoning was out.

“Does your body hurt, baby?”

Max nodded slowly, drawing into himself. “And my head.”

“Alex, could you please find the first aid box and get me a thermometer?”

She scampered off to find it, relieved to have someone else take charge of the situation. Keeping one hand on Max’s forehead, you reached out for your purse with the other and pulled out your phone. Thankfully, the number was on the speed dial. He picked up the phone on the second ring.

“Cas, where are you?”

“At the hospital. Everything okay?”

“No. Max is running a high fever. I’d guess around 101. He says he’s feeling sick, and has stomach and body ache.”

There was a pause, then Cas said. “Can you drive him to the hospital? Bring him directly to the paeds ward on the 7th floor. I’ll see you there in fifteen minutes.”

Alex was back with the thermometer. 102.3. Thankfully, she had a license and Claire’s car was in their driveway. You asked her to bring it out front.

After she left, you gently coaxed Max into a sitting position, he looked drowsy and was still sniffling a little. “Honey, listen to me. You’re going to have to deal with a little inconvenience, okay? We’re going to drive you to the hospital very quickly.”

“Hospital?” He mumbled. eyes filling up again. 

“It’s just Cas there,” you soothed him. “You remember Cas, right? We all played jenga together.”

Max opened his mouth to say something, instead his eyes widened and threw up over the front of your sweater and into your lap. 

He started crying immediately. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes filled up. “It’s okay, baby. It’s no big deal.” You removed the puke covered sweater and used to wipe away the vomit stuck to your jeans. “See, it’s all gone. No need to worry at all.”

The retching had left him weak and shivering. 

“Just stay put a minute.” You hurriedly tossed your sweater in the hamper by the door, and pulled on one of Sam’s overlarge shirts over your T-shirt. Once back, you grabbed Max’s grey blanket and wrapped it around him. Slinging your purse around your torso, you lifted him in your arms and carried into the car that was already waiting at the curb. You held Max close to your chest in the backseat, whispering soft reassurances in his ears. 

Just as Alex pulled up in front of the hospital, Max threw up on you again. It made him cry harder. You realised it was not just humiliating for him, he was missing his dad terribly. 

“Max, honey, it’s totally okay,” you assured him, kissing his brow. “I used to throw up so much as a kid, gran used to call me projectile Y/N. Just puke all around me all the time. Hell, ask your dad. He held my hair when I threw up in the toilet. It’s my jam. And we’ve got a  towel now. Let’s clean you up, okay?”

Thankfully, the blanket wasn’t soiled, so you could keep it around him as you carried him in the lift.

Cas was waiting for you there. He immediately guided you to a bed and laid Max down on it. You started to step back.

“Y/N, don’t go,” Max rasped out. 

“I’m right here, Chirp. I’m not going anywhere, but Cas needs to take a look at you.”

Max still reached out with his hand. You looked at Cas. He gave you a quick nod and you rushed to Max’s side once more, grasping his outstretched fingers tightly. Cas pressed Max’s tummy, asking where exactly it hurt, then checked the temperature again along with the pulse. You watched apprehensively as Cas pulled down Max’s eyelids and asked more questions. Meanwhile, the chills kept getting worse.

“It looks like he’s caught a viral fever. The nurse outside told me it’s been doing a round at the school. We’ve had many kids this week.”

“Why is he throwing up then?”

“It’s probably the phlegm. I don’t think there’s a reason to worry. I’ll give him an IV with paracetamol and nausea suppressants. He’ll feel much better in a few hours.” Cas hesitated. “Maybe you should ask Sam before we start the treatment. Only he can sign off on the papers. You’ll need the details of the health insurance.”

“I can’t get to him. We’ve been trying non-stop.” 

Would Sam want you to make such decisions on his behalf? Max was looking paler than usual and was clearly in pain. You couldn’t wait till midnight to start him on medication. It was killing you to see him hurting like this.

“Screw the insurance. I’ll pay whatever the bill comes out to be… and I’ll sign off on the papers as well.”

Cas gave you an apprehensive look. “Y/N?”

“Look,” you said through your teeth, “I’m still his legal guardian. I have that right. Just start him on the medication. I can’t bear to see him like this.”

“Alright.” Cas said something to the nurse behind him who rushed out and then came back with a syringe. 

“This is going to hurt just a little, Max,” Cas said, flicking at the needle.

You crouched down next to Max’s head. “You’re my brave boy, aren’t you? One little prick and that will be all. You’ll feel so much better afterwards. Can you do that?” 

Max gave you one quick jerk of his neck. “Close your eyes.” He did. 

Cas pushed the needle into the tiny crease of Max’s arm and you flinched, tears pouring down your cheeks. Max did not even make a whimper. The nurse stuck a piece of white tape over the puncture mark after Cas was done.

“You need to swallow these two little tablets,” Cas said, handing them to Max along with a glass of water. Max looked at you and you nodded encouragingly. Without any fuss, he did as Cas said. You hugged Max very tightly to your chest. “You’re the bravest little thing in this world, you know that? And I’m so damn proud of you. You get every cookie you can think of when you feel better, yeah?”

“We’ll keep him here till the nausea subsides,” said Cas. “Once he feels better, you can take him home.”

Cas seemed concerned, but it wasn’t directed at Max- which made you feel better. It was directed at you. “You better sign off on those papers, Y/N.”

“Can you please bring them here?” You pleaded. “I don’t want to leave Max.” The boy in question was still hugging your middle tightly.

“Of course.”

It was with shivering hands that you filled out the form. You stared at the paper for a whole minute before ticking off on the small box in the relationship to the patient column against mother. Max had fallen asleep in your arms and the tears just wouldn’t stop. You knew he was going to be okay, the fever was already coming down and he had stopped shivering. Sweat dewed up on his forehead. 

Occasionally you wiped it off with the back of your sleeve. 

But you were terrified of this feeling- like the world would go dark if a single wrong thing happened to this boy. There was a point in your life when you were ready to own up to this feeling, looking forward to it even- and then you had lost it, along with every other emotion in your heart. Since the day you had met Max, you’d been dancing along the edge of the precipice of this very feeling- this selfless, immense love. Not ready to take the leap. Scared that you’d be shattered if you did.

Were you scared of being a bad mother? Or were you simply scared of being a mother? 

As you sat there, alone, in the small clinical room, with Max softly snoring in your lap, you realised that what you truly feared above and beyond everything was giving in to feeling this love and losing it again. 

If you accepted him as your son, and then something happened to him, you wouldn’t make it out of it alive. Literally. Not accepting Sam’s love and a place in his and Max’s life was not only a product of your doubts and self-hatred. It was a plain survival instinct. The epiphany was so strong, it left you breathless.

You felt a hand against your shoulder. Cas’s blue eyes were sympathetic in their depth. “You can take him home now, Y/N.” He didn’t try to reassure you beyond it. He had a subtle way of comforting without saying the words out loud.

You called Alex again, who had been reading in the waiting room and she drove you back to Max’s place. He’d been asleep through the ride, right until you put him to bed. Insisting that Alex go back home and study for her exams, you stripped down to your tank top, pulled on a pair of Sam’s tracks. After making sure that Max was still out, you cleaned up your clothes, and the mess on the floor and side of Max’s bed. You didn’t dare close the door of the bathroom, lest Max call out to you and you couldn’t answer. 

Taking the chance, you made some chicken soup for him, and only then did you wake him up, gently. 

Max called out for Sam the moment he opened his eyes and your heart broke again. Doing your best to reassure him that Sam was on his way, you cajoled Max into changing out of his dirty clothes and into fresh ones. 

He refused to eat the soup, but with soft insistence, you persuaded him to finish half a bowl of it. 

“You’ll read to me?” He said in a muted, dull voice as you tucked him back in the bed.

“Of course, sweetheart, what do you want me to read?”

“Anything.”

You looked around the room, your eyes landing on the only book over his nightstand. 

“Alright, here we go.” You flipped to the page with a bookmark. “We could not wait for Atticus to come home for dinner, but called and said we had a big surprise for him. He seemed surprised when he saw most of the back yard in the front yard, but he said we had done a jim-dandy job. “I didn’t know how you were going to do it,” he said to Jem, “but from now on I’ll never worry about what’ll become of you, son, you’ll always have an idea...”

*********

It was stupid and incredibly irresponsible on Sam’s part to let his phone drain out completely. Even worse, he’d left it to charge in the meeting room and forgotten to check it in the next couple of hours while he met with the children in the boy’s home. He came back to 17 missed calls and 23 text messages- from Alex and Y/N. 

Max was sick and he’d had no idea.

Sam had frantically called first thing after going through the texts. Y/N had picked up only to whisper that Max was better and asleep, and that Sam needn’t worry. For the next five hours, Sam worried ceaselessly anyway. It drove Chase up the wall, but he played his music loudly in the car all the way till Sam dropped him off and didn’t point out how Sam was a total maniac. 

The clock on his dashboard blinked 1:22 as he made the bend to his house.

Sam parked the car all wrong in the driveway, barely giving it a second thought before running inside. He should’ve been quieter, knowing Max was asleep, but the anxiety barely kept his legs moving. He would have continued at the same rate through Max’s door if the scene before him hadn’t made him stop.

On the bed, Max was sleeping peacefully. He was dressed in a thin cotton t-shirt, the lower half of his body was covered in his blanket. That wasn’t what made Sam stop. Y/N was curled up beside him, her arm thrown around Max, who was nextled so comfortably in her embrace that he belonged there. Max’s book was balanced over Y/N’s hip, wedged open on the page she had been reading out of. On the nightstand, stood a bowl of cold soup, half empty, along with water and strips of medicine. The table on Y/N’s side held a cooking pot filled with water and a washcloth lay dipped in it. She’d been nursing him- from fever or the sweat, Sam couldn’t say.

Slowly, he walked up to Max, and very very carefully placed the back of his hand on his forehead. No fever. 

Sam looked about himself. The floor was strewn with Max’s clothes that smelled like he had been sick over them. Sam picked up the clothes and carried them to the washing machine. Inside was already a dry load of clothes that belonged to Y/N and him. So Max had thrown up on her. More than once.

Sam knew from the messages that Y/N had taken Max to the hospital- had her friend, whom she trusted implicitly take a look at his son, signed the papers as his guardian and paid the bill out of her pocket.

The thought occurred to Sam as he undressed for the night. In that last message, Y/N had apologised for signing off on Sam’s behalf, as if he could ever be mad at her for dropping whatever she was doing to look after his son, the way a mother would.

Sam understood now why Max had thrown a fit when Sam had forbidden him from seeing Y/N. It had hurt Sam that he couldn’t be enough for Max, that Max was looking for something more in Y/N. But seeing them together now, Sam could see he had been completely wrong. Max wasn’t asking something more, he’d been asking for what already belonged to him- Y/N’s love. Max had been right all along.

Sam pulled the covers and duvet off his bed and dragged to Max’s room where he laid them out at the foot of Max’s bed, so he’d be sleeping next to him on the floor. An alarm started going off on Y/N’s phone, and Sam jumped to turn it off. It was already 2 O’ clock. She had set successive alarms for every hour of the night, Sam presumed to check on Max. Sam turned off all of them. He was home now, he could take care of it. 

He checked Max’s temperature once more- still normal- and then bent down to place a kiss on his forehead. It was almost November. Max always had bouts of viral or flu in the cold months. He should have foreseen it. If Y/N hadn’t been around…

The expression on her face was so peaceful as she held onto his boy, tears sprang into Sam’s eyes. This was everything he wanted in his life. Everything. Right in front of him. He bent down once more and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. She didn’t wake at his touch, but adjusted herself closer to Max on the tiny bed, the book falling off her hip with a soft thud onto the thick carpet. 

Sam lay down on the floor, thinking of a night very long ago when Y/N had fallen asleep on the  sofa in his house, back in Lawrence. He’d read to her from this very book that night- for the first time. Sam had slept besides her on the floor that night as well. A writer would have called the parallel poetic… but Sam saw it for what it was, shrouded in a mist of uncertainty all around him- a haunting ache inside his soul.

He couldn’t thank her for what she’d done for his Max today- not only would that gesture be insufficient, it would be insulting. No, Sam wouldn’t thank her. Instead, he would check up on Max every hour, make her breakfast in bed, and iron her clothes before she woke up, so she wouldn't be late for classes tomorrow. He would pack her a lunch and kiss her goodbye at the door. Maybe she would see through him and understand how incredibly grateful he was for today… and how tragically hopeful he was for the future, when he could do these simple things everyday without the excuse of an unsaid thank you.

“I love you, Darling,” he whispered. “It can only ever be you.”

*****************************

A/N 2: It’s been a hard, awful few days. I must be made up of stronger stuff than I thought I was.

Please do let me know if you liked this part. Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated. 

Five more chapters to go!

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[365days365movies]

March 21, 2021: Orlando (1992)

Tilda Swinton...confuses me.

Like, in a good way. Because Tilda may be the most versatile actor working today. I mean, look at the goddamn filmography, and you’ll see what I’ve mean. I’ve seen Tilda Swinton in a lot, surprisingly, and I don’t think anything I’ve seen was bad. For example, I am an ARDENT defender in the portrayal of the Ancient One in the MCU.

I understand the controversy here, but I actually think this is excellent casting. Especially considering...being comic book-accurate would NOT have been a good idea with this role, if we’re trying to AVOID controversy. But Tilda Swinton FUCKING KILLED IT in this role, and I will always be happy for this choice.

Let’s see, there’s Jadis in the Narnia films, as shown at the top, there’s Snowpiercer, as Mason (an amazing character, and an acting job that Swinton disappears into), Moonrise Kingdom as Social Services, The Grand Budapest Hotel as Madame D., and Gabriel in Constantine. Which is a good segue to the next talking point...

Gabriel is pointedly androgynous, and honestly, Tilda Swinton kind of is as well. You may have noticed that I haven’t used any pronouns in referencing to Tilda Swinton, entirely out of respect. Gonna be a little hard to keep up with, so I’ll be using she/her from here on out, only because those are the pronouns that Swinton’s most recently promoted for herself. She’s also referred to herself as queer of some variety, as well as being famously gender non-conforming.

Which is fitting, given that a lot of that public image began with today’s movie, one of her first big roles. I’ll be revisiting Swinton in the independent movie scene in a couple of months, but this may be a good introduction. Instead of spoiling anything off the bat, I’m gonna jump right in. And so, I present: Orlando. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We begin with a young man named, well, Orlando (Tilda Swinton), a young man with a feminine appearance and a good upbringing. His name means power land and property, but all he really wants is company. He writes and rests by a tree in the day, but falls asleep by mistake. When he wakes up, he runs back to where he’s meant to be, with a tribute to Queen Elizabeth I (Quentin Crisp) playing in the background. And that’s a REAL song, by the way, actually sung in the 1600s for Elizabeth! Very neat.

A title screen flashes, reading “1600: Death”, and we see where Orlando is meant to be. He speaks poetry for the Queen and her court, but is interrupted by the aged queen, who asks whether or not his poem is appropriate for her presence, as the poem is about youth, and Queen Elizabeth is not that. Orlando’s father (John Bott), who is serving as host to Elizabeth, intervenes on his behalf. However, it doesn’t seem to matter to the Queen, as she invites Orlando back to England to serve as her “favourite”. He accepts, and soon lives alongside the Queen. She quickly promises Orlando much land and property, for him and his heirs, but on one condition: that he does not fade, wither, or grow old. 

The same wish cannot be applied to Elizabeth herself, nor to his father, as both grow old and die soon afterwards. Fast forward 10 years, and it’s a cold winter in England. Visiting Orlando’s vast estate is a woman from Russia, named Sasha (Charlotte Valandrey), and Orlando quickly falls for her. This is to the dismay of Euphrosne (Anna Healy), his fiancée? I’m not sure, to be honest, but they’re definitely involved, and she’s definitely upset.

However, this is also a scandal for everybody else as well, not just because Orlando’s already engaged, but also because Sasha is Russian, during a particularly poor economic period for the country. Euphrosne angrily throws his ring back at him, and Orlando speaks directly to the audience, telling us that a man must follow his heart. The two go to his private cottage, and they start to make out, when Orlando suddenly comes down with intense melancholy.

Because this is such great happiness that he feels, but this happiness too will one day end. Which is, like, the most emo-shit I’ve ever heard, but I’m kinda here for it. And yet, that happiness does indeed end, when Sasha is forced to return to Russia, despite Orlando’s pleading for her to stay. He asks her to meet him at London Bridge, so that they may elope together.

Later, Orlando happens upon a performance of Othello, noting to us that it’s a terrific play. This is as the death of Othello is being played out, so that’s probably foreshadowing, right? Anyway, Orlando leads two horses through the thick fog, waiting for Sasha to arrive and come away with him. But as a storm sets in, there is no sign of Sasha. And Orlando stands there in the rain. Said rain, though, soon becomes ice, underneath his feet, floating away down the river, along with his hopes of a happy future with Sasha. The treachery of women, according to Orlando.

Over the next week, Orlando languishes in his bed, asleep for the entire time. Increasingly more servants are brought up to try and rouse him, only for him to remain asleep, no matter what they do. But then, he wakes up, noting that he can only conjure three words to describe women, none of them worth explaining.

Forty years later, and the title screen cries “Poetry”! And Orlando looks exactly the same. Guess he really took that whole “don’t grow old” thing from Elizabeth to heart, huh? He speaks to a poet, Nick Greene (Heathcote Williams), and gushes about his poetry, which is a pursuit that he loves greatly. But Nick is...well, Nick is kind of a dick, to be honest. Orlando wants only to share his love and his poetry with him, but Nick’s only in it for the money. Not a true artist, and he mocks Orlando’s poetry, which he reads only after Orlando offers him money. And then, he writes a poem mocking Orlando further, which angers Orlando...but doesn’t stop the money flowing to Nick.

Orlando moves onto his next pursuit, in 1700, in the next section: Politics. Now over 100 years old, Orlando becomes an ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, and travels to Constantinople. There, he receives a somewhat rough and awkward greeting, which Orlando is not helping with. They share some Turkish coffee, Orlando has trouble drinking that Turkish coffee, they drink a LOT of Turkish coffee, and they toast to multiple things, including the “beauty of women, and the joys of love.” Orlando pauses at this, and reveals that he is still suffering quite a bit of heartbreak. His Turkish friend, the Khan (Lothaire Bluteau), bonds with him about this.

After 10 years, Orlando has fully retreated into life as a Turkish man. This is interrupted by a British emissary, sent to bring him news of a new appointment and power from the Queen. However, something goes wrong when the Khan arrives and takes Orlando hostage. The city is under attack, and the Khan asks Orlando if he will help against their enemies. Orlando agrees, and gives them arms, and heads to help himself at the walls. There, he witnesses a man dying, and it shakes him greatly. And just like before, he sleeps it off for seven days. And then...she wakes up.

YUP. WHAT.

Yeah, um, Orlando is now a woman. Like she says: “Same person, just a different sex.” Which is a very interesting premise, not gonna lie. Looks like Orlando now has to live life as a woman, which is going to be...difficult in 1700s Turkey. Or England. Or anywhere. Or any time.

Still, Orlando approaches this new life with aplomb, and without really any needed caution. Parading in some awesome dresses, she greets fellow nobility as the lady Orlando. However, the emissary from earlier, Archduke Harry (John Wood), begins to recognize her as similar to the lord Orlando.

In speaking with a group of poets, however, Orlando learns EXACTLY what men think of women in this society, and it’s not even a little bit good. She leaves, enraged and embarrassed. Harry also speaks with her, assuming that she was a woman all along. However, Orlando’s in EVEN MORE shit, as she’s quickly served with papers that are an attempt to take away all of her property and titles, because Lord Orlando is legally dead, and Lady Orlando is a woman, which one of them says is basically the same thing. FUCKIN’ YIKES, BRUV.

Ah, but Harry tries to help by proposing to her ON THE FUCKIN’ SPOT. He believed that Orlando was perfect as both genders, and is happy to do it. However, Orlando understandably refuses, and after Harry tells her that she will die as a spinster, alone and dispossessed, she runs into a nearby hedge maze. And while in the hedge maze, time passes, and her outfit changes to match the period accordingly.

Forward 140 years now! The year is 1850, and a new chapter begins: Sex.

And as she runs from the maze, she runs into who else...but Shelmerdine (Billy Zane), a man who...Shelmerdine? SHELMERDINE? What fuckin’ witch cursed his entirely family line to have THAT name? That’s the kind of family that was named AFTER a bridge, not the other way around! WHAT KINDA NAME IS FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE?

Well, I’ve looked it up now, and it is apparently a real name. So, if any Shelmerdines are reading this...I mean, I’m sorry, but also, FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE? OK, back to Shelmerdine. He’s twisted his ankle falling off his horse, and Orlando is now taking care of him. She reveals, in the process, that she’s about to lose everything. The reasons for that aren’t quite said, but Shelmerdine offers a place at his side, back to the great free land of America.

After having a conversation about the roles of men and women in the world (which is interesting given the context of the film in general), the two fulfill the chapter’s imperative. And we never see the act, but we do get some interesting angles and hand-holding. But the next morning, this post-coital reverie is interrupted by the lawyers from the Queen. The lawsuits have been settled, and Orlando has been legally declared a woman, meaning that unless she has a son, all of her possessions will be lost.

Shelmerdine (I swear, every time I say that name, a fairy gets chlamydia) leaves as well, with the southwest wind. As he heads back to America to fight for freedom, Orlando stands in the rain, facing an uncertain future, and broken fully by the politics of the time period.

And then...the sound of planes overhead. Looks like a new time period once again, heading into the periods of World Wars, and Orlando is now...heavily pregnant. OH. FUCK. Welcome to the next chapter: Birth.

We jump past the period of World War II, and to the 1990s! Orlando is presenting a book to a publisher, and he believes that the book will sell. With her young daughter in tow, she finally goes back to her old mansion, now finally able to go back after losing it 100 years prior. The narration from the beginning repeats, recontextualized for Orlando’s new life. She is over 400 years old, and finally, FINALLY...she is happy.

And that’s Orlando! I think I loved it. Real talk, this was a fascinating movie, and I’m into it. I’m very much into it. I’m sure there’s more to be gleaned from this film, but I’m glad I watched it regardless. More in the Review, though! See you there!

[captainsolare]

Hiiii Cap 🥰 Can I get Yami fluff? 💕 Roll 4 times for AU, 1 time for dialogue prompt and 3 times for trope 💕 Thank you!!

A/N: Hi Nati!! I hope you enjoy it! Prince Yami is a very dreamy idea.

Yami Fluff + Royalty AU! + Locked in a (chamber) + "I wish I could hate you."

Yami stretched, nearly falling out of the tree he was perched in. He steadied himself, taking a long breath of air before leaning back against the tree; they’d be looking for him soon, they always did. Like clockwork, he heard footsteps rushing into the courtyard, “Prince Yami! I know you’re here in one of these trees, you have royal duties to attend to.”

Rolling his eyes, he hopped out of the tree, landing with a thud on the ground below. It was Finral, his primary keeper that had come for him this time.

“There you are! Prince you can’t keep going off like this, it worries the King.” Finral chastised, ushering him down the long hallway to Yami’s office.

Yami sighed, “I know, I know. But paperwork is boring.” He sat down at his desk, eyeing the files that sat untouched upon it.

Finral crossed his arms, fixing Yami with his sternest glare, but it failed like always and his gaze softened. “I know it’s no fun, but you must attend to your princely duties.”

The door shut with a click and Finral returned to his post outside it.

Yami sighed, putting his feet on the desk and flipping open the first file. “If he’s so worried about me, why doesn’t he ever come to see me?”

-

Once night fell you scaled the castle wall easily, keeping to the shadows. You’d spent weeks memorizing the guards’ schedule, figuring out the weaknesses in this impenetrable castle, and now was the perfect time to act. You had managed to get a map of the inside of the castle before you came here, and by now had committed it to memory.

If your intel was to be believed, the item you were looking for was kept in Prince Yami’s desk, the second drawer from the top, right-hand side. You crept along the walls, thankful for your camouflage cloak when a pair of guards went past your position. The trip to the second floor was quick work, but now came the hard part, you’d need to make it into the Prince’s room without getting caught. You found an empty room a few doors down and snuck inside, preparing to stand on the window ledge and scale across that way.

The window opened with surprising ease and you stepped outside after making sure the coast was clear. You could only pray that there was no one awake in the rooms between your current position and the room you were trying to get to. Thankfully, it seemed as if all the lights were off in the rooms between, so you should be able to slip past without detection. You made it to the Prince’s room and crouched down, praying the window wouldn’t open too loudly.

To your relief, the window opened with ease, and you smiled. It was obvious from the wear that the Prince often used this window to sneak out. You entered the room cautiously, boots thudding softly on the carpeted floor. The desk was across the room, but based on the snores you heard from the Prince’s bed, getting there shouldn’t be a problem.

You opened the drawer and just as your intel had said, there lay the ruby bracelet, ripe for the taking. Soon, you’d be off somewhere remote with plenty of pocket change. Your only way out of here was back the way you came, so you started heading off in that direction, but there was a whoosh of steel and a sword was placed dangerously close to your neck.

“Who are you?” Prince Yami asked, voice rumbly from sleep. “Just a thief.” You replied quietly, there was no talking your way out of this one. You raised your hands in submission, dropping the bracelet. Yami released the sword from your neck and picked up the bracelet, putting it in his pocket. Before he could ask for your name you were taking off across the room, trying to get to the window before he could stop you.

“Wait!” He whispered harshly, “Don’t step… there.”

There was a loud clicking sound, you’d stepped on a trap door. The floor opened up, sending you both tumbling into the pit below. The pit was surprisingly soft at the bottom, as you patted your hand around you realized it was hay.

“Are you okay?” You heard the Prince ask. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could make him out in the ambient light.

“Yes, I am.”

“That’s good to hear.” He leaned against the wall of the pit, hair disheveled from sleep and from your fall into this place.

An uncomfortable silence settled over you, only the sound of your breaths breaking it.

“Any idea when we can get out of here?” You asked, watching him with hopeful eyes.

Yami sighed, “Not until morning. My knight will come looking for me then and he’ll be able to let us out.”

You smiled sadly, “I see, and I guess after that happens I’ll be executed.”

“Probably.”

The silence fell over you again, this time a more somber one.

“What’s your name?” Yami asked, turning to face you.

You took a breath, wondering if this was a good idea, then decided to just tell him, if you were to die anyway, it would be nice to make a friend first.

“It’s Y/N.”

“I see, that’s a pretty cool name.”

You laughed, “You think so? It seems pretty normal to me.”

Yami smiled, “Maybe so. You’ll have to forgive me, I don’t have many friends.”

“Really? I’d expect a handsome prince such as yourself to be surrounded by them.”

Yami laughed, a deep rumbly chuckle that you could feel in your own chest, “I suppose it may appear that way, but really it’s just people that want to suck up to me because of my title.”

You nodded, fixing your gaze upwards, “I know how that goes.”

Yami squinted, surprised at your admission, “Really? You don’t seem the type.”

You laughed and Yami cocked his head, studying your face best he could in this light, “Even royals can become disgraced Prince Yami. I used to be in a similar position to yourself, but I ran away, needed to get out of that place.”

You scooted closer to each other as you continued with your story, Yami settled his elbows on his knees.

“I used to have dreams about leaving, buying my own house by the seaside, living independently. No maids or servants, just me.” Your voice sounded almost wistful as you spoke, and Yami thought of his own dreams.

“I want to leave this place too.”

“Is that so? Where would you go?” You cocked an eyebrow, studying him. Prince Yami was attractive in a rugged sort of way, his jaw was chiseled and covered with stubble, and even in this dim light, you could tell how muscular he was.

Yami straightened, his eyes full of a hopeful sparkle, “I want to go live in the forest and open my own Knight Training academy. I’d take in the misfits from the Kingdom, those who have no place else to go. Maybe we’d be a family of sorts, it would certainly be better than what I have here.”

You smiled, a wistful sadness overtaking you, “That sounds lovely Prince Yami.”

“Oh please, call me Yami, there’s no need for formality here. And really? You don’t think it’s dumb?”

“No, not at all. In fact, I think it’s a noble dream.”

The two of you talked for a while longer, until your eyes were bleary with sleep. You huddled together for warmth as the pit became colder.

“I’m sorry I got us into this mess Yami.” You said softly, you had scooted next to him now, your head resting lightly on his chest.

Yami chuckled softly, “I wish I could hate you for it but the truth is, this is the first time I’ve been able to be this open with anyone in quite a while.”

“I see, well that’s comforting to hear.”

Yami got the spark of an idea, “Y/N.”

“Yes?”

He sat up excitedly, and you pulled away so you could look at him better.

“What if I did open that training school, and what if you were my first recruit? If you didn’t end up being executed of course. We could find a spot in the woods near the seaside, there is such a place, I’ve seen it. And we could open that school together! You’ve already proven that you can be sneaky, you could train our knights in stealth techniques.”

Yami’s words were kind, you could find hope being stoked in your heart, but you knew it couldn’t happen. You surely would be executed for trespassing and attempted theft.

“But… how would that happen? I will surely be killed in the morning.”

“Not if I lie.”

“Lie? What could you possibly come up with that could get me out of my inevitable fate?”

“You’ll see, I am excellent at talking my way out of things.”

You wished you could believe him.

-

The trapdoor was opened sometime later, letting the harsh light of the morning into your prison.

“Prince Yami, how many times have I told you to be careful? I have pointed the spot of the trapdoor to you many many times now.” A voice from above said.

“I know Finral, I’m sorry.”

You and Yami climbed from the pit and Finral drew his knife. You tried not to panic, but the possibility of you being thrown in jail, and worse, were almost certain now.

“Who is this Prince Yami? Are they a criminal? Did they trespass into your room?”

Yami put a hand up, gesturing for Finral to put the knife down.

“No, they aren’t, and no they didn’t. This is Y/N, and the past few months we have been discussing plans for my training academy, in secret of course.”

Finral blinked, looking from you to Yami and back again. “Is this where you have been running off to then?”

Yami nodded sheepishly, “Yes, I didn’t want to tell you because you’d already warned me against such actions.”

“Prince Yami, you already know I support you fully. In fact, I have already found a property in the woods like you wanted. I’ve even cleared your plan for the school with the King.”

Yami sucked in a breath, “Is the ocean close by too?”

When Finral nodded, you and Yami clasped each other's hands excitedly, then you wrapped Finral into a tight hug.

“This is great! When can we set off?” Yami asked, chuckling as Finral took deep breaths after being let go.

“Right now if we hurry.”

“Great! I will pack my bags.”

Finral nodded and set off to pack his own.

“Well?” Yami turned to you, eyes full of hope, “Do you still want to come? If you want to leave there will be no hard feelings.”

To his delight, you smiled, taking his hand in your own. “Of course I do.”

Over the course of one night, your life had completely changed, and you were filled with hope once more. Maybe, just maybe, you could make a difference here, unlike in your own kingdom. As you watched Yami buzzing about, packing his things, you couldn’t help but smile, maybe you could find love here as well.

[djemsostylist]

This is not Eda Yildiz's Story...

With SCK’s return in season 2 and this highly polarizing plot, I’ve seen a lot of talk and debate about plot and character and the direction of the show. I’ve complained enough on my tumblr that I think it’s pretty obvious where I stand, but lately I’ve been thinking less about what I hate and rather why it doesn’t work. Like it or hate it, I think we can all agree that the plot and direction of the show is strange. The story has been a mess, arguably, since the early teens. Once we’d finished Ayse’s initial arc, it was clear we were moving into “plot” controlled territory, and that trend continued. I don’t think anyone can deny that the new story follows a similar narrative “shift” that seems to have dominated the story since the 30s. It feels different, and I think that feeling has continued even with the return of the original writer. It sort of crystallized for me when I was watching one of summer’s new show, Cam Tavanlar. 40 minutes in and we had yet to meet the male lead, and it was then that I realized that’s it.

I’ve seen a lot of talk about how feminist SCK is, and how this is “Eda’s” story. Fans have long asked the question “when is Eda going to graduate?” and it’s a valid question if Eda is our main character, since that is one of her two primary motivations. It's worth noting before we begin that I like Eda--I loved her for the first 28 episodes, her portrayal by Hande is excellent, and she is a fun and easy character to love. But rewatching the early episodes of the show and then watching Cam Tavanlar made me realize the issue at hand: this isn’t Eda’s story, and she is not, nor has she ever been, the main character. The story of SCK is the story of Serkan Bolat--I just don’t think anyone realized it.

Let’s think about Eda for a moment. When we meet Eda, she is a down-on-her-luck college drop out. She’s lost her scholarship and is stuck working at her aunt’s flower shop until she figures out what to do with her life. From the first episode, we learn a few things. She has two main goals--graduate, and be with the man she loves. We also learn a little about her character--she is determined, strong-willed, stubborn, impulsive, kind-hearted, and loving. She believes in seeing the best in people (unless their name is Serkan Bolat), and she values family and friends above almost everything else. Her introduction shows her as slightly frazzled, a little overwhelmed, and very young.

Over the next 11 episodes, we learn surprisingly little else about her. These are the things we know:

She lives with her aunt after her parent’s untimely death which affects her to this day.

She blames her grandmother for their death and is scared of her control.

She and Melo have known each other since they were children.

She works with orphans and loves the idea of helping children.

She loves plants and flowers.

She likes dogs.

She has plans for two children someday.

She wants to study in Italy.

She used to own a charm bracelet.

She is claustrophobic, which is likely connected to her fainting when she is stressed because of a claustrophobic situation when she learned of her parents’ passing.

What we don’t know could fill books. We don’t know exactly why she blames her grandmother for their death. We don’t know if Eda actually knows/has met her grandmother after her aunt took her and left. We don’t know how she met or knows either Ceren or Fifi. We don't know why she wants to be a landscape architect, or what drew her to want to study in Italy. We don’t know why she never pursued any other options when she lost her scholarship. We don’t know how she got the scholarship in the first place (grades, essay, project, some combination?). We don’t know her long term goals other than graduate and get married. Does she want her own company, is there a project she really wants or a company she would love to work for? We don’t really even know her feelings on relationships and marriage. How long did she date Cenk? How did they meet? What did she hope for their future? We don’t know anything about her childhood or how she was raised, and we aren’t even that clear on her relationship with her aunt, since it vacillates from almost no guidance at all to extremely controlling and manipulative. The point is, Eda is still, even 39 episodes in, more a collection of traits than a fully realized character.

Eda starts Episode 1 as a headstrong, independent, impulsive, kind, strong-willed, determined woman who wants to graduate and be with the man she loves. She ends episode 12 exactly the same--different man, same goals, same traits. She ends the way she starts.

The next 12 are the same. Eda starts as a headstrong, independent, impulsive, kind, strong-willed, determined woman who wants to graduate and be with the man she loves. She ends episode 24 the same way. This time, everything is the same as it was 12 episodes ago--same man, same goals, same traits. Again, what changes does Eda truly go through in these episodes? Any? Does she learn to think before she acts? Does she learn to temper her stubbornness? Does she define her future goals?

Let’s look at Serkan Bolat. When we meet Serkan, he is the successful CEO of an architecture firm returning from a business trip. His main goal--his only goal--is to achieve success and recognition in business. We also learn a little about his character--he is a stubborn, strong-willed, independent, closed-off man who prioritizes work over everything. He believes love is a fairy tale, and that all relationships are ultimately contracts no different from work contracts. His introduction is calm, cool, collected, and in control.

Over the next 11 episodes, we learn A LOT about Serkan. We learn:

He had an older brother he was very close to. His brother was the golden child and the center of his family, who was a musician. We learn that Serkan was very close to him, and that his brother’s death rocked the foundations of his entire family.

He was sent away by his father to boarding school at an early age because his mother had a mental breakdown and couldn’t cope and his father wasn’t capable of handling it.

A lot about his relationship with his parents, their goals and expectations for him, and why he is so closed off and has a hard time making meaningful connections as a result of how he was raised.

That he has wanted to be an architect since he was a child, which is how long he has loved magic and the stars.

He studied astronomy in college.

He believes in supporting the education of young people.

He rescued his dog.

He moved home to be close to his mother who suffers from agoraphobia.

Where he met all of his close friends and enemies.

His feelings on relationships and marriage.

His fears and insecurities.

His hypochondria.

His various talents (horseback riding, car racing, swimming, guitar playing).

In fact, there is very little we don’t know about Serkan Bolat.

Serkan starts episode 1 as a strong-willed, closed-off, business minded asshole who believes all relationships are contracts and doesn’t believe in love. He ends the first 12 as a more open, giving, softer version of himself, who believes in love and the importance of a relationship and whose goal is no longer just to be a businessman, but to prioritize the needs of the woman he loves over his own.

Over the next 12 episodes, we see Serkan learn to navigate what it means to be in a relationship--to learn to trust, to give and take, to let go of control, or let his feelings guide him, and to be open and honest with what he feels and how he loves. We go from a Serkan who couldn’t say the word “love” when talking in private to his best friend and thought apologizing by email was the best choice, to a man who can sit in a room full of people and declare openly his love for the woman beside him. When the series comes to a close in 28, we have a Serkan Bolat whose priority is love and family, and whose main goal is to become a husband and father.

Serkan, from episodes 1-28, experiences an entire arc, from consummate businessman to family man. He goes from closed and cold to open and warm. From a man who can’t even bring himself to explain that he doesn’t love his ex-girlfriend, to a man who can openly sit and talk about how much he loves his fiancee. He goes from a man whose friends drift around the periphery of his life, to a man whose newest friend is a former business rival. He grows and changes and develops, and each of the storylines, from the fake contract in 1-12 to the breakup in 13-24, to working towards marriage in 25-28, all bring this about.

Even the story is shot to show us Serkan's pov. How many times do we see Eda through his eyes? How many times do we get to focus on Serkan and his reactions, whether it’s to Eda, to news, to his feelings? Think about it. If the story is really about Eda, then all the focus in the teens should be on Eda. And while we certainly see her reactions, the story is squarely centered on Serkan and his feelings. 13 is about his relationship with his father, dealing with his company in crisis, and making the choice to go to Italy with Eda. 14 is about him coming to grips with the news and deciding what he wants to do. 15/16 are watching him deal with the fallout and the loss of Eda in his life. 17 is about his fears and hopes for children and a family with Eda. 18/19 are him coming to realize how desperately he wants and needs her in his life. Eda gets reaction time sure, but she’s not the focus--Serkan is. Think about the episodes I just described--what does Eda really do in any of them?

Even their family and friends. Eda’s life is filled with people who are less characters and more set dressing for her story. Ayfer begins and ends our series as a character who seems to be whatever the narrative requires--she has no real defining personality traits, and her backstory is nonexistent. She has no life beyond Eda and the girls, and it isn’t even until after Ayse is gone that we start to see hints of her maybe becoming a real character. The results were disappointing, but I give props to the writers for giving Ayfer some kind of plot beyond “the flower shop is suddenly in a monetary crisis”. Fifi, Ceren, and Melo don’t fare much better. Ceren we know has the desire to be a shoe designer and has a rich lawyer daddy. She at least gets a side plot with Engin where we can see her as more of a person than Fifi, who was basically never a character at all. Melo fares the best, although much like Eda, she is boiled down to a few basic traits that don’t change. Eda’s life is otherwise devoid of color and life--no neighborhood friends or acquaintances, no backstory for her childhood. She seems to spring into our story like a fairy fully formed, and there is no real effort made to develop her at all.

Contrast this to Serkan’s family, where we get to watch not only his parents, but also Engin and even Piril and Ferit, grow and change. We see Aydan go from a stubborn, nasty, judgmental woman to a woman who is kind, open, and supportive of her son and the woman she wants to be her daughter. We see his father is more than merely an absent dad, but a man who is so stuck in his ways he is unable to open up--until Eda. (That his story is ruined is neither here nor there). Engin goes from a goofy sidekick to a competent husband and. Even Piril learns to unclench, Ferit goes from a doofy, hanger on to one of Serkan’s greatest supports.

The point is, the story of SCK is the story of how Serkan Bolat learned to open himself up to love, family, and the possibility of a life beyond work. That Eda is an essential part of that story goes without saying, but it is, ultimately, his story. It’s funny, but I remember at the end of 28 saying that I missed Serkan Bolat. My friends laughed at me “he’ll be back next week” and while at the time I was being dramatic, I realized it’s true. Because Serkan Bolat’s story was done at the end of 28 episodes. When he made the decision to get married to the woman he loves, to prioritize her over everything, to become a husband and father, his story came to a beautiful and natural close. Their love story was really his story, the story of two people who came together and loved each other, and the ways in which that love allowed him to live a full life.

Any story that would come after centered on Serkan wouldn’t make sense. At best, we could have a few episodes of Serkan as a married man, but really, he doesn’t have much else to give us. So, if the story was going to continue, something had to change. And that means finding a new character’s story to tell. Eda, naturally, fits the bill. Since her story and growth has taken a back seat to Serkan, it makes sense to pivot and make her the main character. At the end of 28, one of her goals has been fulfilled--be with the man she loves. Therefore, naturally, the next part of the story, the story she will now be telling, will be the other half of that goal--graduate and become a successful architect.

As Eda steps into the lead role, we no longer have a need to focus on a story about two people falling in love and how that love grows and changes them. That story was Serkan’s story, and the new story we are telling has Serkan in the supporting role, while Eda learns to navigate the corporate world. Her story is that of a woman who must balance work and life, motherhood and the job, family and friends while also running a successful business. In this new story, we have a time jump (5 years, which is necessary both because with covid we can’t have babies on set and also because they have found the perfect actress to portray their daughter). Serkan is taking more of a backseat role, having already achieved so many of his professional goals, so while he still is a successful CEO, he also has time to take care of their child and run the minutia of day to day business life while Eda stretches her wings and becomes the business woman she has dreamed of being.

In the final episodes, we would watch as Eda goes from a headstrong, willful, stubborn, impulsive young woman, to a strong, smart, business savvy boss who continues to put her family--her husband, children, and friends--in the forefront of her life. Their love story is now merely a backseat to Eda’s growth and journey.

Except, that’s not what they did. They made Eda the main character but then tried to retell a love story that had already concluded. And to do that, they needed to reset. Everything. After all, how do you retell a love story that has already finished? How do you retell a love story that we’ve already seen playout? How do you tell a love story between two people that has had a beginning, a middle and an end? The answer, it seems, is to start over. Scrap all previous growth, character progress, and storytelling from the first arc with one of your characters, and set him right back at square 1. Or, as it appears, square -10. Take your new main character, and change her. Tweak her just enough to make her work for this new and improved story by removing enough of her core to fit in the plot. Then, move forward from there, and pray the audience doesn’t see what you’ve done until it’s far too late.

So there it is. The fundamental problem with SCK. It’s not about liking or hating it--people like what they like, and this isn’t a judgement on anyone who is fine with the new plot. I’m hardly an expert writer, and perhaps I’m overlooking some missing nuance. But I don’t think you can argue that this new direction is good. It may be enjoyable, which is always subjective, but it’s not good. I don’t think it’s the sort of thing people will look back on and say “Oh, what an excellent piece of writing and characterization!” Hardcore Ayse stans will, I think, they seem impervious to critique or critical thinking, but a read on the fandom at large seems to indicate that most people accept that the plot itself is nonsensical, but they are here for Hande and Kerem and a cute little actress and not much else. To them, having Hanker on screen for another 10 episodes is enough, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I just think that it could have been so much more, and that’s what makes this so strange. But I guess maybe that’s what happens when not even the writer realizes who her own main character truly is.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

What do your elf eyes see? Runaan and Nyx

This is exactly the kind of distraction I needed today, so please feel free to get inordinately excited about this like I did.

First, a collection of fun but seemingly unrelated eye facts in TDP:

Runaan has mild heterochromia, with his left eye being just a little lighter in hue than his right.

Viren’s eyes are gray, until Aaravos puts bug spit on one of them and turns it a nice purple like his own astral-projection eyes.

Nyx has obvious heterochromia, with one blue eye and one brown.

And the oasis in the Midnight Desert sure is fun, pretty, and mysterious.

Eyes are cool, eyes are fun. They’re pretty, and there’s some cool subtext about seeing clearly, vision, etc. etc. going on too.

But I’m gonna talk about color today. Actual literal eye color. And what it means for Runaan, Nyx, and the defense of Xadia.

Here’s a smidge of background: @kotikala​ had an awesome hc that Nyx was actually guarding the oasis, that her endless nomadic lifestyle was really so someone was always nearby for some reason. I added the observation that the big weird swoops in the black sand looked not-random, and kind of like huge (warding?) runes one might draw with the tail of an ambler, which could be refreshed against windstorms on every circuit around the desert.

The oasis is clearly Moonshadow. The obelisks, the towers, and even the tents are bristling with Moonshadow motifs.

Maybe Nyx is there because Skywings like to be mobile and Moonshadows don’t. And also because shadows are hard to come by in a desert.

So what does the oasis have to do with eyes?

Let’s set the scene with some S3 developments.

Viren’s eyes used to match, until Aaravos performed some kind of spell and turned one of them a different color.

The thing is, when one of Viren’s eyes changed color, so did one of Aaravos’s.

he looks so adorkable right side up, omg

Aaravos’s top of pupils, right and left:

Aaravos’s bottom of pupils, right and left:

In the dungeon, too, because lighting is lighting and I don’t have a 3D turnaround for his astral form:

Aaravos’s top of pupils, right and left:

Aaravos’s bottom of pupils, right and left:

His right eye, presumably, has changed to match more closely with Viren’s right, as if he has given up some of his color to affect it.

*rubs hands gleefully* So let’s take a look at Nyx and Runaan’s eyes. If their left eyes have some kind of similar connection, the blue of her left eye should match pretty closely with the blue of his right eye. So, just a quick dropper test to get us started:

Bottom of Nyx’s left and Runaan’s right eyes:

Top of Nyx’s left and Runaan’s right eyes:

UMM!! 

I... I can barely tell them apart, guys. And I can’t remember who’s is whose, so:

<Mythbuster> Remember kids, the difference between science and messing around is writing it down. </Mythbuster>

Runaan, upper iris, right eye (bg color is Nyx):

Nyx, upper iris, left eye (bg color is Runaan):

Runaan, lower iris, right eye (bg color is Nyx):

Nyx, lower iris, left eye (bg color is Runaan):

(They’re not perfectly identical--and pixels be pixels--but I don’t have a 3D turnaround headshot for Runaan to compare with Nyx’s, so I had to use a screenshot in the best lighting I could find. Even then, it’s nearly impossible for me to spot the difference.)

The design team could’ve picked any color for Nyx’s left eye if they only wanted her to be a cute Skywing with heterochromia. But they picked the colors of Runaan’s right eye. (btw I checked, and her right eye doesn’t match Ethari’s) And since we’ve seen Viren’s eye change color due to magic, and we can tell that Aaravos’s eyes don’t 100% match after the eye spell he did, I think this counts as a secret parallel in the show.

I think it means that Runaan can see through Nyx’s eye, at least sometimes. Probably with some extras that Aaravos just skipped over with Viren, like asking permission and being able to withdraw it. Consent is not Aaravos’s strong suit, but Runaan would want a willing ally for security’s sake--even if he has to work with a chaotic Skywing. (omg the Rayla parallels, omg the Callum parallels)

Why would Runaan want to do a spell like this? Security of the oasis. It’s a Moonshadow place, clearly very important since it’s guarded by the Wonderwall. And he’s the leader of the assassins. Security--protecting Xadia--is his whole job. Nyx could be some kind of ambling security camera for him.

Why would Nyx agree to something like this, though? This trope can be very iffy, and as we’ve seen with Viren, it’s easy to abuse it. Maybe their arrangement gives her almost complete autonomy in the desert with no one pestering her except some random bossy Moonshadow elf every full moon or something, and he’s not even there in person, he just knocks on her eye and asks to take a look around for a second, maybe to make sure the Wonderwall looks tip top and the tents are okay. (because Moonshadows like tents, apparently) 

We don’t know anything about the oasis yet other than what it looks like, so maybe it doesn’t get much, or any, use, and Runaan’s connection to her is more of a Use In Case Of Emergency kind of thing and they’ve never even talked aside from when the spell was created. Either way, changing eye color via a watching spell might be a small price to pay for all the cool salvage she finds all over the desert while she’s “working.”

Additionally, Nyx’s staff has Moonshadow motifs in it. Moonshadow colors, Runaan’s actual shoulder markings, Moon rune points! I love headcanoning that Ethari made it for her--and then she used it to smack his arrow. What a chaos bird.

Rayla seems to recognize something about it, while Callum’s all “Something so strangely familiar.” Yeah, you think?

Alternately, there could be some angst in here. Just because Nyx has Runaan’s eye color and an Ethari Special in her hands doesn’t mean she really wants them. Maybe she, and maybe Runaan too, feel this is one of those “duty first” kinds of things. I can see Runaan making this part of his “my heart for Xadia” mentality, doing whatever it takes, but maybe this explains why Nyx is her particular brand of chaotic. Skywings like their independence, and living with the possibility of a broody Moonshadow borrowing your eye sometimes is likely less independence than Nyx would like if she had her druthers. If she didn’t enthusiastically sign up for the eye spell, she could act more rebellious and chaotic than she normally would--destroying lighthawks, stealing dragons, you know, the whole Hanna Solo bit.

If I had to guess, I’d go with some cooperative shenaniganry, like echoes of the Order of the Phoenix from 300 years ago. Standing against Aaravos put the elves all on the same side, so Runaan resigns himself to this extra duty pretty quickly, and Nyx finds a way to answer the question “But what’s in it for me?” pretty quickly.

As for how Runaan might use this, say, while he was in an extreme situation? Well, first of all, he wouldn’t if he was planning to die in Viren’s dungeon. If he called for help, he’d only be endangering more elves. Plus, his honor was a bit tattery at the moment, and he might’ve felt he didn’t deserve saving even if it were easy (don’t, don’t get me started). 

And second, I’ve got no idea how their connection might function, except that it’s got to be different than Aaravos and Viren’s. Is it to do with her staff, maybe, and certain phases of the moon? That seems very Moonshadow. 

Also, thirdly, I don’t know how much these two characters interact, so it’s possible Runaan “I have trust issues” of the Moonshadow Elves wouldn’t trust Nyx to carry a message for him to the nearest shady pawn broker, let alone Ethari. But I did think about it, ha. I’m really hoping now that we get to see some hints or use for this connection in future seasons, whenever we get to learn more about the oasis! 

The only downside I’m getting from this wild detail and fun headcanoning is that I really enjoyed Nyx having natural heterochromia. But she’s still amazing, and her eyes are still brilliantly pretty, and I support her. 

Anyway here’s Nyx giving Rayllum the bird.

I’m cackling at the thought that she gave it to Runaan at some point, too.