#one direction was part of my and most of my mutuals’ lives and it’s just

[zouisarchive]

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[cntloup]

Mafia!Simon x Bartender!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You've been working here for ages, in this once rusty old bar which is now adorned by lively colors and music, turned into the best nightclub in the city, serving the best drinks and entertainments with the most beautiful dancers.

All in all, you have witnessed the worst and the best of this place. 

And you have come to know the people who own the place. 

In fact, you know them like the back of your hand, even better than themselves one might say. 

You're bright and perceptive, and working as a bartender in a place like this where it is jam-packed with important people all the time has its own perks. 

With a little bit of booze and honeyed words you bring out everyone’s hidden side and in no time, they’re spilling their deepest darkest secrets to who seems like just a sweet, harmless bartender. 

“Here you go.” you say to Simon, placing his usual Kentucky Bourbon on the counter, “Thanks, dove.” he says and brings the glass to his lips. 

“You know... I say don’t fuck around with the Russians!” you remark while drying the cups and placing them on the shelves. 

They asked your opinion on the matter since you’re their most trusted ally outside the group. As a matter of fact, they consider you part of the group by now. 

He chuckles before saying “That’s what I told Price.” 

“So why is he doing this?” you ask regarding cutting a deal with the Russians and Simon shrugs. 

You’ve had a weird feeling about it since they mentioned it to you. 

“Well, if any of you care about my opinion, don’t do it. It just doesn’t feel right to me.” you say with a shrug and look over to find him deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed and gorgeous brown eyes focused on somewhere far away. 

Gods, he’s so handsome! You've been fond of him for some time now, and by the looks and little touches he gives you, you’d say the feeling is somewhat mutual. 

Out of all of them, he’s always been the closest to you.  

And he’s been your biggest protector all throughout this wild ride you’ve been on together. 

He always keeps an eye on you in case any of the customers gets too close and makes you uncomfortable; God forbid if any of them gets touchy, they’d be digging their own grave by doing that. 

You come back from your daydreams after hearing him clear his throat. 

You notice you’ve been staring far too long, choosing to ignore the faint smirk on his lips. 

“Sorry... just thinking about the deal.” you lie and dip your head, busying yourself with cleaning the cups and hoping he won’t notice your burning cheeks. 

“Well, I'm off to meet John now. I'll make sure to give him your opinion too.” he says while standing from his chair, “Thanks for the drink.” he offers a small smile with a nod. 

“You’re welcome, Si... and I'm sure he won’t listen to me. His mind is set on the idea and that’s that. Not that I would ever question his decisions. I have too much respect for the man to do that. He must know something that we don’t.” you mention while grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink. 

“I can assure you that he values your opinion just as much as you do his. He'll think about it. Don't worry.” he says while gathering his stuff and placing your tip on the counter, a hefty envelope, so generous as always. 

“Simon! I can’t accept this! This is... too much! You do this every time!” you exclaim with a frown, nudging the envelope in his direction. 

“Take it. I insist. You can renovate your apartment. Last time I was there, it was a bloody mess!” he teases with a playful smirk.

“HEY!” you say in mock annoyance while throwing the rag in your hand at him.

“My apartment is fine as it is, thank you very much!” you retort, failing to hide the smile forming on your lips. 

You take the envelope hesitantly after so much persuasion on his part and wave him goodbye, feeling butterflies dance in your belly as thoughts of him linger in your mind.

You dip your head and go on with what you were doing, lost in your own world and not noticing the dark shadow lurking in the distance and standing in a corner, carefully observing the place, and most importantly... you. 

[theastrohub]

friendship synastry 👯‍♀️

@astrobaeza observations vol. 3

in conversations and the use of synastry, it’s often associated with romantic relationships. however, while love is a central theme in life, friendship is equally, if not more, significant. after all, the strongest relationships often begin as friendships or platonic connections. even though you don’t typically consider astrology when forming organic friendships, examining your friends' charts alongside your own can offer insights into how you can better complement each other's lives.

*disclaimer: these are my opinions. if you have a different take, share them in the comments please and thank youu.

to compliment this post, I am now offering friendship synastry readings for $40! this service will provide you an outline of the compatibility between you and (1) friendship of your choice, karmic aspects, the purpose of the relationship and how to strengthen your bonds and be a better friend. PM me for a sample reading, only 5 slots are open for right now!

here are some observations I had:

彡 their planets in your 1st house 一 love at first sight. first house synastry amongst friends is like the friend you made your first day of junior high and became the godparent to your child since you are that locked in. I say love at first sight because much like it, you guys were probably very drawn to each other immediately and maybe became inseparable. this makes for a powerful bond where they strengthen your self image and identity, helping you become more confident in self expression. everything flows quite easily whether it be communication, vitality, beauty, and/or harmony. this is one of the best synastry placements in my opinion as it's the most open-ended and the pros outweigh the cons.

彡 their planets in your 2nd house 一 the hype-man / woman friend. the friend who you go to for outfit and makeup opinions, the one you give your haul to when buying new things. the person that can really boost your confidence (and also make you feel really bad about yourself). the friendship is focused on money - making but especially spending it. you guys love to go out to eat, try new things, and be a tad bit boujee together. this is also someone who shapes your mindset as this is probably a friendship on shared values (if it's healthy) - **they have a direct impact on how you feel about yourself. if your self image is unstable, this synastry can be detrimental to your wellbeing so be careful.

彡 their planets in your 3rd house 一 the yappers. there is a mutual love of talking specifically to one another. your minds are on the same page as is your intellect and it makes for a lovely bond on shared interests. according to my poll, most of you guys are mercury-dominant. my mercury-dominant readers, find you a friend you share 3rd house synastry with!! this will make you feel more comfortable in your innate self-expression and have better quality of friendships.

彡 their planets in your 4th house 一 the my friends are my family placement. this friendship dynamic makes for someone who feels very safe with you. the bond, irrespective of what you guys do together, is built on a foundation of trust and reliability. you guys most likely are very close, maybe your families are very close or familiar with one another. you guys spend time at each other's homes hanging out a lot, maybe you have sleepovers. you are familiar with one another's cultures, maybe this is a friendship on shared backgrounds or cultures.

ex 1: lilo and stitch share 4th and 11th synastry. they care for each other like family <3

彡 their planets in your 5th house 一 girls just wanna have fun! you guys do everything together and see each other as the fun friend or the goodtime friend. this can be bad but for the most part the pros outweigh the cons. you lovee each other's company and seek each other out whenever you're about to go do something fun. this is the friendship where you share your dating life with, maybe go out to meet people with or talk about love matters with. you might have more dating options being friends with them. they can show you something you are missing when it comes to matters of casual dating and encourage you to put yourself out there more. this synastry also indicates a relationship where your kids might be very close with them as well, or view them as a prolific " cool aunty/uncle" figure.

彡 their planets in your 6th house 一 workout buddies. you guys most likely workout together, share new diet fads and weight-loss tips together and keep each other healthy. maybe one or both of you are athletic or athletes and you inspire each other to really sweat. there is a lot of wisdom to be shared here in matters of work and routine and they can illuminate something you are missing or aspire to do for your job. this friendship dynamic is centered around being of service in practical matters that will help long term. the friend who either uplevels or diminishes your lifestyle.

彡 their planets in your 7th house 一 the friend who's a significant other. since seventh house synastry in romance is considered ideal for "marriage", this is the friendship that truly fulfills your platonic love languages. when your bf or gf is being annoying, they are right there ready to love on you! just joking, but in its best, this synastry really serves as an example of how you want to be loved in a romantic partnership. this is the friend you talk about deep romantic commitments with and your ideal partner, your relationship problems, and have right by your side when taking that big step in getting married. this friendship is centered around the more serious aspects of life like marriage, if you want to start a business, long-term partnerships. the friend you might trust to do business with or manage your business. friends I've had this synastry with I go to for help with the real stuff. members of the opposite gender that I've had this synastry with I've ended up crushing on or vice versa. at its worst, this can result in a friend who openly dislikes you and may even bully you.

彡 their planets in your 8th house 一 the friend who's damn near a significant other. someone who transforms you, for good or for worse. much like 11th house, they show you how to manage your money and resources and to take pride in them. someone you can trust with heavy stuff, the person you go to when you need to cry or vent. this is the friend that will keep you in check because they really do care about you and your emotional well-being. the friend you talk about your s3x life with or lack theorof -- the friendship where nothing is weird. a negative manifestation is someone who tries to control you and your resources, is way too obsessed with you and overpowers your autonomy. can cross major boundaries without you realizing.

ex2: Blair and Serena share 4th and 8th house synastry. their intense friendship is characterized by major transformations and sharing of ahem resources (men and clothes lol)

彡 their planets in your 9th house 一 philosophical friendship. you guys come from the same religious or spiritual background, have a connection through shared belief systems, may be the friend you met in high-school or university or through some form of formal learning. the friend that traveling with can shape how you view the world or the friend that wants to travel with you. someone who expands or limits your belief system about yourself and the world. you love sharing ideas and having deep conversations with them as they are receptive to these talks.

彡 their planets in your 10th house 一 you achieve new social standings together. they might love being seen with you, love going to important places. they might expand your reputation or lead you to alignment in matters of your career and legacy. on the flipside, they can harm your public reputation. you most likely have similar ambitions and this friendship keeps one another on the straight and narrow. this is a little bit more stale, but good for ambitious individuals. you guys strategize together, plan for the future, and can even build an empire through continuously bouncing ideas off of one another. they are very supportive of your professional ambitions and want to see you accomplish your biggest goals and be there every step of the way.

彡 their planets in your 11th house 一 you achieve goals together. this is for people who value dependable, stable friendships centered around longevity and shared vision for the future. like instead of a power-couple you're a power friendship duo. someone who can help you make money, someone you love socializing specifically networking with, the friend that shows up for you time and time again. the visionary friend that supports your craziest theories and dreams. the friend you introduce to your other friend groups without fear of overlap or not fitting in.

彡 their planets in your 12th house 一 spiritual friendship. they see you for who you are, and who you might not even see yourself to be. they highlight traits that you want to embody more of, and can really almost gentle parent you in new directions. this dynamic can result in a mentor style friendship and can grow into a deep bond that transcends mundane things. I've seen this synastry in friendships where one person guides the other into a new religion or way of living life as a whole. they can heal any wounds to your subconscious mind and help you process anything that's cumbersome mentally. this can be very beautiful, and develop into an unconditional bond, where they are there for you through thick and thin. on the flip side, they can be someone who is elusive and seeks to secretly harm you under the guise of friendship.

pt 2 coming soon.

thank you for reading 💋

@astrobaeza

for more: [ paidservices ₊ masterlist ₊ tips ] // gif by @bffspo + @gossipgirlfanblog

[lizzy06]

Tamaki Amajiki x Reader Fics Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

His Sun ✨✨💖by alkhale (oneshot, fluff, humor) "I-I've always thought you're like the sun!" Your laugh hits his ears and you smile, bright and shining. "Is that supposed to be a bad pick-up line, Mr. Suneater?" [COMPLETED]

DoubtPt1 |Part 2| Part 3✨✨💖 by @onyxiana-is-obsessed (soulmate au, fluff) Everyone in the world has a soulmate and Tamaki Amajiki is no different. The thing is, he’s terrified to meet or talk to his soulmate because he’s scared they could a villain. That is… until he’s finally able to talk to you. [COMPLETED]

Roses and Butterflies ✨by @tamabbyboi (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) Soulmate au! In a world where whatever you write on your skin shows up on that of your soulmate, you and Tamaki fall in love via marker and make the perfect pair. [COMPLETED]

“if you ate pussy does th-” “y/n do no finish that sentence” ✨✨ by @bakugohoex (oneshot, fluff)in which you had been shot by a quirk that makes you say your thoughts aloud, the big three come to class 1a, you’re long time crush and friend tamaki gets made to answer questions and you stupidly raise your hand. [COMPLETED]

silent admirer | tamaki amajiki x reader ✨by madaraxwbu (fluff, angst, smut)what's tamaki to do when he realises that he's falling in love with one of the most popular girls in school? [COMPLETED]

Blissful Contact✨ by feelingthorny (fluff, eventual smut)He was often nervous, sweating, and seconds away from fleeing any conversation, but despite his trouble in social situations, Amajiki found himself pursuing you: the barista who caught his eye, whose quirk lets his body do the talking for him. [COMPLETED]

A Nudge in the Right Direction✨ by Vanya_Instance (fluff, both are shy)If UA had an award for the most nervous, awkward and self-critical student then you and Tamaki would tie for first place. [COMPLETED]

Manifesting Love✨ by Vanya_Instance (oneshot, fluff, humor) Tamaki Amajiki makes the accidental decision to book off Valentines Day. The office is gossiping, the media is in a frenzy. Who's the lucky Valentine? It's no one. Seriously. He just wanted a day off, but when the media are about to eat Pro-Hero Suneater alive, you come in to save the day. [COMPLETED]

Assistant to the Hero ✨by  @dira333 /Fogfire (fluff, humor)With three years at the agency under your belt, you’re more than ready to take on one of the bigger sidekicks of Fatgum and you know that you’re capable of assisting Suneater. All you need is a chance. And if the ongoing interviews are any indication, he hasn’t picked his new assistant yet. [COMPLETED]

The Study of Poetry✨ by EntranceToInfinity (oneshot, fluff, humor)A short, sweet story of falling in love with Tamaki- (or, in which you literally stare at him and embarrass yourself) [COMPLETED]

Amajiki/Reader: Blossoming Romance by KawaiiDeku(fluff)Amajiki has a tell when he's in love, one he has trouble hiding. [COMPLETED]

So, Fuck Marry Kill? by insanityrunsinthe_family(college au, fluff, humor, explicit words(?))You came over and sat down with her and your two mutual friends, Togata, and Amajiki, and saw that she was deep in thought. She noticed you and sat up on her knees. “Oh! Oh, (Y/N)! Fuck, Marry, Kill! Amajiki, Togata, and me.” [COMPLETED]

Bon Appétit by EntranceToInfinity(friends to lovers, fluff, humor) Everyone deserves a bit of fun in their lives. And if you get your laughs from watching a dark-haired elf boy eat, is it really so bad? [COMPLETED]

Set Us Up - Amajiki Tamaki x gn! Reader Oneshot by  milk_breadx (oneshot, fluff) Mirio and Nejire have been trying to set you and Tamaki up. [COMPLETED]

It's because you're cute by MizPotatoBiscuits (friends to lovers, fluff, smut)Being friends with Nejire got you roped into the big three, becoming friends with them and enjoying their presence. Training hard you end up at the same hero agency as Tamaki Amajiki, the cute socially anxious bean. [COMPLETED]

Dear Fellow Traveler by Katonyx(smut)Getting the Suneater to come out of his shell is definitely an undertaking in itself. But what if a certain purple haired pro hero is just waiting for you to make the first move? [COMPLETED]

butterflies in your stomach✨ by @orphic-osamu (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff, hurt/comfort) whatever scars your s/o gets appear on you as well. [COMPLETED]

a butterfly | tamaki amajiki x reader✨ by madaraxwbu(fluff, smut, angst)what's tamaki to do when he realising he's catching feelings for his hot-headed underclassman? [COMPLETED]

Honey & Chamomile by Pixelwisp(oneshot, friends to lovers, fluff, childhood friends)Tamaki Amajiki gets the soft fluffy love story he deserves. [COMPLETED]

remember me by moegan(onesot, flower shop au, flower language, fluff) Tamaki Amajiki saves a civilian. He doesn’t expect her to buy him coffee and teach him about the wiles of floral culture. [COMPLETED]

Choice Words by Amberzard(oneshot, pure fluff)Reader is a member of UA's class 1-A and is blown away by the introduction of the Big Three (and an ass whooping from Mirio--). However, reader is impressed by Tamaki in particular. After all is said and done, reader rushes to Tamaki to give him a few choice words. [COMPLETED]

Balanced by ScatteredScribbles(oneshot, fluff, humor)The two of you fall into a familiar rhythm. Your hands tangle into his hair while his settle into their usual spot at your waist. For all of your differences, there was no denying that the two of you just fit. [COMPLETED]

of sleepless minds by ActuallyNonsense (collection) a collection of amajiki tamaki x reader oneshots/drabbles ． [COMPLETED]

[our-hextech-dream]

i haven't seen anyone fully articulate what i personally felt disappointed by wrt viktor's s2 persona and ending so i guess i have to do it myself even tho i'm bad at talking!! can someone who is better at this just read my mind and say it fancier and more coherently?

agency, the loss of

i have seen people already mention the way disability came into play at the end and what a wild choice it was for jayce - born able-bodied and healthy - to be the one to tell viktor - trapped in a body that was actively killing him - that actually your disability is a part of you and made you who you are and you owe everything to it. ... huh? jayce (by which i mean the writers), do you think without his disability, viktor wouldn't have still been a genius? yes, viktor is disabled - that's not even remotely what makes him a compelling character and power player. it is his mind not his body that makes him who he is. the fact that he had to waste almost his whole life fighting against that body to achieve anything is the entire crux of his frustration - imagine what he could have dedicated his mind to if he weren't constantly struggling to find a way just to survive another year, another month, another week, one more day. have you thought about it? because he has. so yeah that whole conversation, trash. bruno mars just the way you are ass one direction that's what makes you beautiful ass argument. viktor was not going crazy over cosmetic surgery, he was trying not to die.

but it strikes me as just one more expression of an overarching theme for s2 viktor - that of the complete and total loss of his agency. (more on a meta level than in the show itself, but also in the show!) i said after act 1 that viktor had died in that explosion and jayce was going to be chasing that corpse until the end, and i was correct. viktor bounced from one mindset to another, never seeming to have any consistent ideology of his own that couldn't be changed as soon as the plot demanded it. at any given point he was just kinda... wandering around, doing some random shit with the powers that worked through him. gone was the viktor who used his own hands and mind to influence the world directly, to bend it to his will. i always always felt this and i stand by it - taking viktor's abilities as an inventor and scientist away and turning him into some arcane mage jesus figure was a mistake and a disservice to his character. arcane said no this boy wasn't smart or determined, his ability to build and invent and seek and learn don't matter and never mattered, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and as soon as the arcane got its goop on him he just became the most specialest magic pixie dream boy to ever live and his own goals, dreams, ideals, morals, talents, skills, and hard work ceased to matter in any meaningful way. he never had to work to master magic to be able to use it to further his goals, because he immediately stopped having goals.

viktor became a non-character. he became whatever ideological and technological threat level the show needed to challenge to heroes and never more. he ceased to have any control or understanding over what was happening to him, rather he just gave up and decided to use his magic indiscriminately for whoever made the most convincing argument, a choice that would have been completely antithetical to his character up to that point if he'd still been alive. 'fuck zaunites, sure i'll turn them into robots so a foreign power can use them to attack and take over piltover and zaun, who cares. it's not like these are the people i've spent 30 years of my life trying to protect and save.' <- something viktor would never ever ever have agreed to! ever! no matter what! they have played us for absolute fools.

ambiguity, the loss of

the thing i wanted the most and was expecting because of the way viktor's original lore was set up was that the series would end with viktor and jayce unreconciled and with mutually exclusive worldviews, both fully believing they were right and the other was misguided but not evil or irredeemable, setting them up for future conflict. this felt like what was being set up when arcane made it a plot point that jayce was being convinced to turn hextech into weapons while viktor started getting unethical and unhinged with the experimentation. they both had good reasons to do what they did - and i'm absolutely not going to insult jayce's intelligence by claiming he was just manipulated into it by anyone, give me a fucking break - but the point was that both of them were doing something the other thought was misguided and dangerous. and they also felt that if they could just make the other person see their completely logical and rational pov, they could fix the divide between them and make up and be best science buddies again.

but then at the end arcane completely gave up on viktor having any belief in his own ideals. it just turned into 'aw actually he was just lonely all along and none of that science stuff or difference in morals or worldviews mattered bc he's got a buddy now and he's completely unequivocally on jayce's side. :)'

it was like. insanely selfish. as in, self-centered, concerned *only* with the self. the viktor i liked, and the one i wanted to flourish and hoped arcane would canonize, was someone who was entirely dedicated to zaun, to righting the wrongs of piltover and helping the people in the way he thought best - no matter what jayce or piltover thought about it. an ambiguous villain, just like all the other really well-written ones in arcane.

accountability, the loss of

viktor killed people. not sky, who was an accident despite his fixation on her; i'm talking at least a hundred or more zaunites during his stint as the machine herald. he ripped their minds out and made them play house with him, then turned them into weapons of war for ambessa's siege, and all of those people - primarily sick, desperate zaunites - died. this was always the entire crux of the conflict between (league) viktor and jayce giopara. viktor was willing to destroy people and use their bodies for his own gain unapologetically because he thought what he was doing was a blessing and the people were better off under his control because they would never feel fear or anger again. agree, disagree, depends on your view of free will and human nature, but the fact is that everyone who came to viktor hoping for a chance to be healed so they could pursue their own dreams and lives had those dreams and lives ripped away from them and they never got justice or even a single scrap of acknowledgement from the narrative.

in arcane, the horror of viktor's actions just... fade away into the background. viktor and jayce waltz off into magicspace together, leaving viktor's dead, ruined victims for piltover and zaun to deal with. he doesn't return their minds or bodies, he doesn't even seem to remember or care about what he had just been doing to other sentient living human beings. he's not sorry, he doesn't feel regret, he got what he wanted (a friend) and fuck everybody else.

because the narrative just shrugs and handwaves and says no no forget all that it doesn't matter it was just the hexcore or whatever, viktor becomes a flat, uninteresting character. he loses the depth that villains like ambessa and silco had, villains who had their victims validated by the story, who faced challenges in their arcs specifically because of the people they had hurt despite thinking they were doing the right or noble or most important thing. and not just the villains! even the heroes had to wrestle with the people they stepped on on the way to their lofty goals. but not viktor. he just floats away scot free, completely blameless, having no affect on the world and the world having no affect on him.

on arcane's status as the new canon lore and the Implications™

reminder that arcane is somehow supposed to tie into the world of runeterra at large, but now viktor and jayce both have been seemingly entirely removed from it. if it only mattered that they knew the people we'd already seen them interact with, okay, i guess. but that isn't the case. they both have a ton of connections to other champions - from regions other than p&z even - that haven't been introduced and don't have any plausible explanation for how they could have met in the past, which means they should have been set up to meet somehow in the future. implying that jinx escaped and has gone traveling the world is the perfect way to incorporate her in-game relationships with people like lux - she could have met her while traveling! but jayce and viktor don't get that plausible continuation of their story and development of further relationships - they just disappear out of existence. (ambessa also has this problem because they killed her, but unlike jayce and viktor she does have a huge amount of unexplored backstory where she could have spoken to (for example) swain and hwei and shyvanna at some point.)

note 1 - jayce and viktor are so old that they don't have any voice lines in game when meeting other champions. but other champions who are either newer or who have had voiceover updates do talk to them, which is how (aside from the old lore) you can infer that they do have relationships with other champions including ones who weren't in arcane.

note 2 - maybe riot actually doesn't care and none of the champions are really supposed to know each other or be involved in each others' lives canonically, they just have random quippy voice lines that imply that. which would fucking suck. having the lore of the game have no impact on the game itself and vice versa would objectively suck. if the characters talk to each other on the rift and say something interesting, i want that to have meaning. i want to be able to extrapolate the state of the world and the relationships between the characters from the things they verbally say with their mouths. i'm not arguing about this. the voicelines should be seen as the most high irrefutable canon that there is for the game because it is the ONLY source of lore in the game itself.

anyways there's my bible i guess. i miss evil laser robot viktor i want him to perform unethical brain surgery on me (fixing my adhd but also turning me into his personal puppet attack dog) and then give a weapon to a child so they can kill their bullies.

[the-summ0ning]

𓉸ྀི Linger 𓉸ྀི PART ONE

Roomie!Nick Folio x Fem!introvert!Bookworm!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Awkwardly avoiding your hot roommate after him walking in on you listening to your guilty pleasure was easy enough, you thought, until it wasn't. Not when you had all the same friends, and you were all in a cabin in the woods for Noah's birthday, and Nick shows up looking like said guilty pleasure.

!!!THIS PIECE IS PURE FICTION ABOUT REAL PEOPLE, NOT YOUR THING TURN AWAY. BUT AGAIN IT'S JUST FICTION AND NOT HOW THESE PPL ARE IRL!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS: swearing, recreational drug and alcohol use, awkward romcom moments, fluff, yearning.

A/n: hahah spooky season is upon us and I wrote this after I had insomnia for over 24 hours after the wildest week of having the flu a few weeks ago, and have been sitting on it debating if I wanted to post this. This could be a totally considered self-indulgent, maybe cringe, but oh well it's my digital footprint & I have to live with. But welcome to my first fic on this blog, and my first piece posted at least for the BO guys in general, had to show the cinnamon roll Folio love first. thank yewwww and enjoy

⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。°⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。

The universe had a painfully ironic sense of humor. Noah Sebastian and his friends, with their twisted embrace of clichés, unknowingly played right into its hands.

After years of running in the same circles, Noah had grown to resent sharing his birthday with Halloween—except for the rare occasions when he leaned into the theme completely. This year was one of those times. A slasher-themed party in a huge cabin in the woods for the weekend. Cute. Real fuckin’ cute.

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d promised months ago to make all the baked goods—long before you knew the party theme—and that his closest friend and bandmate happened to be your roommate, you would’ve bailed. But you were a good friend, one who loved your friends and kept your word. Even if it meant enduring the mortification of being around Folio, said roommate, fighting the urge to disappear into the woods every time he glanced or came in your direction.

Because Folio knew your dirty little secret.

One you hadn’t even shared with your closest girlfriends. A secret you’d intended to bury in the deepest corners of your feral little brain—until Folio, of all people, unearthed it. He’d come home early from a fishing trip because of a storm and found you in your natural state of debauchery: high, sprawled on the couch, blasting a dark romance smut audiobook through the living room’s soundbar to a concerning decibel. To make matters worse, it was during the most graphic part, and not just any audiobook—this one had sound effects. And masks. And filthy, filthy things.

You’d nearly combusted when you saw him standing in the doorway for who knows how long, looking bemused, at you giggling and quietly squealling into a throw pillow. You scrambled to pause the audio, but of course, the universe wasn’t on your side, and your phone took its sweet time. Long enough for him to hear everything. 

It’s not like you were about to do anything. You weren’t physically aroused, just mortified that he now knew what you listened to when he wasn’t around. Mortified as if his living room had been christened by your smut. Mortified he probably assumed you touched yourself to it when he wasn’t there—or worse, that it was some deep, dark fantasy of yours. No that totally wasn’t your guilty conscience projecting or anything.

You’d only lived with Nick for four months. Four months of being around him more than you ever had since meeting him through mutual friends years ago. Before this, you could count on both hands the number of times you’d been alone together. Not that there wasn’t any issues with him, you just considered the two of you as polar opposites to think he’d actually want to be around you or you’d have enough in common to pass the basis of ‘acquaintance’ or ‘mutual friend’.

He was funny, the kind of guy who made your cheeks hurt from laughing at his corny jokes. He was charming, with that Southern hospitality that always seemed to melt your insides, and his country twang made you melt just that much more. You hated how easily he could make your social anxiety melt away at parties, offering you a hit of his joint or a cigarette and small conversation when he noticed you hadn’t your usual friends you clung to. Confident, magnetic, always ready to be rowdy, a through and through extrovert, everything you were not.

You were an extroverted introvert–at best. A pessimistic optimist. An awkward rain shower on a sunny day. The house cat who only craved attention when it suited you, having zoomies when no one was watching.

That’s exactly what the embarrassing night felt like—your version of a cat caught in a burst of energy when it thought no one was looking. Except Folio was looking. And all he did was give you that dopey smile, the one with the gleam in his dark chocolate eyes, and made some smart-ass remark before disappearing into his room.

“So, this is what you do when I’m not around. Cute.”

As if he were the amused owner, catching his pet in the act.

He never brought it up again, but you both knew. And it gnawed at you. Maybe you were again projecting and he hadn’t thought much of it, but still!

And now, of all the costumes in the world, famous slashers, any other character from a horror movie, or crashed out and went with a basic t-shirt in the same vein of the theme of the party. No. He had chosen to wear a Ghostface mask. You, meanwhile, were dressed as a cheesy, slutty Casey Becker from Scream. It wasn’t planned. You’d done your best to avoid him the last two weeks, conveniently ever since the theme had been known to you. Quick hellos and goodbyes, or hasty exchanges with those days.

But tonight, at the party, there was no escaping him. Between leaving early before he even woke, helping with decorations, and playing the mom friend throughout the night for your own friends, you made yourself scarce. Dodging him became an art form. Until, of course, he cornered you.

You were about to refill Matt’s drink when Nick approached, his Ghostface mask pulled up. He tossed Matt’s empty cup, and handed you a cup of red jungle juice (with gummies shaped like body parts floating the mix of fruit of course), his hand casually settling on the small of your back, guiding you wordlessly toward the quieter part of the yard by the small shed by the brush of woods. The touch sent an unexpected chill through you, even though you tried to ignore it. You turned to protest, but he tapped his ear, signaling the blunt tucked behind it.

You rolled your eyes, laughing under your breath, and let him lead you to the shed. As much as you weren’t ready to talk to him, you hadn’t taken a break all night, and the excuse to get away from the crowd and babysit your friends was tempting. Your social battery ticking away faster than anticipated.

“Didn’t realize you were such a great party planner,” he said, leaning against the shed as he lit the blunt, his eyes catching under the faint glow of the solar lights.

You shrugged, struggling to keep your voice casual as your heart raced and cheeks warmed. His presence was overwhelming, making you hyper-aware of everything—the slight brush of his fingers when he passed you the blunt, the way his lips curled when he smiled. Even the music felt like it was conspiring against you, with Deftones' haunting melodies filling the background, stirring things inside you that you wished would stay buried.

“It was a group effort,” you mumbled, staring at your shoes to avoid his gaze. The warmth of his hand on your back lingered, leaving you unsettled in ways you weren’t prepared for. But when you glanced at him, his eyes were fixed on you, his brow furrowed like he was trying to figure something out.

“Nah, I didn’t do anything. I’m just here to boost morale and be the life of the party,” he chuckled, though the sound felt a little forced. As if he was trying just as hard as you to keep things light, keep things normal. 

He passed the blunt back, and you took a hit, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about that night too. It had been weeks, but it still felt raw in the fiber of your being, especially now with the tension hanging between you.

“And I know half of these ideas were your asshole suggestions, after searching kid halloween party on Pinterest.” He added, smirking. “But they love it. Noah loves it.”

You smiled despite yourself, taking another hit quickly to hide it, the warmth of his compliment stirring something soft in your chest. “Glad to hear it. Sometimes I worry my trolling gets taken a little too seriously.”

“They thrive off it,” he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. He gestured for you to keep the blunt, taking a swig of his drink instead. “All for you, bub. Roomie blunt.”

The nickname hit you harder than you wanted to admit, a surge of affection mixing with the ever-present tension. His voice, low and soft, carried a weight that made it feel more intimate than it should have. You swallowed, trying to push the feeling down. Deflect, deflect, deflect.

“Matching costumes and now roomie blunts?” You teased, though your voice sounded breathier than you intended. “Are we hitting new roommate milestones?”

He laughed, but it was quieter this time, almost shy. “Didn’t mean to steal your thunder.” He said almost apologetically, there was still an edge of smugness maybe arrogance. “I tried to wear a t-shirt with just Michael and Freddy on it, but Jolly told me to ‘piss off and I wasn’t wearing that to our best friend’s birthday party.’ Drove me to a Spirit before we picked Noah up, it was like the only thing left close to the theme.” He explained. “I didn’t even have a plain black shirt. Had to flip this inside out.”

“Oh Jolly said ‘fuck you thought’ for real.” You giggled, the effect of the cannabis hitting you as you rubbed the rough inseam on his shoulder that you failed to notice when he walked in tonight. It was comical and relieving to know this wasn't a jab at you now, and just a half-ass last minute idea--typical Folio fashion.

“Wait for it, wait for it,” he pointed a finger up. Balancing the cup rim between his teeth, his drink splashing on himself as he pulled his t-shirt up exposing his torso as he clumsily tugged his shirt toward you to see a print of Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger holding hands in a meadow.

Through puffs of smoke, you full out cackled, now holding his shoulder for support. “What? Did you think you were too tough to dress up for Nowah’s birthday party?” Mustering your best baby voice in between your wheezing, the tension breaking for a moment. But even as you laughed, your eyes lingered on him a second too long. On the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, the way his dark ochre eyes seemed to trace your every movement, as if he were studying you, waiting for something. But then he pulled the mask down, breaking the easiness of the moment.

He smoothed his shirt down, mocking your laugh. “The fuck am I gonna do with this after?” 

Well…

Even with his shirt inside out, with alcohol spills staining it, and ash from your blunt speckling his clothes, the look did things to you--he looked good. The mask, the way he carried himself, all of it stirred something deeper. Your mind flashed back to that audiobook, to the night he caught you—and suddenly, the faceless man from the story wasn’t faceless anymore. It was Nick. It had always been Nick, lurking in the corners of your thoughts, even when you tried to deny it for several months before. You had buried the attraction you felt towards him well enough, denying that maybe your harmless crush was something more. Letting the term roommates be your boundary for him, not wanting to make an arrangement of living with an attractive acquaintance that you had festering feelings for even more awkward.

Despite your best efforts, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. And even though your mind screamed at you to say something, to make a joke, you were too caught up in the moment—the way his presence pressed into yours, the unspoken tension crackling between you like static.

You handed the blunt back, your fingers brushing a second too long with his, the touch jolting something within you. “I’m sure you can find other uses for it, Bub,” you said, but the words came out softer than you intended, almost like a promise.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His hand lingered near yours, his dark eyes searching your face, as if he was waiting for something—waiting for you to break the silence. The air between you felt heavy, charged, like the moment could tip in any direction. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breath coming a little too fast. You were standing so close now, the night’s sounds fading into the background. 

Your lips parted, wanting to say something, anything—but the words caught in your throat. Maybe this was your chance. Maybe you could make sure things weren’t as weird as you imagined it to be. Or maybe you could take that small step forward, close the gap between you, and see where it led.

But instead, you took a step back. 

“Thanks for the morale boost! Gonna go beg Ruffilo to play something less whiny and horny now!”

The moment stretched, taut and unspoken, as you turned away, nerves rattling inside you. You felt him watching you as you sauntered off, the weight of his gaze burning into your back, the unspoken tension still thick in the air.

Deflect! Deflect! Deflect!

But as you walked away, your heart still pounding, you knew the moment between you wasn’t over. Not really. It lingered, hanging in the air like a storm cloud waiting to break. And you couldn’t help but wonder if next time, you’d have the courage to step into it.

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

Nick let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he watched your denim skirt ride up slightly with each step you took away. He swallowed hard, the familiar pang of frustration settling in his chest. Admiring you from afar had become second nature to him, an unspoken routine he’d never quite managed to shake.

You perplexed him, right down to his core.

Every time he felt he was getting closer to understanding you, to unraveling the mystery of what made you so magnetic—you were gone. Slipping through his fingers just as quickly as you’d come into focus.

It had been that way since Matt and your friend first introduced you all those years ago. At first, he found your quietness cute—a stark contrast to the loud energy of your other friends. But as you started coming around more, he saw there was so much more beneath the surface. The dry wit, the easy charm you showed only to those closest to you, the way you seemed to light up in the right company. And then there was the obvious—he had been attracted to you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

But the more you intrigued him, the further away you seemed to drift, casting him aside without even realizing it. It gnawed at him, deeper than he liked to admit. Nick Folio wasn’t used to this—he could get anyone to open up, to be themselves around him with little effort. But you? You were a challenge he couldn’t crack, and it was driving him crazy.

It baffled him how Matt had convinced you to be roommates in the first place. Living together hadn’t helped his case at all���if anything, it made things worse. Since the moment he’d walked in on you listening to your smut audiobook, he could feel the shift, how you’d started shutting him out. He wasn’t oblivious to the way you avoided him now, keeping your distance, as though that moment had broken some invisible line between you.

But it hadn’t, not for him. If anything, he loved that glimpse of who you were outside the parties and hangouts. Seeing you comfortable, in your own space, high out of your mind, letting your guard down enough to geek out over something you clearly enjoyed.

Did you think it made him see you differently? Did you think that knowing your private little quirks would change how he felt?

If anything, it made perfect sense. A girl like you, attractive, smart, with a mind that clearly wandered far beyond the surface—you were bound to have something like that. Hell, now he understood why your nose was always buried in your Kindle. He’d probably be the same way if he had something that compelling.

He had hoped the blunt he’d offered earlier would serve as an olive branch, something to ease the tension between you. But now, watching you skitter away, retreating from him again, he wasn’t so sure.

“There’s the kingpin,” Noah grinned lazily, coming up beside him clapping him on the shoulder as Matt trailed behind.

Nick tried to muster a smile, but it was clear something was weighing on him, his usual carefree demeanor dulled by the conflict that tugged at him deep inside.

“What’s wrong Folio?” Matt was the first to ask.

“Nothing, just clearing my mind a bit.” He lied.

“Yeah, okay.” Noah snorted, trying to tug the mask on top of his head down. He was clearly tipsy, enjoying himself. “If you don’t want to talk about it, whatever—but I know what will really help clear your mind.” The lazy grin turned sinister.

The drummer merely raised his eyebrow waiting for an answer.

“Manhunt—slasher style.”

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

Would it really be a slasher-themed birthday party if Noah hadn’t forced the remaining guests into a game of manhunt, despite how dark it was and how most people were borderline drunk? No, only Noah would think this was still a good idea. You didn’t mind, though. It distracted you from your exchange with Nick—finding hiding spots, giggling quietly, getting chased, and chasing your friends around. It felt cathartic, especially in your tipsy, cross-faded state.

Noah was too far gone to establish real ground rules anyway. The only rule was that nobody hid past the brush of the woods, and he was always the seeker. Brush, cabin, shed, backyard—fair game for your large group of friends. It was the third and final round now, and most of you were out of breath, legs aching, too close to rolling an ankle in the dark. The adrenaline was wearing thin, and the nostalgia for childhood games had run its course. You were all gonna feel the aftermath of this in the morning.

“Once you're found, head to the fire pit, pop a squat, and call it quits for the LOVE of god,” Matt groaned, hands on his hips, out of breath.

With all the cabin’s lights off, the vast space was hard to navigate. Maybe calling it a cabin was underselling it. This was a huge luxury lodge, a weekend splurge to comfortably fit the group with several bedrooms and rooms to hide in. You’d found a bedroom on the second floor at the end of the hall, away from everyone else, deciding to hide alone instead of pairing up like some of the others. You didn’t want to change your spot like you had the other two rounds you played outside. This was it, and you’d let whoever come to you to find you.

You weren’t sure who’d claimed the room earlier in the night when everyone arrived, but it didn’t matter now. The large bed in the center had ample space underneath for you to squeeze under. The bed skirt fell perfectly, hiding you completely as you curled up, knees pressed against your chest, mouth against the sleeve of your knitted sweater to stifle any sound.

Your heart pounded as you heard the seekers stomping clumsily through the halls, doors creaking open, followed by screeches of defeat from your friends as they were found. Finally, Noah and Davis's triumphant laughter echoed through the house, growing distant as they led the captured outside.

For a moment, you thought you were safe. You let out the breath you'd been holding, relaxing slightly. The steady thrum of your heartbeat began to slow, and you debated slipping out the back door to claim victory, imagining the disappointed faces of Noah, Davis, and the rest when you emerged triumphant telling them to suck it.

But then you heard it—a single set of footsteps at the end of the hall. You froze. Your pulse roared in your ears as a familiar laugh echoed down the corridor.

“You guys suck at this game!” Nick’s voice rang out, smug and teasing. Faint bickering followed from outside, Noah and Davis shouting back that they were done, ready to drink by the fire.

Nick scoffed. “Fuckin’ amateurs didn’t even check my room. There’s still people hiding!”

You tensed, silently praying, Please, don’t be in his room. Please, don’t let this be his room.

But your luck had run out. You heard the door handle turn with an agonizing slowness, the door creaking open.

“Bryan, I swear, if you’re making out with your girlfriend in my room instead of hiding—” Nick’s voice trailed off as he stepped inside. You could hear his confusion as he scanned the seemingly empty room. It was his room, of course. The one place you’d somehow ended up hiding.

You bit your lip, heart pounding in your chest as he walked around. His footsteps were soft, deliberate. The room was dark, but you could see the faint glow of his phone’s flashlight as he swept it around, peeking under the desk, inside drawers—absurd places no one could possibly fit.

You started to hope he might give up. His footsteps retreated toward the door, and you exhaled softly, relaxing ever so slightly, your body tense from being curled up so tightly.

But then you heard the closet door swing open with a creak. “Got you!” he shouted abruptly, his voice playful. You jumped, your head hitting the wall behind you with a soft thud. You bit down harder on your sleeve to stifle any sound, praying he hadn’t noticed.

The door closed again, and there was a long silence. Then his voice dropped lower, a teasing edge creeping into it.

“I knew there was a little mouse in here.”

Your eyes flew open in shock, blood rushing to your face. No way. Was it just coincidence? Or had he somehow found out—about the pet names in your books, about your... tastes? Did he find your Goodreads somehow?! You screwed your eyes shut tighter, wishing you could disappear.

Suddenly, a warm hand grabbed your ankle and yanked you out from under the bed. You shrieked as you tumbled out, blinking into the blinding light of Nick’s phone. He was doubled over, laughing, thankfully with no Ghostface mask on.

“Where the hell did you get that from?!” you demanded, fed up, voice hushed but furious.

He was still chuckling, genuinely confused. “Get what from?”

“‘Little mouse?’” you hissed, jabbing a finger into his bare chest since he discarded his shirt after the first round. “What the hell is that?”

He raised his hands in surrender, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I don’t know! It just seemed fitting.”

“You didn’t snoop through my bookshelf?” you accused, heart racing for entirely different reasons now.

His brow furrowed. “Why would I go through your bookshelf? Where’s this coming from?”

“You know where!”

“I don’t, though!” His voice softened, growing more serious. “You really think I would go through your stuff?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “I don’t know... you caught me listening to my smut—”

Nick had the audacity to huff a laugh, and it sent your blood boiling all over again.

“It’s not funny, Nick!” You glared at him, horrified by how quickly this night was spiraling out of control. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go tonight.

“It’s not,” he agreed, but his grin remained. “But it kind of is. Because that just confirmed everything I thought.”

You crossed your arms, defensive. “What did you think?”

“That you got weird about me seeing you... be yourself.”

You scoffed. “I did not.” You did.

He said your name quietly, and it made you look at him, caught by the softness in his voice. “I don’t care that you were geeking out over some dirty audiobook. I thought it was cute.”

“I was not.” Your face burned. “And it’s not cute.”

“What would you call it then? Fangirling?”

You grimaced, crossing your arms tighter. “No.”

Nick exhaled, leaning against the desk. “Look, I’m not trying to make this a thing. Relax, okay?”

But relaxing was impossible with him standing there, shirtless, casual like he hadn’t just crawled into your head. He was so nonchalant, while you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something far more dangerous.

Finally, he turned on the lamp in the corner, casting a warm glow over the room. His eyes softened as they met yours, and he gestured to the bed. “Can we sit? I’m not trying to argue, and my legs are tired.”

You stared at him, defiant for a moment longer, before finally sitting on the edge of the bed. He rolled the desk chair up to you, knees nearly brushing, close enough that the warmth of his skin made the air between you thrum.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” he teased, his voice low.

“I’m not a brat,” you muttered, looking down at your lap, “I’m just... embarrassed.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy, until Nick broke it with a sigh. “I said the wrong thing. But I called it cute because... let’s face it, I know you, but I don’t *know* you.”

You glanced up at him through your lashes, his face softer now. The tension in his shoulders had eased, and his eyes held something you couldn’t quite name.

“I could say the same,” you admitted quietly.

“Yeah, but I’m a simple guy.” Chortling to himself. “Half my body shows almost all my special interests.” He gestured to his tattoos, the ones you’d seen countless times but never really looked at until now, trying to avoid finding yet another reason to be drawn to him. “You? You’re a mystery to me. I’ve known you for years, and lived with you for months, but I’ve never seen you just... let your guard down. Sure, in rare passing moments that I wished I could see more of, because I love seeing you light up when you talk.”

Your heart twisted at his words, warmth creeping up your chest, but before you could respond, he added, teasing, “Now I know you’re the quiet girl who secretly geeks out over porn—”

“Nick!” You groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands, the heat on your cheeks unbearable.

Nick laughed softly, tugging your hands away from your face, his grip warm and grounding as his thumbs traced gentle patterns over your knuckles. "Relax, relax, it's our secret," he murmured, his voice softening into something almost tender.

Your heart raced, pulse quickening as the air between you thickened with unspoken tension. His laughter faded into a quiet intensity, and for a moment, the space between you felt charged, like you were both standing at the edge of something neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.

"I like it... that we have a secret just between us," he confessed, his voice quiet and uncertain, as if he wasn't sure how you'd react.

His words hung in the air, and you froze for a beat, the weight of them sinking in and nearly taking your breath away. When you looked up at him, his brown eyes-usually playful-were filled with something deeper.

There was a warmth there, an affection that made your stomach flip as you watched him nervously lick his lips.

Your face felt hot, and you weren't used to being in such an intimate moment with him, your hands still held in his. But despite the closeness, you weren't uncomfortable. If anything, you realized how close the two of you actually were when his eyes dropped to your lips, and your pulse fluttered even faster.

When he started to lean in, your body moved instinctively, meeting him halfway. His lips brushed against yours-soft, tentative, and a little chapped from the night's activities, but sweeter than you could have imagined. The faint taste of jungle juice lingered on both your mouths, and his hands stayed gently on yours, as if he was afraid to push further.

Hesitant, like he thought you'd pull away any second.

But you didn't want to run this time.

The kiss, as surprising as it was, had a way of grounding you-settling the storm of thoughts and emotions swirling in your mind.

You found yourself pulling your hands free from his and sliding one up to the nape of his neck, your fingers grazing the buzzed part of his hair, while the other rested on his shoulder, gently tugging him closer. Your touch seemed to ease his hesitation, and he responded with a firmer grip on your waist, his hands warm against your skin as he deepened the kiss.

The tension of the past weeks, all the uncertainty and confusion, melted away in his touch. His lips fit perfectly against yours, and as he grew more confident, the kiss became less restrained, his hand gripping your waist tighter as he gently guided you back onto the mattress. You both smiled into the kiss, the weight of his body pressing down on you, though he propped an arm by your head to keep from crushing you entirely.

In that moment, with the world outside fading away, you were in a kind of bliss you hadn't felt in so long. The feel of his lips, his warmth, the way his tongue softly brushed against yours-it was all-consuming, and you could have stayed there all night, wrapped up in him.

"Did Y/N kill you, Nick?!" Noah's drunken laughter rang through the wooden door, followed by the sound of Davis and one of your friends giggling along with him. The sudden intrusion startled you both, and you froze, your breath catching as the door handle rattled.

Nick groaned quietly, reluctantly pulling away from you, the absence of his touch making you ache in a way you hadn't expected. You quickly sat up, trying to smooth your hair and fix your sweater, your cheeks still flushed as you glanced over at him. He, on the other hand, seemed unbothered, walking casually to the desk to grab the half-smoked blunt from earlier before making his way to the door.

"We were just deciding if we wanted to finish this," Nick said coolly, holding up the blunt as he opened the door, playing it off like the two of you hadn't been making out just moments ago. His calm demeanor caught you off guard, while you were sure guilt was written all over your face-your hair messy, your cheeks still warm, and your sweater slightly askew as much as you made yourself presentable.

Your friend peered over Nick's shoulder with a playful smirk, narrowing her eyes at you.

"Without us? How rude. You're now officially obligated to share-let's go."

Nick shot you a sheepish smile before offering his hand, extending it toward you as the others started to head back down the hall, unaware of what had just transpired between the two of you.

You hesitated for a second, your heart still racing, before taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. The moment might have been interrupted, but the charged energy between you was far from gone.

The universe did have a painfully sick sense of humor after all.

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

A/n: pls lmk your thoughts as writing this I had so many ideas of how I wanted this to go, and the ending was weaker than intended but this is what I got after being up for over 24 hours 🤷🏼‍♀️ but I will be writing a part two 👹

[cryptictongues]

The Sun Lives in His Eyes

pairing: Vincent Valentine x Fem!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 6.9k summary: You try on swimsuits for Vincent, and he doesn't know how to handle it.

warnings: porn with feelings, angst, teasing, lots of dry humping and making out, come tasting, sexual tension

Spoilerwise, I made it so the emotions after the second visit to the Golden Saucer were present but didn't get very specific as to why aside from the keystone and what the stone is needed for (which is in the OG game too). Other than that, this is pretty spoiler free!

Also, just to add, when trying on bathing suits, please for the love of GOD keep your underwear on. Don't let your bare cooch touch it.

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It was midday in Costa Del Sol and it was alive as usual. The beach goers were all in their swimsuits, with their beautiful lays and their skin that had been kissed by the sun. The sky was as blue as can be with a slight overcast of clouds. Booths of a multitude of items for sale and fun games that make the atmosphere of the area feel like one big fair. It was a refreshing change of scenery, especially after the last 24 hours.

Traveling back to Costa Del Sol was no easy task, especially when exhaustion, anger, and disappointment have infiltrated the air. With the failure to retrieve the keystone, the direction of the group had faltered. No one had a clue where the Temple of the Ancients was located, and the future seemed bleak. That was until the mysterious man, the one you have grown very attached to, had suggested using the Tiny Bronco’s radio to try and intercept the signal from the Turks to retrieve the coordinates.

Vincent Valentine: the epitome of peculiar. A man, a beast, a creature of mystery. You and everyone else’s first interaction with him being an almost fatal one, for the bestial side of him was quite destructive. He was fairly fast for a creature of his size, strong reflexes, and phenomenal perception. He wasn’t a normal beast, but of course he wasn’t: he was still a human underneath it all. Which is why once he had transformed back into his original form, the brokenness and anguish that appeared on his face was apparent. You remember vividly how he had looked directly at you, stunning you in your place as you wondered what you had done to receive such a stare. 

You never thought you’d make contact with those eyes again with his lack of interest in coming along. So, it was a surprise to see him hop on the Tiny Bronco, explaining the sins he must atone for. It made sense, but a weird part of you sensed that it wasn’t the full truth, especially when he kept looking your way during his tiny monologue. It stirred something within you, having never felt an intensity such as his before. All in all, however, he was a quiet one, kept to himself, and very much an observer. 

A very, very good observer. 

Something that drew you to each other was neither of you were talkers. You’ve always been the reserved one of the group, not minding wandering around on your own while the others stayed together. The introvert in you enjoys the peace and quiet when able to have it, even though you love your found family. You assumed Vincent relates in some way because after the arrival to Costa Del Sol the first time, he has lingered by your side ever since. You didn’t mind the company, especially when there was a silent mutual understanding between you two.

What you did mind, however, was how utterly insane he’d make you feel. You don’t know if it’s all in your head, but day by day you swear he is advancing his way into your heart and loins. It started with simple glances that led to subtle grazes of his covered fingers on your exposed ones. The intimate moments have gradually increased, which have haunted your dreams in the most intimate of ways.

Back at the Golden Saucer, you and Vincent had been off on your own together. You both had stayed in the Queen’s Blood gaming area for a while, playing stacked games since you both were considered pros amongst most people. It was the last round, and you had a slight lead. You were waiting for him to take his turn, watching him contemplate his hand. You were hoping, praying even, that he didn’t see how you had set yourself up to win. 

But of course, he had seen right through it. Once he plucked the card he wanted to use from his deck, you already knew it’s game over. You had let out a groan before he could put it down and the look in his eyes shifted as quickly as they had shifted back in amusement.

“You don’t even know what I am playing.”

“I can take a wild guess.”

“Hmm, is that so?” He had hummed, leaning in as close as he could without his body messing up the board. He had held his card between two of his left fingers, dangling the damn thing in front of you. “If you guess the specific card I’m about to play correctly, you win.”

You were in shock as he was one to never willingly gamble his wins. In your dysfunctional brain, you had thought about all of the cards he had in his possession. Vincent’s biggest asset as a player was knowing how to use his cards, often using ones that didn’t seem to do much on the surface. You had thought long and hard, debating between which cards he could have considered, before deciding there was only one that made the most sense.

“Grandhorn.”

Vincent chuckled, putting his card down, and low and behold the Grandhorn appeared. It boosted his score a point above yours, but it hadn’t mattered. You had won.

“So, I guess I won since I guessed correctly?”

“I suppose so, but I expected nothing less.” He had leaned in once more, a glimmer in his eyes as he looked you dead on. “Smart girl.”

The way he had said it had made your insides curl with delight. Having someone like him be so teasing and flirty in his own way with you had you flushed, and you knew he noticed. Before he had said anything to send you into another flushing fit, you had quickly gotten up and told him exactly what you wanted to do next.

You had dragged him over to the G-Bike game, insisting to play as you’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle, even if it’s just in simulation form. However, within 30 minutes, you were flinging yourself left to right with frustration with the lack of ability to get at least a one-star rating. It wasn’t until you had felt a weight behind you, recognizable leather clad arms wrapping over yours, did you realize how fucked you really were. His body was pressed right against you with every limb touching your own. His fingers had curled over yours and his breath was brushing against the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“ Give me the glasses ,” he murmured.

“Let me take you for a ride.”

Needless to say, you had to excuse yourself. You had felt a tinge of embarrassment at how you reacted, but it was quickly stomped out by how much you needed to relieve yourself. You had felt bad leaving Vincent alone to wander a place that was outside of what he was acclimated to, but the hormonal teen in your brain was screaming at you to do something. 

You had been thankful that everyone was out doing their thing because the minute the hotel door was shut, you were on your bed with your hand down your pants. All you could think about was how good he felt against you. He was warm and you could feel everything; from the buckles, to the leather creases, to the outline of his long cock you felt pressed against your backside. With every twist and turn, your bodies would shift, and it created a friction so teasing that you couldn’t have helped but whimpered.

You had thought about his groans when you would accidentally push back on him. The sound had vibrated on your skin, proving how close his mouth was to your neck. You remembered how his cock twitched against you. Those thoughts had only made you rub your weeping cunt more, leading to more devious ones. You wondered what would’ve happened if you had just kept grinding on him. Would he have lost control? Would he have been as flushed as you had been 30 minutes prior? Picturing images of him flushed below you as you worked each other up had sent you spiraling into release, biting your arm so as to not cause any alarm. 

You had a hard time looking at him the next day without your mind wandering to something sinful. Things have toned down since due to the interruption of plans, but his gazes have stayed firm. You could always feel the stare of his eyes burning into you, and it never failed to make you squirm and plunder. 

Presently, all of you were on the dock, discussing the coordinates Vincent had found over the radio. A game plan was being formed, an agreement that the rest of the day should be one of rest and preparation before the journey tomorrow. The party started to disperse, some with tasks like gathering supplies and booking rooms for the night. You were left to your own devices, debating on what you wanted to do to pass the time. You look out onto the water, and you don’t know if it is the heat or the exhaustion in your muscles, but going for a swim sounded absolutely divine. 

You heard the metal clanking of Vincent’s shoes behind you, making you turn around to greet him. The thoughts back at the saucer were begging to be reminded but you pushed them back, not sure if you would survive those them with him in front of you. He greets you with a hum, hovering very close to you to the point you have to look up at him. Damn, he is so tall!

Clearing your throat, you greet him back with your thumbs twiddling with each other nervously. “So, is there anything you want to do today?”

“That is entirely up to you. Wherever you’d like to go, I’ll follow.” 

Your breath starts to shutter, but you cough to cover it up. You didn’t want to make it obvious how much he is affecting you right now, even though you are sure it didn’t matter what you did. He always knew. 

“Well, this may sound crazy, but I kind of want to go swimming.”

“Oh?” His head tilts, eyes amused.

“Y-yeah, but I know you cannot be comfortable in this heat. I wouldn’t want to keep you in it.” 

“I can manage.”

You laugh because of course he can. “If you say so, but I will need to get a swimsuit. You don’t mind coming with me to buy one, do you?”

He shakes his head, moving to your side to allow you to lead the way. You both start walking towards the bathing suit booth up ahead and as usual Vincent’s fingers linger by yours. There is no touching, but you can feel them right by you, causing your fingers to twitch. It’s driving you mad, and you are tired of him teasing you to the point of insanity. So out on a whim, confidence boosting, you let your hand grab his metal one. You feel his walk stutter, but he quickly recovers to let the gold claws wrap around your own. 

You lead him to the booth right past the dock and start to look around. There are so many options, and you can feel yourself become a little overwhelmed at your choices. 

“Is everything okay?” Vincent was behind you. You guess he can see the tension in your shoulders as you peruse the different styles.

“I guess I just don’t know what would be best to wear.” You admit. 

The young woman running the booth must have been waiting for an opportunity to sell because the next thing you know she is right in front of you. “Good evening! Would you like some help?”

“Oh, uh…” Before you can utter anymore words, she continues her pitch.

“It is no trouble! I can curate some of our different pieces so you can decide which ones you like best!”

Before you can decline again, she is already ushering you to the changing booth, basically shoving you in. “I’ll be right back with some swimwear!”

You peek out and you can see Vincent about to walk over to the seller, irritation clear on his face. Shit.

“Vincent, come here!”

He turns to you before walking up. As he stops in front of you, you see how much his eyes are flared, burning more red than usual. You aren’t sure how to calm him down, not seeing him like this since the incident at Shinra Manor. You reach out, letting your palm rest against his cheek, hoping that will somehow ease his mind. 

“She shouldn’t have put her hands on you. She is lucky to still be standing on her two feet.”

The protective nature he was exuding was endearing, but also very sexy. You put those thoughts on the backburner, bringing your hand to his neck to stroke the irritation there. 

“I appreciate you looking out for me, but I promise it’s okay. I’m okay.” You reassure, squeezing his skin right above his collarbone. “Let me try on what she offers and then we can get out of here.”

“Alright, here are a few pieces I think would go perfectly with your style!” She hands you the pieces, and turns to Vincent, clueless to the absolute annoyance he wanted to convey in that moment. “I apologize, sir, but let’s give your lady friend some privacy.”

You see his eyes flare again, and you quickly shoot your other hand out from behind the curtain to keep him facing you. “It’s okay! He can stay!”

“Well, if you insist! Just no funny business you two!” She winks at you both and walks back to her station. You gulp out of a nervous habit, even though there is no spit to swallow. Is it that obvious that you two have some unspoken thing for one another?

“Okay, um, let me try these on.” You squeeze his arm in reassurance before going back into the changing booth. You close the curtain and lay out the pieces you were working with. You inspected each one, and you came to a horrifying conclusion: these were very revealing swimsuits.

There was nothing wrong with revealing swimwear, in fact you actually quite liked the ones the lady picked for you. However, Vincent was right outside and would see you in one of these. Would it be too much for him to see you so bare? You are very covered up in your usual attire, so this is a complete 180 and leaves little for the imagination.

You decide to try one on anyway, picking the one-piece swimsuit that is all black and has a long v-line cut. You strip away your clothes, and slip the suit on, adjusting it so everything is even. You go to tie the string in the back, but you can already tell it will be a challenge. You try to tie the knot, but you could feel yourself getting frustrated, grunting in aggravation as the tie keeps going undone. 

“Are you okay?” Vincent called from outside, obviously hearing you struggle.

You sigh in defeat, ready for some assistance. “Um, I think I need help tying the string in the back. Can you give me a hand if I come out?” 

You hear him hum in agreement, and you open the curtain and quickly turn your back. “Just the one string please.”

He hums again and gets to work, grabbing the two ends and crisscrossing them before pulling tightly. You hear him shuffle closer to you, and once again his breath is on your ear. “Is that tight enough for you?”

You freeze. He said it so quietly that you wonder if you are hallucinating but you know what you heard. He is teasing you again. He is trying to rile you up like he did at the Golden Saucer. Well, two can play at that game.

“Yes, that is good. Please tie it.” You feel him take a step back, and he ties the strings to ensure they stay together. 

Once you feel his hands pull away, you turn to him to show off your swimsuit. It hugs you in all the right places, quite comfortably, and it covers you aside from the middle of your body. The v-line shows off your chest, covering your breasts and getting narrower until the point stops down at your belly button. You feel sexy and seeing Vincent’s reaction was the cherry on top.

You watch as his eyes take in your form. You see them wander from your chest to your sternum and it is crazy how much the red of his eyes get smaller as his pupils blow wide. His fingers tremble against his side with slight movement in his arms like he wants to reach out for you, but they stay in place. His control is absolutely astonishing. 

“Vincent? Do I look okay?” 

His eyes snap away, coughing in the process like he didn’t just eye fuck you. He rubbed his neck, forcing himself to look anywhere but towards you. “Yes, it looks fine.” 

You release a smirk, feeling almost powerful seeing this man react the way he had. “Okay, well I am going to try the other ones on.”

You go back inside, and giggle quietly to yourself. It felt good to tease him. With how much he teases you, with how much he riles you up, it is his turn to be on the receiving end of torment. You rip off the one piece, and decide to put on one of the two pieces you were given to try. 

The one you decide to put on is a dark red bikini. The top clips on, so you didn’t need assistance this time. You look in the mirror and you notice how much the top pushes out your breasts. The flesh sticks out, making them look so much bigger than they were. You don’t know if Vincent was a boob man or not, but all you can think is you can’t wait to find out.

“Hey Vincent, can you tell me if this looks okay? I’m not sure how I feel about this one.”

You push the curtain open just as he turns to look in your direction, and his look is priceless. You see him take a heeded breath, one hand turning into a fist and the other gripping his side in what appears to be a hard grip. You hold back a smile, not wanting to give hints to your actions, and walk towards him. You are now standing toe to toe with him, looking up at a man who clearly was losing his cool. 

“Vincent, are you okay? You don’t look so good.” You coo, placing two fingers against his pulse point under his chin. He lets out a grunt at the contact, and your mind is reeling at how fast his pulse is going. 

“Vincent, what are yo-”

“I’m fine.” He grunts, taking your hand away from his neck.

You let it drop, and turn around to the booth. “Just one more and we can go, okay? I’ll be quick.”

You don’t give him another glance as you go back in. You fist pump the air in success as giving him a taste of his own medicine was truly a sight to behold. You are ready to go in for the kill with the last one, which is another bikini. However, this one was black with stretchy black laces that wrap around your stomach. This one felt like a good in between from the other two, but you feel this one will affect him the most. You don’t know why, but something about the intricacies of how it covers your body is simply seducing. 

You finish putting it on and you can’t help the excitement you feel. Out of the three, you like the way this one fits you the most. Not only is it comfortable, but it is an absolute confidence booster. It fits your body well and the laces across your waist accentuates it beautifully. Not only was this the swimsuit you would be purchasing, but you are excited to show it off to Vincent for another reaction. 

You rip open the curtain, cutting right to the chase, only to see he is no longer where he once stood. You hop out of the booth, looking around for the spiky black hair and red cloak, only to see him nowhere in sight. 

“You looking for your boyfriend, babes?” 

You turn to see the seller approaching you, the word boyfriend not even registering. You just want to find him.

“Yeah, did you see where he went?”

She nods over to the dock, back where the Tiny Bronco was located. “He went onto the dock. He seemed to be in quite a rush.”

You quickly thank her. You grab your things from the changing booth, and quickly round up the gil for the swimsuit you were wearing. “Thank you, keep the change.”

You run back to the dock and see the Bronco’s door slightly ajar. You push the door open, not wanting to alarm him as you climb on. You see him sitting on the bench in the very back, hands clutching his head and breathing heavy. Alarmed by how he is reacting, you make yourself known and slowly approach where he is sitting.

“Vincent, are you okay?” 

He grunts roughly, fingers visibly clutching his head harder. “You need to get off.”

You contemplated your next move. You could listen and get off, let him calm himself down. But then you think what if he can’t calm down? What if his mind spirals from his thoughts? Would you leaving really make things better or worse?

You think back to the time when you first met him, how defeated he looked after he had transformed back. How he had stared you down, taking your breath away at how utterly disheveled and beautiful he looked. He had been alone for so long, and that thought turned your rational mind off. You weren’t going to run. He needed you. 

“Vincent, I am not going anywhere.”

His head shoots up, his eyes crimson and face scrunched up like he was holding himself back. He notices your final change of the evening and the growl he lets out is feral. “You,” he snarls, “better not take a single step more.”

You stop again, realization hitting you like a freight train. Did I do this? Did I go too far? 

“Did I do something to upset you?” You ask quietly, afraid of what his response was going to be. “If I did, I am so sorry.”

He doesn’t respond, still looking to the ground although his breathing has subsided slightly. You approach him again, this time making it so you were only a foot away. 

“You don’t want this.” He mutters. 

“What do you mean?”

“I am a monster. The baggage I bring with me, the absolute madness that stirs from within. I don’t know if I can control myself, and that scares me, which means it will scare you.”

You can’t understand what he is saying. “You don’t scare me, Vincent. You could never scare me.”

He grunts out a laugh, like he doesn’t believe a word out of your mouth. “You don’t understand what primal thoughts are going through my mind right now.”

“Well, try me.” You reach out for his face, wanting to touch him, but his right hand grabs your wrist. 

“You don’t know what you want, so stop this.”

You feel like you could cry. The whiplash you are receiving after he has gotten under your skin only to rip himself away is too much. How dare he make your blood run hot and then make it go cold in an instant? You rip your arm away, taking a step back. Your gaze falls to the Bronco’s floor, feeling stupid at your attempt to draw him in. Your arms wrap around your body, sequestering it away from his gaze. 

“You don’t know what I want, so stop putting words into my mouth.” You choke out. Your fists are clenching on your tummy, anger starting to bubble to the surface. “I know you know how I feel about you because you wouldn’t continue to rile me up the way you do if you didn’t. I wouldn’t react the way I do if I didn’t. Truthfully, I love it. So don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know what I want.”

Everything goes quiet. The only thing that can be heard is the heavy breathing on both of your ends. Your anger disappears and is replaced with disappointment. You don’t know if there is any way to convince him, and you aren’t going to be made a fool in the process.

“I know what I want.” You say softly. “I have desires too.” 

It all happens so quickly, your body jolting forward until you are straddling his lap. You gasp, immediately feeling his hard on against your own clothed slit. He’s bigger than I thought, you think, for a man so skinny and sculpted . Two golden claws tilt your chin up, forcing you to be face to face with him. He is much taller than you, so he is slightly over you as he closes in. His breath fans over your lips, eyes erratic and glazed.

You let out a shaky sigh, letting your hands travel up to his face, cupping his cheeks gently as if to let him know what he wants to do is okay. “Do it. Show me you want me too.”

Lips press against yours instantly. It’s intense and intimate with the way he still has a hold on your chin and the way his free arm wraps around your waist to keep you grounded against him. You don’t know if it is the way he has you pressed to him or the way he surrounds your senses, but you feel calm. Even with the aggressive nature of his kisses, it is like he has seeped under your skin, a venomous serum to calm his prey down before he devours. You want more. You need more.

Your hands travel up past his temples to the back of his head, curling your fingers around his black locks. You pull delicately, not knowing how keen he was on pain, only to hear the most delicious whine leave his mouth into yours. You take the opportunity to let your tongue touch his, already becoming addicted to the way he tastes. His grip got tighter on you, trying to pull you in closer even if it wasn’t possible. There was an urgency in his actions as if what you two were doing was too much yet not enough. 

His erection was starting to react more and more against you. You could feel yourself growing restless with the need for some sort of contact. You work to shift your knees slightly, spreading them out more across the bench, and start to grind against the shape of his length. 

A growl from the deepest part of his throat rips out into the open. The claws of his gauntlet let go of your chin and latch to your hip. You stop your movements, thinking he was going to stop you, but he does no such thing. He pushes you down further onto his crotch, moving you himself to urge you to keep going. You follow his movements, letting him guide you back and forth on his cock. All you can think about is how large he is, and how good he feels against your pussy. However, it still isn’t enough. 

You move a hand down to your bottoms, sliding the part covering your heat to the side to get more friction. You can’t help the moan that leaves you the second your clit rubs against the leather of his pants, the roughness different from that of the silk. You move your hips faster, not skipping a beat as to chase a release. 

“That’s it,” Vincent growls against your lips. “Just like that.”

His encouragement sends dopamine right to your brain, giving your hips a mind of their own as you continue to rut against him. Your hips start to tire, becoming noticeable as your knees give out slightly before you readjust. Your mind begs you to keep going, begging to keep your pace so you can reach any type of peak. 

Your knees collapse again, and next thing you know your knees are no longer on the bench but spread far apart by Vincent’s thighs. His garbed hands are on your ass to keep you right where he wants you, and with the motion of his own hips he is rocking up into you slowly with firm pressure. You release his lips, your head resting on his shoulder as he grinds up into your cunt.

“Fuck, Vincent,” you drawl out, gripping his hair tighter with the hand still there, your other hand finding purchase on his shoulder. 

Vincent was having none of that, his right hand shoots to your head to pull it back to face him. What you see invigorates you, as Vincent’s eyes no longer had a red presense. They were the color of the light of day before dusk. The whites of his eyes were illuminated, and his canines had elongated drastically. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Vincent hisses. “Do you still want this?”

The self-pity in his eyes was becoming, and you weren’t having any of that. You were not about to have the man, who is making you go crazy by just nuzzling his long cock into your nethers, get distressed by disillusions. Your left hand drops from his head, dipping down where both of your crotches meet. The tips of your fingers dip into your dripping cunt, the evidence clear as day on his leathers. But if you must show extra proof, you will.

You stuff two of your fingers into your hole, still making eye contact with his yellow orbs as you let your face contort. Your fingers come out covered in your sticky fluid, translucent webbing formed in between your fingers. You bring it between your faces, your eyes bold and lips curling devilishly. “Does this answer your question?”

You don’t know what possessed you, but you let those fingers touch his lips. You pull his lower lip down, seeing if he would let his tongue travel out for a taste. You hum approvingly when he lets the tip give a small lick, and moan all together when he starts to lick them clean. Seeing Vincent obey such a small, unspoken command was the sexiest thing you have witnessed to date, and it makes you want to push him even more. 

You pull your fingers away, causing him to follow them to continue getting his fill. “Look at you,” you purr. “Like a kitten begging for milk.”

“You are one to talk.” He grumbles, thrusting his hips up so it rubs right against your clit. “You’re the one rubbing your bare cunt against me.”

A high-pitched moan wrangles from your throat as he bounced you up and down, followed by a sex drunken laugh. “Why don’t we change that?”

You push his chest so he is leaning way back on the bench, allowing you to steady yourself as you unbuckle his belts. As soon as you open his fly, his bulge pushes outward and you can hear the sigh of relief leave his lungs. Your hands dip into his underwear, pulling the elastic down to release his cock fully. His cock springs up, precum drooling from his swollen head. Your hand wraps around the tip, squeezing to see another pearl form. Your thumb sweeps over it, gathering as much as you can, before bringing it up to your mouth with the need to taste him.

If Vincent’s eyes could glow brighter, they would have blinded you with the way he was watching you. You let your thumb pop out of your mouth, letting some spit travel down your hand before rubbing it over his cock. You readjust once more, angling your hips so your clit would connect with his tip with each roll, and sit right back onto his lap. You both cry out in unison, both of you sensitive and in dire need of release. You crash your lips against his as you roll your hips in a slow, yet firm rhythm. Your hands grip at his hair, loving the way he ruts into you when you pull on it. You don’t hold back, too far gone to tease the daylights out of him, moaning into his mouth every time the head of his cock kisses your bud. 

Vincent wasn’t faring any better, his volume only increasing at the friction. He releases your lips, his head falling onto your shoulder with a long groan. You feel tiny prickles against your skin, his fangs grazing it as he kisses and sucks on your flesh. His hands go over the strings of your swimsuit, gripping the skin of your waist to pull you closer.

His mouth proceeds up your shoulder to your jaw, nipping your pulse point before licking it. The difference between the movement of his hips and his lips is drastic. His lips move slowly, caressing the skin after every love bite he gives you like you are delicate, while his hips buck into you with conviction. It is like he doesn’t know whether he wants to cherish you, or prove to you how much of a monster he can be. 

Both of your essences are mixing as you continue, creating easier movement and a more heavenly feeling. You can feel yourself getting close to your release, hips flying back and forth trying to grasp onto it. It isn’t until your hips give out, a frustrated whine leaving you as the peak downtrails.

“Don’t you dare give up on me.” Vincent orders into your ear. 

“Fuck, I can’t,” you sob, the ache in your hips and knees showing as you start to slow down.

You don’t fully comprehend what happens next, not until you feel the cold metal of the Bronco’s floor on your back. Vincent yanks your bottoms down your legs, exposing all you have to offer to him. He is on you, hunched over you as he thrusts against your fully exposed cunt. You can’t help but shove your head into the crevice of his neck, wailing at how fast he is going. You are surprised he hasn’t accidentally slipped in with how wet you are, the sounds coming from your nethers making that more apparent. 

“I am so close, fuck!” You whimper. You are on the cusp. You needed something. Just a little push to put you over.  “Please, please, please, Vincent! I need it so bad! I need you!”

You feel his fangs against your shoulder, nipping and licking the same spot over and over again. A warm sensation fills you, not registering it until the piercing pain of his incisors sink into your skin. It hurts so good, the combination of pain and pleasure shooting through your system. It sets the tone for your release, causing you to scream into his shoulder. It is electrifying, ecstasy filling in the gaps as your orgasm rolls in waves. Vincent wasn’t far behind, and something about your blood must have sent him into a frenzy. His hips are going inhumanly quick, and after a few more thrusts he ejects his fangs from your body as he cums.

His moans echoing into your ear has you gripping onto him harder, comforting him as he rides out his high. Fingers stroke the hairs on the back of his neck, hushing him soothingly as his body shakes. It isn’t long after he starts groaning, his grip tightening on your thighs. 

“Are you okay?” You ask worried, lifting his head so you can get a good look at him. But what you see stirs something from deep within your chest.

You don’t know if it’s because golden hour has reached its peak, but he looks ethereal. His fangs were no more, but there was blood that has stained his mouth. The beams of golden light reflect off of him, his pale skin shining from the light perspiration on his face. He looks so beautiful in the sun’s rays, like an angel wrapped in light. His eyes slowly open, and a soft gasp leaves your lips. His eyes were no longer illuminating yellow. His eyes, the vibrancy of them, have transformed into the sun. Their usual molten color is bright like the sun's surface. His usual orange rings that surround his pupil are golden, and you can see your reflection in the deep black.

He takes a minute to gather himself before nodding, a sigh passing through his lips before sitting up on his knees. You peer down to your lower half, which is now covered in his seed and your own mess. Vincent’s eyes are glued to your mound, his cum having pooled there from his heavy release. After a moment, he takes his leather glove off his right hand, skin pale and blue from the veins protruding. His fingers dip into his cooled cum, letting it collect on his fingers before pulling his hand away. 

“Vincent, what are yo-” you start before you watch him bring his fingers towards your lips. He lets them hover, waiting to see if you would be as keen to sampling him again like he did with you. 

A light chuckle leaves your lips. He is just full of surprises.

You sit up on your elbows, your mouth pressing light kisses to his fingers before indulging. Your eyes flutter close, a quiet moan rumbling from your chest as take in his taste for a second time. He tastes neutral, nothing too bitter or too musky. It tastes exactly as you expected. Because it was him, he tasted absolutely delectable. And you can’t get enough.

“Look at you,” Vincent mimics your tone from earlier, smirking in the process. “Like a kitten begging for milk.”

His fingers leave your mouth, making you chase after them until he kisses you suddenly. The iron attacks your senses pleasantly, and his humming tells you that his seed is having the same effect on him. You both stay there for a while, just kissing in each other’s mess, and before you know it the sky has turned into its orange hue before the nightfall. 

You decide to pull away first, bringing your hands to his face to soothe the sweat dried skin. “I don’t want this to end, but we should get going. The others may be wondering where we wandered off to.”

He hums slowly, like he was debating whether he cared or not, but ultimately decided to sit fully up. He puts his cock back into his leathers, getting himself situated before he helps you stand up properly. Your body doesn’t feel real from how drained your muscles are, and you think he can tell by the way he guides your hands to his shoulders. He brings your bottoms over to your legs, and urges you to put your feet through the openings. Using his shoulders as leverage, you do as he silently instructs and he pulls them up until you are covered. You look down and see the cum has dried on your skin, and the thought of anyone possibly seeing it makes your cheeks burn, knowing you’d never live it down. 

“Do you think anyone will notice?”

Instantly, like he was already planning to do this, he undid the buckles of his cape and wrapped it around your shoulders. With him being such a broad and tall man, his cape covered you very well and hid the evidence of your coupling.

“It gets cool during nightfall. It won’t be suspicious.”

“But what about your pants? There is cum on them too.”

“Truthfully, I don’t care.”

You pull the cape closer to you, inhaling and exhaling his scent, filling your brain with a sense of safety. Vincent believed he wasn’t deserving of you, that he was a danger to you and others. But when you feel such a sense of security with him, how can he not see that you need him?

He finishes putting his glove back on, flexing his fingers before he goes to open the door of the Bronco. Your brain reacts first, hand grabbing his arm before he could expose you both to the outside world. You needed to know something. You needed to know if he still feels how he felt earlier.

“Vincent, can I ask you something?”

He turns to you, curiosity peaking. He places his golden fingers over the hand gripping his arm, signaling for you to ask your question.

“You don’t regret what just happened, do you? I’m not going to wake up like it was yesterday, am I?” 

There is silence, and you mentally hit yourself for the lack of confidence, your voice having dropped to a whisper. Your head drops again, worried about what was about to not be said, before you feel a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“There is nothing to regret,” he murmurs. “Especially when it comes to you.”

You lift your head up, eyes meeting his, before letting a smile form on your face. His facial features match your own, and he brings you in for a sweet kiss before you two return to the others. You don’t think about them though, because all you can think is that he let you in.

He willingly let you in.

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 7

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] Part 7: [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Angry Sex, Nightmares, Domesticity, Morning Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

Glimpses of every day life and sharing an apartment with Carmy.

"I'm sorry, okay? I am! I won't use your ingredients without asking- just- please calm the fuck down!"

Your small argument from closing time had escalated on the way home to the point where you were screaming at each other by the time you slammed the apartment door behind you and followed Carmy to the bedroom. You had fought before, of course you had. But this was probably the worst one so far.

Carmy stood on the opposite corner of the room, hands on his hips, breathing heavily.

"Do you know how fucking expensive imported black garlic is?"

"I don't, but I have the feeling you're going to tell me," you spat, petty, the whole sentence leaving a bitter taste inside your mouth. You backtracked."I'm sorry. I'll pay for it, okay?" you tried to appease him even as your blood was boiling. "Listen, when I moved in, I was ready to make some compromises. I downsized my closet, I sold some furniture-"

"I didn't ask you to do any of that," Carmy interrupted you.

"Carm," you gave him a stern look. "I'm only saying that you could be more understanding about shit like this. We share the fridge and the pantry. I'm sorry I assumed I could use the stuff inside without asking, it will not happen again," you repeated, then inhaled deeply. "Just- I can't help feeling this isn't about that."

Carmy looked red in the face, angry like you had only seen him inside the kitchen, pacing and flexing his fingers. You couldn't believe he was actually losing his shit so severely over a steak and some garlic - even if it was a super expensive steak and black garlic.

He looked at the ceiling. "It is about you touching my shit without asking. It is about you leaving your things on the kitchen table when I need it to work-" he clenched his jaw. "I'm sick and tired of not knowing where anything is in my own fucking apartment!"

You had organized the closet to fit your stuff, and  put Carmy's vintage denim and your bigger dresses in storage. You still had to get a desk for your sewing machine and work stuff, in the meantime it had stayed on the kitchen table, which, in your defense, had remained unused for most of your stay.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked in exasperation. "I've been living here for three weeks! You could have said something instead of bottling it up until it was-" you gestured vaguely in his direction, "whatever this is!"

"I like you being here, I didn't want to scare you off!" Carmy groaned.

"Carm, did you think I would leave if we didn't agree on where the shirts are supposed to go?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Dunno!"

"You can tell me things, Carm!" you crossed the room until he was close enough to touch. His eyes looked like the sky before a storm. "You can tell me anything."

"Then why are you so fucking mad?" he said defiantly.

"Because I don't like when you yell at me like I'm just another chef in your fucking kitchen," you said, it was something you had been keeping quiet since your fight started. "I'm not getting paid to put up with this shit."

It struck Carmy completely quiet. And you regretted it the moment it left your lips. You had almost found some middle ground and you had trampled all over it. He took a step closer and stared at you, his eyes dark and angry, the space between you felt charged.

Before you knew what was going on, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and kissed you roughly, biting on your lips, mouth wide open. You pressed on his chest with your hands - you were still too mad at him. But his hands were strong and his tongue was relentless and you could feel yourself getting wet from the mixture of anger and lust - and who knew those two emotions were so close to each other?

"Fuck, I can stop," he said, barely separating his lips from yours, breathing hard. "You want that?"

You pulled on his shirt, bringing him towards you, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Then, using that same grasp, you moved him to the edge of the bed and pushed him hard, his curls bouncing as he fell on his back.

"I want you to fucking apologize, Carmen," you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. You leaned over and trapped his wrists with your hands, above his head. Even putting all your strength into it, he could wiggle himself free at any moment, but he didn't; he stayed down and looked at you hungrily.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little too cocky for your taste, a smirk barely hidden on the side of his face.

You ground your hips against his, feeling his cock harden underneath you. He rolled his eyes and arched his neck. He looked beautiful, like a marble statue.

"What was that?" you asked, stopping your movement abruptly and getting close to his face.

He whined. "I'm sorry," and it sounded more truthful this time.

"Mhmm, that's more like it."

You kept holding both of Carmy's wrists with one hand, while the other moved downward, going underneath his shirt and playing with his nipple, massaging and pinching gently until he closed his eyes and hummed in bliss. Then you stopped.

"Fuck you," he said, letting out some leftover venom from your fight. 

You smirked - why was this so hot?

You got your answer immediately after, when Carmy got free and turned you over, fast and aggressive, like he rarely was in the bedroom. He caged you with his arms and legs, all taut muscle and shaking breaths.

"What about you?" he said, his voice low.

"What about me?" you tilted your head. "I apologized like ten times, Carm. And I meant it."

"You said some fucked up things just now," his breath tickled your face as he studied you from every angle, like he was a wild animal and you were his prey.

"I did," you admitted. You arched your neck, trying to get close and... What? Kiss him? Bite him? You weren't sure. He put one hand on your throat, not quite a caress, closing his tattooed fingers around it. You squeezed your thighs together, blood flowing with need. "I meant some of that too."

"Which part?"

"That I don't like when you yell at me," you said honestly, the moment a little cheapened with how horny you sounded.

"That all?" Carmy's voice had turned hoarse from screaming and you wished you didn't find it so attractive.

"Yeah," you exhaled.

"Good," he said dryly and got up, freeing you, but you remained immobile.

Suddenly, he yanked hard on your jeans and underwear, leaving you bare in seconds.

"Fuck, Carmy."

You hated how needy you sounded, how wrecked you felt as he licked his hand and finally put his fingers inside you, how good he was at making you crumble... You let out a pleading and pathetic sound as he touched your clit roughly and finger fucked you a little too hard.

Then, he took his fingers out without a warning, leaving you empty and out of breath; his hands ghosted the insides of your thighs. You grabbed at his wrist, begging to be touched again. Carmy climbed on the bed instead, hovering above you, kissing you ferociously.

"Eager?" he teased when you started raising your hips to rub on his jeans.

"Impatient," you replied, trying to wind him up.

It worked - his eyes darkened again.

"Hands above your head," he ordered and you obeyed. He took your shirt off carelessly, your bra was almost spilling out with how forceful he was being but he didn't bother taking it off. The whole thing was angry, urgent, and so fucking hot. Carmy was undoing his belt and you used the pause to scoot backwards, just enough to reach your bedside table.

"Hurry the fuck up!" You threw a condom at him, hitting him square on the face.

Carmy gave you a look that was half exasperation, half amused lust. He unbuttoned his jeans just enough to take his cock out, then threw the empty wrapper back at you. He grabbed your legs and dragged you closer, forcefully, the duvet wrinkling underneath you.

"I swear I'm gonna-"

You didn't let him finish. You fisted the collar of his t-shirt and brought him down to kiss, biting on his lower lip, then soothing with your tongue. You opened your legs wide and tugged at the belt loops of his jeans - there was something arousing about him being almost completely clothed and you being almost naked.

"Fuck me, please, fuck me," you begged into his mouth, way past any sense of pride you had at the beginning of the fight. Carmy wasn't any better, rushing to obey the moment you said it.

"Fucking need it," he groaned as he entered you. It wasn't clear if he was talking about you or him - not that you had time to think about it before he started pounding into you. You felt every inch of Carmy's cock as it went in and out.

"So fucking good," you rasped to the side of his face. It spurred him on and made him go faster and harder - your moans got louder and louder. He covered your mouth with his hand.

"The fucking mouth on you," he mumbled low. You clenched your pussy in retaliation and watched as he rolled his eyes and lost his rhythm. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me."

You ran your hands under his shirt, tracing the contour of his muscles, feeling them quiver and strain as Carmy tried his damnedest to keep going, one hand on the mattress and the other keeping you quiet. Part of you smiled in satisfaction knowing he was getting tired and wouldn't last.

"Shit. Fuck me," he whined and stopped for a moment, sweating and panting. He finally uncovered your mouth, conceding defeat.

"Want me to take over?" you asked with a chuckle.

Carmy sighed and fell on the mattress beside you. "Still mad at you," he said, the sound pitiful with how hard he was breathing.

"Good to know," you climbed on top of him, straddling, lowering yourself on his cock, making him arch his back with pleasure. "I'm still mad too."

You rode him mercilessly, your hips slamming against his, hands on his chest, his eyes marveling at the bounce of your breasts. You took him right to the edge and left him hanging, the veins of his neck bulging as he groaned in frustration.

You clicked your tongue, swaying gently. "Not coming until I do."

"Yeah?" he arched his eyebrows, taking the challenge for what it was.

His hand moved from gripping your hip to where your bodies connected, his thumb finding your clit and caressing it. Your legs shook involuntarily, a spark going through you.

He grinned.

"Oh, fuck you," you sighed, your neck arched, looking at the ceiling while you bounced on his cock. He knew just what he was doing - making you tremble and moan with every gentle touch.

"Come on," he urged you, meeting your thrusts, fucking into you, hitting your G spot almost by mistake.

"Fuck," you gasped, biting your lip to stop from screaming.

You rode him much faster, something desperate and feral taking over you. Carmy's eyes widened when your walls started fluttering around his cock.

"Are you-? Can I-?" he asked in a choked out voice.

"Yes, yes," you managed to say, squeezing the wrist of the hand that was touching your clit so deliciously as your orgasm started taking over every one of your senses. "Yes, Carmy."

He tensed underneath you, flushed all over, eyes closed, and his lips forming a beautiful 'O'. You stared, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes.

He looked up at you, soft, grateful, a smile curling his lips.

"C'mere," he beckoned you downwards, meeting you with relieved kisses, breathy laughter filling the space between you. He caressed your back, tugging on your bra straps until you were somewhat covered again. The tenderness of the gesture warmed you all over.

"You okay?" Carmy asked and you nodded, nuzzling your nose against his in the process. A pause. "Hey. I am sorry. I was angry and-"

"I know," you fixed his hair, all sweaty and sticking on his forehead. "I'm sorry too."

He kissed your shoulder lovingly.

"I like you being here," he said. "I just- I need time to figure it out. That okay?"

"Yeah," you traced the line of his nose with your finger. "We'll figure it out together, baby."

You kissed him sweetly and he rolled you over to your side.

"I'll go to the thrift store tomorrow," you said, cupping his face. "Buy a desk and shit."

Carmy smiled. "I'll fix the pantry. Put labels on my shit. Make room for your things."

"I think that's the most romantic thing you've said to me," you joked, giggling when he tickled your sides.

"Shut the fuck up!"

He laughed with you, leaving kisses on your face and throat.

~

You woke up to the sound of Carmy talking in his sleep. Most of it was gibberish, quiet mumbles as he thrashed on the bed, the one word you could make out was 'Mikey' - over and over. He winced and let out a pained sound. You got closer and held him, your arm across his chest.

You knew he had nightmares, you'd been there for a couple of them, but sleeping every night with him meant you saw much more of it. It broke your heart how many you had missed, how bad he hurt...

"It's okay, Carmy," you soothed softly. "I'm here, baby, it's okay."

He woke up with a startle, breathing fast.

"Fuck, sorry," he sat up and ran his hands over his face. "Bad dream."

"I know," you waited for him to settle, giving him space.

After a while, he laid back next to you. You moved slowly, gently, touching the side of his face and caressing his hair, calming him down.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh," Carmy looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard, "there was a fire. Just so much smoke," he cleared his throat. "And, uh, Mike was there." There was a long pause. "Did I ever tell you he planned to set the restaurant on fire?"

"What?" you froze.

He hummed. "To cash the insurance money, you know," he reached for your free hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing them close to his chest; his heart was pounding.

"I'm sorry, Carm," you waited for him to say something but he stayed silent, vacant. "It feels so weird that I never met him."

"Probably for the better, to be honest," he said dryly. There was something dark about the way he said it.

"Hey," you squeezed his hand, trying to ground him. "What'd you like about him?"

"About Mike?" he said looking at you. "Uh- He was warm. He told the best stories, took care of Nat and me, gave the best hugs... A real big brother, you know?"

You nodded.

"Started getting tattoos because of him," he said, flexing his hands to show the ink on them. "He was so cool, and I wanted to be that."

"I think you're pretty cool," you said sweetly, kissing his knuckles.

"Thanks," he said through a sad smile. "Richie says he was all wrong by the end of it..."

"Wrong how?"

"He wasn't warm anymore, he was, uh, like a fryer fire, I guess. His stories didn't make sense. Kept forgetting shit. A mess, you know?"

"Maybe that's why he pushed you away," you said softly. You knew Carmy felt guilty for his time in New York. "He wanted you to remember him like he was before."

"Maybe," he conceded, looking up at the ceiling.

You stayed like that for a while, caressing his arm, tracing lines on his skin.

"Would you-" he said, then stopped.

You turned to face him. "Yes?"

"Would you hold me?" Carmy asked, his blue eyes open and vulnerable.

"Of course," you smiled and shifted on the bed to spoon him, his back to your chest, your arms around him, leaving gentle kisses on his shoulder blade. You could feel his heartbeat settle as he went back to sleep.

"Love you, Carm," you said right before you drifted off.

~

You woke up to the feeling of Carmy kissing your face softly. You hummed, content. When you opened your eyes, the bright light of late morning was all over your bedroom.

"Didn't hear you coming in last night," you said, your voice raspy with sleep.

"Got in late. Bad day," he raised his hand to touch your hair, staring at the way it caught the light. "Nat forced me to take today off."

"That bad?" you asked, a little concerned.

Carmy moved his fingers to the worry lines on your face, soothing.

"Not really. Someone talked about work life balance in her last Al-family meeting and she's all about that shit right now," he smiled. You loved to see how he looked soft with sleep, relaxed for a little while.

"Have I told you I really like her?"

"You might have," he said playfully, then leaned over to kiss you. It was a gentle thing, his lips lazy on yours and his body flushed as he hugged you.

You took his shirt off, not out of lust, just wanting to get more warmth from his skin on yours. You slowly started kissing his tattoos. You liked the ones on his arms and hands; they were familiar, whenever you thought of Carmy it was the image you conjured. But you loved his other tattoos, the ones nobody else saw, the secrets he kept and only shared with you. You left kisses on his shoulder and his chest, running your fingers on the ink on his ribs and right above his hip bone.

"I've missed you, Carm," you confessed.

It had been a hectic couple of weeks. You had barely seen each other, mostly just sleeping on the same bed, saying good night and good morning before each of you left for work.

"Missed you too," he replied.

His hands roamed your body, tugging gently at the fabric of your sleep shirt, helping you out of it, all while kissing you. You melted in his arms, pliant as he rolled you over and started leaving pecks on your skin.

"Carmy," you sighed. His lips left imprints on your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. He stayed there, kissing the top of your breasts, the side, the valley between them, and your nipples. Your pulse was racing and you wondered whether he could feel it with his mouth.

"You're so soft," he said, his exhale giving you goosebumps. "Smell so nice."

"You smell nice too, baby," you giggled. Carmy's hair still had a lavender-like scent from his night shower.

"Mmm..."

He kept kissing. Your belly, your hip, the wrinkle that formed between your mound and your thigh. There was something so like devotion in the way that he moved; it wasn't about filling some selfish need to get his dick wet, he wanted you to feel loved.

"C’mere," you called him back up, to kiss his lips fervently, your hands buried in his hair. When you parted, he smiled, his eyes were still sleepy. He looked so comfortable, so soft...

Your hand traced again that tattoo on his hip, then moved downward, to the hair on his navel, and lower, touching him over his boxers. He was half hard, his nose buried in your neck. When he groaned, his chest rumbled against yours.

"So nice," he said. "’m too fucking tired to fuck you like you deserve, though."

Your free hand caressed the back of Carmy's neck, holding him closer.

"Just want you to relax, make you feel good," you whispered, moving the hand on his cock back and forth, slow, loving.

He moaned, then shifted a little on the bed. You didn't realize why he was moving until his hand snaked its way inside your shorts.

"Oh," you squirmed a little at the feeling of his fingers.

"Too cold?" Carmy asked.

"No, it's okay," you leaned to kiss him. "It's okay," you repeated.

You kept on touching and kissing, everything in that sort of clumsy haze, one of your legs over his. You needed this: being with him without the rush of being late, no urgency, no fucking as fast as you could before Carmy had to run to the restaurant. You had all the time in the world - you could count the freckles on his face and stare at the blue in his eyes as he mumbled sweet nothings into the morning air.

His free hand touched your wrist, guiding it to the head of his cock, the sluggish rhythm you had set just enough to make him roll his eyes and kiss you hard, drowning a whine against your lips as he released.

"Love you so much," Carmy mumbled.

You kissed the side of his face. "I love you, I love you," your voice came out choked and high.

Without you noticing, the constant massaging between your folds had built up too. You came with a long exhale, closing your eyes for a moment, lightly squeezing his side.

"Wanna stay here forever," he said after a while of just looking at you and caressing your back.

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," you replied tiredly.

"I'd like that."

~

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 8]

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[gimme-a-man-after-midnight]

my royal roomie (part 2)

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Orm Marius x Reader

part 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/gimme-a-man-after-midnight/693273500438429696/my-royal-roomie-pt-1?source=share

Summary: After a few days of living under your roof, Orm gets to know the little surface dweller he's been stuck with. With time, a stormy night, and a bottle of wine, the prince learns that he has more in common with you than he may think.

Word Count: 4,000+

Warnings: female reader, slow burn, light cursing, mentions of past emotional abuse, divorced parents!reader, dead parent, comic lore inaccuracies, floral inaccuracies??

Author's Note:

hi y'all! here's the full part 2 i've been working on for some time! thanks for the support on the last one and again, so sorry for the late continuation :/ i hope this story is to your liking! happy reading!

After the first one-on-one conversation you had in the living room, Orm didn't come out of the guest bedroom for days. You’d see flashes of platinum blonde out of the corner of your eye, just barely missing him by a few seconds whenever you’d be in the kitchen or outside of his door. You had made many offers through the red painted oak of his room to go grocery shopping together or take him on a tour of the town, but all of your efforts were met with a stern "No thank you." You had lost any hope you had of forming some kind of connection with the Atlantean for a while, cutting your losses by quietly resigning to a parallel existence. What you didn’t expect was the mutual understanding you two would come to on one fateful stormy Friday night, much like the one that brought him to your doorstep.

***

 Heavy traffic from the drive home, a full message inbox on your telephone, and the burnt attempt at roast chicken sitting on your oven rack had you nursing a glass bottle of wine by the living room window. Bad days were normal for anybody, but it didn’t make them easier to deal with on your own - the added stress of the stranger living in your space didn’t help either. You had been living a quiet life ever since you moved back to the sleepy town some years ago, taking up very little space and leaving minimal traces of yourself. Whether it was out of caution or cowardice, you weren’t sure yet. Either way, that silence had brought you comfort at a time where your thoughts were too loud, but now with another person occupying your space the quiet was becoming suffocating. 

Orm wasn’t by any means a bad roommate - he kept to himself, he didn’t make much noise, and he even managed to wash his dishes whenever he knew you weren’t in the kitchen - but he was a man.The last time you had lived with a man, the end of its course felt similar to how you two were living now, and maybe that’s why it was bothering you so much. Tip-toeing around the Atlantean made you feel uneasy in your own home, a situation you were all too familiar with. Typically at this time in the night you would be cooking up some plan to urge the man out of his guest room, but after the day you had, you didn’t have the heart to try. 

Once you took your final gulp of wine, wiping at the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand, you trudged away from the raging display outside of your window. The dishes could be a tomorrow problem, you thought to yourself as you were leaving your kitchen counter behind. You had only made it a few paces out of the living room before your body was overcome with chills, making you draw your blanket tighter around you. The draft through the house was unmistakable, confusing you thoroughly due to you always making sure the doors and windows were shut before bed. As you stepped deeper into the house, you realized the distinct breeze was coming from the direction of the guest bedroom. You had made it a point to allow Orm his space, but your brain was stirring with reasons for what he could possibly be doing in there  - most of them unsavory. 

With a deep breath and a tight fist holding your blanket, you gently rapped at the door. 

“Hey, Orm?”

No response. You knock again.

“I don’t mean to bother, but I’m feeling a bit of a breeze through the house and I can tell it’s coming from here, so I just want to see if everything is alri-”

The door suddenly opened a crack, revealing half of Orm’s face which was already more than you had seen in days. 

“If you don’t mean to bother, then don’t.”

The curt response, although expected, has you taken aback. Already seeing the Atlantean retreat from the spot again, you hold the door in its place in effort to keep his attention.

“Look, I know you wanna be alone, but I can’t help wondering why a cold ass breeze is coming from your room, so I just want to see what’s going on. Please, it’s freezing right now.” You do your best to keep control of your tone, not wanting to let on just how much the cold was getting to you - giving the prince another reason to look down on humans wasn’t on your agenda for the night.

 Almost as if he commanded the storm, the lightning cracked loudly outside as Orm swung his door open, revealing his full disheveled state to you. You jolted in place, practically leaping a step back in defense at the swift move.

“What’s going on is the stench of your burnt dinner was practically singeing my nostrils. I opened a window in hopes that I could find some relief, because clearly you surface dwellers have no trouble polluting not only the ocean, but your precious breathing air as well! I have little care for how cold your fragile body may get, so I suggest you retire to your room at once and leave me be.”  

There was a gap in the yelling match conversation, almost as if the blond was waiting for you to bite back at his harsh words, but the glazed look in your eyes and parted lips made it evident to the Atlantean that your mind was elsewhere. Orm followed your gaze, noticing that it was locked onto the maroon sweater he was adorning, looking at it with equal parts surprise and melancholy. His enhanced hearing picked up on a hitch in your breath and chattering of your teeth, confirming to him that you were clearly shaken.

After the long silence, you mousily spoke.

“I didn’t leave that sweater out for you.” 

 The arbitrary words silenced Orm, his expression turning to one of confusion as he looked down at the knit fabric on his chest.

“...where did you find it?” 

Your voice didn’t change in volume when you made your inquiry, but your tone was somber. The candid emotion made the Atlantean clear his throat awkwardly, unsure of how to handle such vulnerability from his host. You couldn’t even fully appreciate how much messier Orm looked in comparison to when he first arrived - looking like a 90s wet dream with his ungelled hair, clenched jaw, and broad shoulders peeking out of his loose fitting clothes. No, it was the clothes that were holding your attention hostage.

“It was deep in the wooden wardrobe of my room…the garb you set out for me wasn’t suitable for the storm,” Orm says, arms crossed in a defensive manner as he anticipates your response.

A part of you wanted to laugh at his retort, the corner of your lips quirking up for a millisecond before melting back into the numb expression you had prior. 

“Are you going to ask me to change? Because I don’t see why I should relent,” the blond goads, pulling a haughty expression that comes all too naturally.

Orm wasn’t sure himself why he wanted to urge a response from you - why he wanted to learn more about this sweater that was clearly jumbling up your thoughts enough to render you so silent. He tried to chalk it up to plain boredom, tried to reason with himself that all his time in self-isolation was making him yearn for more. Still, even with those excuses lined up to justify his actions, he couldn’t explain why seeing the down-turned expression on your lips felt so unnerving. This woman in front of him now was like a shell in comparison to the buoyant, eccentric character he had been previously introduced to - and for some bizarre reason he didn’t like it. 

Your thought process, on the other hand, was going in a completely different route. The glaringly red knit in your line of sight brought back too many memories that you had made efforts to bury. The cursed sweater in combination with the Atlantean prince’s snark makes your breath quicken and your mind wander to the whisper of a past life that still takes up space in your home. You couldn’t decipher if your shivering was coming from Orm’s open window or from your body trying to eject all of the feelings evoked from seeing that damn sweater.

“I-I…you…you shouldn’t-” you shakily exhale, your eyes surveying around your surroundings to try and focus on literally anything else. You backstep, hoping that physically running away from the situation will do you good, but your eyes lining up with the red-clad chest and the sound of the booming thunder makes you falter. Your hand clutches at your chest, the white knuckled grip on your blanket alerting your roommate.

The prince's body calls to action, making Orm take an instinctive step forward, reaching out as if to try and steady you. 

“What is happening with you? Why are you so high-strung? Do humans go into cardiac arrest so easily?” 

You couldn’t hear his stern questioning, your mind flitting to images of firm fists slammed against tables and nights spent alone, buried deep under your covers in the hopes of being swallowed by the sheets. It was like the space in your lungs was being taken up by a vice grip, and your ability to think - to form a simple thought that didn’t make your heart hurt - was completely ripped away from you. Even after four years, the memories of him still have so much power over you in a way that’s paralyzing.

“I-I just - I need - I need to breathe!”

With that final exclamation, you scurried away from the Atlantean, quickly making it back to your room before slamming the door shut behind you. Orm was left stunned outside of his door, his eyes trained in the direction of your room down the hall. 

What the hell just happened?

***

Arthur was done - so done.

The newly crowned Atlantean king had so much on his plate already, what with his upcoming engagement underway and him having an entire kingdom to look after. While he did appreciate his little brother feeling comfortable enough to call him at such an ungodly hour, the words the blond uttered made him want to pull his hair out. 

“I think I broke her - your human.”

“Bro, what?”

It was too fucking early for this. 

“Don’t call me - agh, nevermind - something’s wrong with your human and I’m not sure how to approach the situation. Is this really an environment you believe me to find enrichment from? My host is clearly on the brink of some sort of breakdown and I-”

“Wow, I never took you for someone that was so easily shaken, brother.”

Arthur’s poorly timed quip makes Orm stare back at the projection call with a blank face.

“First off, she’s not my human, she’s her own person. Second, what did you even do? She’s not one to just collapse on her own - although she is a serial overthinker and could definitely talk herself to an early grave...”

Orm, frustrated with his half-brother’s lack of support, rolls his eyes over the call.

“Okay, okay, but seriously. Something must’ve set her off or triggered her to react in a way. You sure you didn’t do anything?” 

“All I did was answer the door when she knocked. When she saw me at the entrance, she saw the sweater I was wearing and was overcome with emotion. That’s hardly my fault.”

Orm can see Arthur’s brows furrow in thought at the information, almost as if he’s assessing whether he’s been given the whole story or not.

“Well…where’d you get the sweater?”

“I hardly think that matters-”

“Just answer the question, bro-”

An exasperated grunt leaves Orm as he grips at the sheets beneath him in an attempt to contain himself. A part of him regretted bringing up the matter at all, communication with his half-brother being much too awkward to bear. 

“I got it from the wooden wardrobe inside of my chambers! It was much more practical to wear than the flimsy garb-”

“Shit,” Arthur cuts him off, the hologram shifting as the man rubs at his eyes. “The wooden wardrobe with vines on the sides?”

It was Orm’s turn to be taken aback, unsure of how he knew the detail from off the top of his head.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

A muffled sigh comes from Arthur’s end, the image changing again as the king shuffles out of bed quietly to not disturb a sleeping Mera.

“Listen, dude. It’s not my place to speak on her business like this, but all I can say is that the wardrobe - that room - holds a lot of memories that are painful for her. I know you didn’t mean to bring them up, but that wardrobe is off limits. Just try and apologize for now, but don’t pry.”

“But why should I-”

“Orm, seriously! I get it, you don’t like being there - that you’ve spent every day in your room ever since I dropped you off, but she’s been trying. She’s been doing everything she can to get you out of your shell and you’re not giving back anything. There has to be some give here, and that can start with you saying sorry.” 

Orm was surprised by the fact that Arthur knew of his daily whereabouts already, undoubtedly asking you for updates on him. However, what surprised him the most was that even though you have seemingly complained to his half brother, you never once suggested kicking him out - never demanded he leave your house and have Atlantis deal with him. You truly were a peculiar little thing. 

“...fine. But don’t expect me to continue such niceties with her.”

A belly laugh could be heard from over the call, surely out of amusement for the prince's unwavering coldness.

“Good. Now hang up, you disrupted my beauty sleep.”

With a scoff, Orm presses on the green gem of his wristlet and heads off to the direction of your room.

***

When Orm knocks on your door, he expects a big fuss - bouts of yelling, arguing, or cursing that’ll leave his highly sensitive ears ringing. What he doesn’t expect is everyone of his knocks being met with silence - deafening silence now that the storm has subsided. 

“Hello?”

The prince feels weirdly small waiting by your door for your answer, having no clue what he’ll be met with on the other side of him. (It also gives him some insight on how you must feel every time you knock on his door to chat, although he’d never admit to having similarities with you,)

“Are you ignoring me?” 

More silence. 

“Oh, enough of this childishness.”

With a deep breath in, Orm turns the knob of your door and lets himself into your room. He’s met with colorful tapestries embellishing the walls, big rugs covering the hardwood floor, and twinkling lights surrounding the bed frame. The scene that you set for yourself in your room makes Orm think about his home - the way that the colorful bioluminescence would sparkle throughout his kingdom. 

When the initial first impression of your room wears off, he notices there is no one in the bed. No squirming presence under the sheets or anyone sitting on top of the bed to give him a stern talking to. Where did you go?

The blond takes a tentative step inside, stepping over the fuzzy carpets to keep from disturbing their arrangement. When he walks past the bed frame and closer to the window, he sees a lump of a human wearing a large blanket over their shoulders and some type of bulky headgear that covers your ears and emits sound. You were completely enthralled by the scene outside of the window that you hardly notice Orm stepping up next to you. 

A sudden hand on your shoulder has you jolting upward with a yelp, your hand instinctively slapping away at the intruder before you turn to look at where they came from.

“Jesus fucking christ!”

Orm gets into his own defensive position as you scramble to press your back against the wall, looking at you as if you were a trembling animal.

“My god, woman!”

“What are you doing in here you scared me half to-”

“I knocked but there was no answer so I-”

“Oh, so you decided to just welcome yourself in?”

Orm purses his lips in frustration, not thrilled at being met with the uproar he had originally expected. You sigh to yourself in disbelief, willing yourself to be quiet since there would be no productive conversation if you two kept yelling at each other.

“Next time just take the hint that I’m busy if I don’t answer, okay? You can’t just barge in here when you want, it’s not cool…”

The Atlantean has some sense to feel a shred of shame when you speak, although your words are hardly convincing when your eyes don’t turn in his direction for even a second. You look so timid standing there in your corner with the blanket consuming you completely - not at all like the spitfire that called him an “asshole” and warned him not to “test her.” (He secretly felt some relief in your loud exchange mere moments ago, because it meant that version of you was still there.) 

“I…I apologize for intruding.” 

Your head whips up to finally meet the man’s piercing blues, your mouth left slightly agape at an actual apology leaving the arrogant Atlantean’s lips.

“Uh…it’s okay...although, try not to do it again.”

Another moment of awkward silence passes.

“So…why’d you come in here?”

You ask this question as you take a seat back on the floor, resuming your position of staring out of the window only this time without your headphones. You pat the spot next to you on the floor, urging Orm to sit next to you. With a small eye roll, the blond begrudgingly joins you on your multi-colored carpet, opting to rest his arms against his knees as means to shield himself from you.

“I came here to apologize, not just for barging in, but for what happened earlier. I shouldn’t have gone through the wardrobe without your permission even if I needed different clothes. I should’ve asked you instead of rifling through your belongings on my own accord.”  

His apology, although rehearsed, seems genuine enough for your shoulders to relax. Your eyes follow the droplets of rain slowly trickling down the glass of your window, racking your brain for the right thing to say. 

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I just…I haven’t revisited the memories that room brings in a long time. You putting on that sweater unearthed them today, and it got me bad. See, I was having a shit day already what with keeping up with the shop, and then an accident causing traffic on the way home, and the wine that I usually like being out of stock-” 

Your rambling gets cut off by a soft chuckle coming from the man next to you, a sound that seems so uncharacteristically happy for his usual demeanor. The corners of your mouth perk up in disbelief, the expression making Orm quickly look away from you. 

“Huh. So that’s what your laugh sounds like. It’s nice…”

Orm didn’t understand why he reacted in such a way, you weren’t saying anything particularly funny…

…It’s just the way your eyes became so animated as you spoke more, your hands gesturing stronger as you explained further - it was amusing to him. So different from the usual company he keeps, always firmly placed brows and crossed arms from the high council members he consulted. Even the Atlantean women, although much more pleasant company, were more regal in comparison to his surface dweller host.  However, what you did have in common with those women was your tenacity. Even with his cold attitude towards you, your kindness was unwavering - a few times a day, without fail, you’d knock on his door with the promise of food and semi-entertaining company. He’s starting to regret only agreeing to the food.

God, he must be going stir crazy.

“What is it about the sweater that made you react in such a way?”

This was when you noticed that Orm was no longer wearing the offending material, choosing to wear the simping cotton T shirt you had given him. It may have been nothing - a simple delusion on your part - but the weight on your chest felt lighter at the idea that the Atlantean took it off to bring you comfort. 

“It - uh,” you stuttered, “it belonged to my ex-boyfriend. All of the stuff in that wardrobe did, actually. We painted the vines on the side of it together…” 

Orm’s arms flexed tighter around his knees at your words. He didn’t know how to respond, feeling significantly awkward due to adorning your ex lover’s clothing, so he decided to just shut up and let you continue.

“When I was 14 my parents got divorced. My mom wanted so badly to make it work, but my dad didn’t like his life here in Amnesty Bay - a part of me felt like he also didn’t like his life with us in general. I mean, he never had a problem making his grievances known, so…” 

Now, this was something the blond was familiar with - uncomfortable family dynamics. The realities of his parents’ marriage were never shielded from him growing up - he often witnessed the brutality of his father whenever his mother, Atlanna, would make her opposing opinions known. He often felt conflicted about which side to take - the one of least resistance that prioritized the well-being of his people or the one that looked out for the well-being of everyone, Atlanteans and surface dwellers alike. Hearing you now, speak your piece on your own upbringing, comforted him in a way he didn’t expect.

“The divorce was messy. Lots of nights spent being pulled in every direction, but with no real place to find peace. After everything settled, my dad ended up moving to New York while my mom remained here. They agreed that for the school year I’d stay with my mom, so she’d have some help at the flower shop, but I’d visit him on major holidays…”

The blanket around you suddenly feels too thin, a chill running over you as you recount your tale. You take a sneaky glance over your shoulder to check if the blond was still listening, and you were surprised (and delighted) to find that his steadfast gaze was at the side of your face. 

“...At some point during my years at university, my mom stopped asking me to visit - demanded that I only live with my dad when I was out of school. You can imagine Arthur had his qualms about that…”

You chuckled to yourself at the memory of a young Arthur blowing up your home phone upon hearing the news. 

“It would only be for the same visiting time as before, so there wasn’t much fuss on my dad’s end, but my relationship with him had become so different after the divorce that it wasn’t ideal. It…It hurt to hear my mom reject me like that.” 

Orm’s mind flashes back to the rain soaked figure of his mother, presenting herself to be siding with his half-brother after his defeat. The sting of her counteraction still lingers in his chest.

“When I had started dating my ex during my third year, I found out the reason my mom was keeping me from home - she got sick…cancer. All of the overworking to pay the bills, lack of support, and the hereditary traits…she got really sick. I guess she didn’t want me to see her in so much pain…” 

Orm watches as you turn away to stubbornly wipe at your face, a sniffle coming from your direction. He hadn’t expected you to willingly speak on your background when he asked about the sweater, but a part of him felt guilty for being the cause of your current distress.

“When she died, I moved back here to look after the house and take over the shop…but my ex had moved in with me. Darren.” 

More tears fell from your cheeks at the same speed as the rain running down your window.

“Darren offered to help me with the business, help me get on my feet. A part of me knew that he was going to hate the life we were starting together based on talks we had about the future, but I ignored it all when my grief became the only thing I felt for a long time. He always wanted more - more than our little town, more than the flower shop…so when an opportunity presented itself to have a life on his own, he took it. Just like my dad did…” 

 Orm’s heart drops at the end of your retelling, knowing the feeling of rejection and abandonment all too well. His father would be rolling in his grave if he knew what feelings this little surface dweller was stirring in him. The gap between the Atlanteans and the humans was closing in his mind, and Orm wasn’t sure if he cared to stop it. All he wanted at this moment was to stop you from crying. 

“I’m sorry for putting on the sweater…and for being an ungracious guest these past few days. I’ve been a real dick.” 

You can’t help but guffaw at his choice of words, using your fist to mask the unsightly sound as a cough. 

“That’s not a very princely thing to say…” 

Orm’s head tilts back as he snickers, feeling slightly proud of himself for inciting a better mood in you.

Ah, that laugh again, you think as you admire how ethereal the man looks in his relaxed state. 

“Perhaps my brother is to blame for my much more…colorful vernacular.” 

“Perhaps,” you hum in agreement, “or you’re just not as much of a dick as I previously thought…sorry for coming on so strong that first day.” 

Orm’s blue eyes shine at you with something unfamiliar - different to the cold, distant stare you were first met with. You find yourself wishing to always be at the receiving end of his kind eyes. 

Orm clears his throat before uttering, “No need to be…I was the one that misjudged you before ever seeing you.” 

A silence falls over you two, a comforting one built between new comrades. Your (e/c) gaze meets his as the storm calms outside of your window, signaling the start of a new chapter for you and your royal roommate. 

[summer-nights19]

Omertá part 1

Romeo Scorpius Lucci x fem reader Prologue

Part 2

Present day

Looking down at the campus map in front of you, you sighed in frustration. You were aware that Darkwick academy was big, but you didn't expect it to be so large to warrant a separate map for each dormitory. Right after taking the entrance exam, you'd been given a uniform with bright red accents and told you were in Sinostra, which was apparently located on a luxury cruise ship. Whatever, you didn't care. You just needed somewhere to be where the Russo family wouldn't be able to find you. Even after you'd moved to Japan to live with a family contact in an attempt to evade their continued pursuit, they'd kept tracking you down, month after month. It had been exhausting, moving up and down the country to keep escaping them. After a few years of living life on the run, you'd finally reached the age to apply for Darkwick academy, the one institution in the country where security was tight enough to keep your pursuers out, and, miraculously, you got in. If anything, you were grateful to that you no longer needed to continuously check over your shoulders for armed men running in your direction.

"Excuse me ? Are you looking for the Sinostra dorm ?" A lilac haired guy with a Sinostra uniform and a professional smile on his face asked you, breaking your train of thought. You looked him up and down. If you recalled correctly, he was the newest ghoul student in Sinostra, Ritsu Shinjo. As you were inspecting him, your eyes fell on a white device in his pocket, causing your instincts to immediately kick into fight or flight mode.

"Are you recording this conversation ? Who the hell are you ?" You didn't want to cause a scene on your first day, but equally, you weren't afraid to escalate the situation if need be.

"Don't be alarmed, Miss L/N. I do this for all my conversations. I'm Ritsu Shinjo, son of the greatest attorney in all of Japan. After graduating from here, I will follow in his footsteps,"

You felt your fists clench and your shoulders grow tense. You didn't like this one bit.

"How do you know my name ? I recommend you talk, and fast,"

Ritsu looked completely unfazed.

"I make it my business as an attorney to do an in depth background check on all the individuals I will need to work with. Y/N L/N, born in Naples to the L/N crime family. You lived in there until 2 and a half years ago, when your family collapsed due to an unexpected attack from another family, resulting in a complete takeover of both your business and your territory. You moved to Japan to escape the pursuit of your rivals, who are still trying to eradicate any remaining member-"

On impulse, you wrapped your hand around the gun tucked snugly in the waistband of your skirt. Your family had been relatively high profile, so that information was technically publicly available if one was willing to do some digging. However, you'd never imagined that someone in Japan would even think to investigate your family history.

"And just what do you plan on doing with all your knowledge ?"

You kept your voice calm, though there was an edge to it now, warning Ritsu not to cross you. However, he seemed completely undeterred.

"For now ? Nothing. I was thinking more that we could have a relationship of mutual benefit. You see, I was pretty irritated that I got put into this house, but I might as well make the most of it now, and I think you could help me,"

As Ritsu looked at you expectantly, you tried not to roll your eyes. You didn't have time or patience for schoolboy games or house competitions.

"What's in it for me ?"

"I trust someone from your background knows how useful it is to have an attorney as a friend ? I'm sure that I don't need to remind you that you are still technically on the run,"

Hand still hovering on your gun, you contemplated his offer. It was true that having a high profile attorney or two in your pocket could always be advantageous, but you still had no clue about whether you could actually trust the guy. Relaxing your body, you allowed your hand to fall back to your side.

"I'll consider it. For now, please just show me where the Sinostra dormitory is,"

Ritsu smiled pleasantly and turned on his heels, beckoning for you to follow. He didn't pester you any further, perhaps because he'd realised that you wouldn't be giving him anything rlse until he'd proved you could trust him. After around ten minutes of walking around twisting pathways and alleys, you reached an enormous cruise ship, its lights casting a bright glow on everything around it. Ritsu turned to face you.

"I'll be going to meet our captain now, and I'd recommend you do the same,"

As your eyes lingered on the ship, you let yourself consider the idea. You still had no idea if you could trust this guy, but meeting the captain sounded innocent enough. It wasn't like you had anything better to do.

Taking your silence as a yes, Ritsu led you through the entrance and into what appeared to be a large casino. You winced, the sight of poker tables and slot machines bringing back memories you'd long suppressed.

"Isn't this a university dormitory ? Why is there a massive casino here ?" You raised your voice so Ritsu could hear you over the excited chatter of the patrons.

"Apparently, most houses have a unique source of income, and this is Sinostra's. I'm sure you'll be familiar with how it works, given your background,"

You felt your eye twitch, but you knew Ritsu wasn't wrong. Having an income that was tied to something you already knew like the back of your hand could definitely have benefits, regardless of the fact you despised everything about casinos. Ritsu cleared his throat and approached a nearby student, breaking you out of your train of thought.

"Excuse me. Can you tell me where we can find the captain ? We're both new, so we wanted to meet him. His name is Taiga Hoshibami, right ?"

The student looked down at Ritsu, his face twisted on a scowl.

"He's not here,"

"Oh ? What about the vice captain, then ? Romeo Lucci, was it ?"

You felt your eyes widen a little at the name. Romeo Lucci... you'd heard the name before somewhere. Your father had had a business partner with that surname many years ago, who had also been the owner of a world leading fashion brand before his own family collapsed. Nowadays, his logo was still around, but it only had a fraction of its former prestige.

You focused harder, trying to match the name to one of the many faces you'd seen in your childhood. After a moment of frustration, violet eyes and dark hair suddenly flashed in your mind.

Romeo Lucci was his son. You'd only seen him a few times when you were both really young, but you were certain of it now.

"Y/N ? We can go meet the vice captain now," Ritsu's voice brought you back to reality, interrupting your thoughts. The satisfied smile on his face looked almost comical next to the other guy's scowl.

"Follow me. Fico should be able to meet you now,"

As you followed the two guys down a winding corridor, you wondered whether you'd misheard. Surely Romeo didn't make his subordinates call him "fico". After a couple of minutes, you reached an imposing door with a couple of Sinostra students positioned on either side of it. After giving a nod to the guy closest to the door, the newest addition to your party knocked and cleared his throat.

"Fico ? A couple of first years say they have business with you. Our house's new ghoul student Ritsu Shinjo and some girl called Y/N L/N -"

A deep voice cut him off before he could finish explaining. The owner had a Neapolitan accent, a bit like your own but less strong.

"L/N, did you say ?"

Your impromptu guide looked confused.

"Yes, Sir,"

"Bring her in. I want the rest of you to leave immediately,"

Seeing that Ritsu was about to object, Romeo's goons pulled guns and crowded around him. As he took a startled step back, one of them took you by the arm and shoved you through the door of the office.

Just as you were steadying your legs, you looked up to see a dull metal barrel pointed at your forehead.

"Don't take another step unless you want it to be your last,"

Masterlist

[iridiss]

It’s time for part 2 of my in-depth character analysis of Garmau, Laurmau, and Garrance relationship dynamics and development!! Part one is here, and this is a very very long post, just like last time. I am going to go until I hit the image limit of a single tumblr post. With no time to waste, let’s jump straight back into it!

Something that occurred to me after I posted the first part was an idea about Garroth’s decision to create the rule of “any guard that turns into a shadow knight is forced by honor to take his own life the moment he returns from the Nether,” and it’s that I think he did that not out of a lapse of brief, cold heartlessness for Laurance, but out of love. Love for Aphmau, obviously, mainly, but I don’t think Garroth himself thought of something like that as…harsh. I think he genuinely held this shared understanding with Laurance, this assumption of their mutual bond as knights, that he believed he knew Laurance is perfectly well aware of the way this shit goes, this job they’ve pledged their lives to. Laurance’s life is to protect his Lord above all else, Garroth’s life is to protect Aphmau’s at any cost. So of course, if you as a knight have become something so monstrous and bloodthirsty that you are an imminent danger to your own Lord’s life… you either resign, or die. And if someone else was trying to murder their Lord, I imagine the natural thing to do would be to kill that person, so if you eliminate the threat… you save your Lord’s life. Laurance did something incredibly noble by sacrificing himself for Aphmau. That was, effectively, his life’s entire purpose. There’s a sense of being… disposable, as a guard. One that Zenix himself even pointed out and criticized, I believe.

Guards are made to be expendable. It’s the nature of the business. Laurance’s purpose was to give his life to Aphmau. Laurance’s purpose in life was to be expendable. Garroth isn’t purposefully trying to abandon him while he’s being tortured and horrifically broken down to pieces, Garroth highly values the role of a guard and therefore highly values Laurance’s sacrifice, because it is the epitome of the most important thing any guard can ever do in their life. So of course he’s going to make sure Laurance honors that choice. In that way, it’s something twisted and rotten and wrong that a guard would then come back from the dead, especially as an undead threat designed only to kill the very Lord he’s made to protect. To become a Shadow Knight is to become a total inversion of what it means to be a Guard. If any part of the original Laurance still remained inside his heart after his transformation, it only makes sense that his only option remaining would be to take his own life, to sacrifice himself once again to ensure his Lord is safe, it’s not even a matter of how “dark” or “horrific” this may be—it’s just business. And Garroth sees it as that, Garroth sees this as not only incredibly necessary, but as the utmost thing he can do to honor Laurance’s life. He probably thinks Laurance would be relieved to hear about the new rule he’s made, because he trusts he would understand this principle as much as he does. He isn’t casting him out—he’s tenderly taking the last remaining piece of Laurance’s humanity into his hands and sending it back to him like the boat of a funeral pyre. He’s laying him down to rest with a kiss on the head, telling him not to worry anymore. He’s making sure Laurance doesn’t destroy himself in the worst conceivable way possible. He’s trying to save him.

He’s protecting the love of his life, yes, but… he’s protecting Laurance from himself, too. And what relief would it be, to come back in a horrifying bind he struggles to grapple with, struggle to know what to do with or which direction to choose, the old truths or his new instincts as an undead creature—and to realize that he doesn’t need to worry about any of it at all. Because Garroth is there, to build in the safety railing. To create the mattress that cushions his fall. This is the most loving thing Garroth could do for Laurance, in a dilemma like this. To remove the dilemma entirely, and take care of it, take care of his life, take care of their purpose and their Lord, for him. To them, this isn’t something horrific—this is intimate.

Garroth would kill him, if Laurance asked him to. Because Garroth understands what must be done. Because he (believes he) knows what Laurance would want, if he were human again. Where guards like Zenix rebuke their expendability and demand independence and worth of their own, Garroth upholds it as something reverent, something special, something important, something morally good and right and correct that Laurance should adhere to. I wonder how that lesson went, during mentor-and-apprentice training sessions lmao.

…it is still horrifying and fucked up to witness on the outside, though. And Aphmau, who is not a guard, she wasn’t taught any of this. She didn’t have this ingrained in her through years of bootcamp. From her perspective, this is a “WHAT THE FUCK NO!!!! DONT KILL HIM!!! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO HIM??” moment, because if Laurance has been hurt and is currently in a dire and horrible situation, then naturally the good and kind and right thing to do would be to fucking rescue him. Even if he isn’t human anymore, it doesn’t matter what he is now or how he’s changed, he’s their friend and any good and caring friend would save him. Thats what it means to give a shit about him, to rescue him from his perilous situation and bring him home so they can tend to his wounds and take good care of him. She doesn’t think of him as “his purpose as a soldier,” she thinks of him as a goddamn person who deserves better. There’s a very staunch difference in what Garroth and Aphmau believe to be the definition of highest moral good, what it means to be kind (Lawful vs Neutral moment let’s go), and they clash over this. But in the end, she also knows Garroth as a source of wisdom and rational, responsible knowledge in her life, and he is her bodyguard. He knows best about keeping her safe. She knows, rationally speaking, that there’s a danger to letting an undead monster into her home, it’s like she’s trying to bring a bear into the house just because it’s wounded and she wants to help it, and Garroth is saying to her, “no, don’t fucking do that, it’s our house and that thing will KILL YOU” and she’s conflicted on whether or not she should listen to him. She does for a while, though she consistently keeps trying to bring it up and convince him otherwise. Maybe if they were given enough time before Laurance’s return, she would have reached a point where she said “fuck it” to Garroth’s ideals and gone off on her own to bring Laurance back herself, without Garroth.

That being said, no matter what his beliefs are, its still really fucked up and wrong to try to pressure someone actually kill themself, and Garroth should never be doing that to anyone no matter the reason. Especially if that person is very depressed and in need of help. There are better ways to handle the dangers of effectively having a werewolf/vampire in the house. He should have at least tried to search for alternative means to help Laurance or handle his transformation into a Shadow Knight, and I’m very glad and relieved that continuity-wise, Garroth forgot his own fucking rule once Laurance actually returned. I’m glad we left that as a forgotten part in canon history. It’s fascinating to me how Garroth’s own system of morals justifies this behavior so staunchly in his mind, and it reveals to me more of the inner workings of how he works internally as a Lawful-aligned character, and honestly it’s pretty cool that two of our main characters have such different methods of thinking of morality and the greater good and believing in it wholeheartedly, but oh my god man please never do that again. what a way to reunite with a friend, my god

Anyway, we’ve now reached episode 56, and this is where shit gets real.

So the plan to pretend to be Garroth’s girlfriend didn’t work out so hot. Aphmau keeps having this bad habit of almost getting arrested lmao, this is the second time in S1 where Garroth and Laurance have to step in to save her from getting arrested. It’s also our second ever solid Aphmau/Garroth/Laurance interaction as a trio, to see how they clash and mold and mix with each other once they’re all together as a unit.

I’d like to point out, Garroth is willing to cut his brother to pieces if it means protecting Aphmau. MCD!Garroth doesn’t have anywhere near as much affection for his little brother as he does in Mystreet, in Mystreet he’s much more doting and loving, while in MCD he seems to regard Zane with this disgust, fear, and disdain. He says he’s uncomfortable being in the same village as him, says Zane has always displayed “disgusting” personality traits since long before his father’s corruption, and generally regards him with disgust, contempt, anxiety, discomfort, and terror. Not to say that that’s the only thing MCD!Garroth feels about Zane, but it’s definitely there at the forefront. So I suppose it’s not terribly surprising that if Zane merely talked shit about Aphmau, let alone threatened her very life, he would be a hair away from murdering him in favor of defending his Lord lol. But still, I find it interesting. His family has most certainly moved elsewhere. Zane isn’t his family, not as much as Aphmau and Levin (COUGH and Zoey COUGH) are.

And then Laurance pulls this.

This is so impactful of a shock to Garroth that we even get a dramatic angle shot of him, with all the limited “film equipment” they had at the time. You just know Jess had to break a block right in front of the NPC and get into this one-block-hole so she could get the right angle looking up at him lmao, and then probably had to fill that hole and move back to her spot to continue filming. Maybe she even went into creative mode for it. Teasing lmao

Anyway, I do think this was a smart move on Laurance’s part. He recognizes The High Priest of O’khasis through the commands and speech of the guard and Zane himself, probably realizes “oh shit, HE’S here? Oh fuck, this is really bad,” and keep in mind he has NO CONTEXT for what’s going on!! No one has told him a damn thing about Zane being here, or the fake relationship between Garroth and Aphmau, he has no idea what they’re all talking about, he just knows that O’khasis means really bad news and if he doesn’t act fast, Aphmau will be in some serious trouble, and he may never see her again. And unless he and Garroth had some sort of intimate off-screen conversation before this, this would also be how Laurance finds out in the moment that Garroth is the brother to Prince and High Priest of O’khasis, Zane Ro’meave—and therefore, Garroth is a Prince. Instead of reeling over these realizations and losing his shit, his clever mind comes up with a plan on the spot and starts twisting the fuck out of Zane’s arm to make him leave.

He listens to what Zane is saying, and Zane says that Aphmau was implying that Garroth might have a woman in his life, and Zane assumed that she was talking about herself, but doesn’t have any proof more than speculation, and is using said speculation as grounds for an arrest. Laurance hears this, understands that they don’t actually know if Aphmau is dating anyone, so Laurance calculates taking advantage of that confusion and swoops in with a claim that completely destroys Zane’s entire argument. Aphmau can’t be guilty of espionage, if she’s actually dating Laurance instead, so he pounces.

I don’t think he did this to get some sort of cheap win of “ooooh look at me I got the girl, lemme rub it in Garroth’s face while we’re here, ooh look I’m forcing her to be my fiance all of a sudden without even asking for her consent,” he actually feels really bad for suddenly jumping this on them and likely wishes he could have at least discussed it with them beforehand, but again, no one explained a damn thing to him, and they wouldn’t have expected this to happen anyway. There was no possible preparation for this beforehand, and frankly, he needed the others to believe him too, in order to convince Zane he was telling the truth.

He doubles down hard, acting with complete confidence and cold, determined certainty.

Clever and sly as a fox, he starts blackmailing Zane immediately. Picking apart his arguments to peel back the veneer that Zane’s crafted for himself and reveal the sheer extent of his lies and his own acts of treason underneath, and he uses that to scare Zane into shutting the fuck up. Laurance sees Zane for who he truly is, in the same way Zane sees Laurance for the Shadow Knight he really is. He’s not afraid to call him out on it, saying “hey, you think you have grounds to arrest her? You should remember I have grounds to tear your life apart, you son of a bitch.” And when Zane threatens to destroy Laurance’s life in turn, he says that’s fine, because if it means protecting Aphmau, he has nothing left to lose. He is a Shadow Knight, after all, he’s pretty much lost everything he could’ve held onto before. He lives under a ticking timebomb. There’s nothing Zane can take away from him that he won’t inevitably lose, once his time is up. If Zane wants to destroy him, he’ll fuckin take him down with him.

I love Zane calling him, “you of all people.” They don’t have any history together, he doesn’t know who Laurance is. So I think when he says “you of all people,” he’s referring to Laurance’s identity as a Shadow Knight. Zane may have dirtied his hands with his own demonic magical dealings, but he’s still a High Priest. This is a holy man, and the highest holy man of Ru’auns biggest empire. It’d make sense that he’d look down on Laurance as a Shadow Knight, seeing him as a form of lesser vermin under his superior shoe. Laurance is a demonic creature, and Zane is a holy priest. There’s a hierarchy, a superiority, there between them. I love this moment as Laurance revealing his hand as a demonic creature, meeting this holy man and seeing him for the sinful, filthy beast he really is, and reflecting it back for all to see. He knows what Zane is, he knows all about people like him. “I know a fellow sinner when I see it,” he says to him, “You can’t escape me that easily. You think you’re better than me? I’ll show the world exactly how holy you really are.” It’s the first thing Laurance does as a Shadow Knight, imo. The priest meets his match against the demon who can smell his sins a mile away.

Anyway. Laurance lied when he said he was Aphmau’s fiance, but he was telling the truth when he called her the love of his life, the only light in the dark, the one person he would sacrifice his entire life and well-being for time and time again. In a way, he’s offering up his own neck for the chopping block a second time here. He may be horrifically traumatized by what came of it afterwards, but one thing he’ll never regret is giving up his life for Aphmau, and here he’s insisting he can and WILL do it again and again if it meant keeping her safe. He just got back, and he’s already shoving her out of the way of the bullet and taking the glare of Zane’s rage for himself, putting himself under the blade and offering himself up for the feasting. “Here, you want a bite?” He challenges, “Take one from me. I have nothing left to lose. There’s nothing left for me. I’m expendable, remember? I’m the disposable one. If you want someone to destroy, choose me.”

Boy needs therapy.

He really does love her, though. It seems there was some level of genuine affection that he developed for her in the time where they were barely more than strangers, trying to flirt with some strange maiden he found and getting vehemently rejected at every turn. I don’t know why he would, but it seems it was enough to let his love for her multiply tenfold since his sacrifice.

In his confession earlier, he says he clung to the thought of her as his only solace keeping him sane through his transformation. In doing so, he formed this feeling of dependence upon her that forged as strong as a dog’s love for their master. She has become his definition of comfort.

Zane does a really mean thing by asking Garroth, of all people, if they have his “permission” to get married. (…not that they would ever in a million years need his permission to get married… considering he’s not their dad or a family member or anything, he’s just their friend,,, his opinion would mean nothing and changes nothing… but Zane’s specifically trying to be a jerk here, so)

And Garroth says yes. It takes him a long time to force it out of his lips, though. And I’m wondering if maybe this is purely a moment of circumstance, where he can recognize that Laurance is specifically saving Aphmau’s life in this situation, and if he says no, he fucks everything up. The reason why I feel like he’s forcing himself to say yes due to the circumstance, and not being 100% genuine here, is because in later instances, Garroth does NNNOOOOT take kindly to Aphmau hooking up with other people. Like with his betrayal in the S1 finale, he takes Aphmau kissing Laurance soooo incredibly personally and very very badly. And again later on, when Aphmau tells him she’s pregnant with Aaron’s child, he doesn’t take THAT well EITHER. Garroth, to me, feels like someone who believes Aphmau should be his and his alone, and when someone else interferes with that, holy fucking hell does he have a PROBLEM with it. He doesn’t exactly strike me as the kind of guy who likes to share, I suppose. He’s always been a much more territorial soul than say, Laurance, and especially more so than Aaron. So to me, I see this and I think he is using every single nerve and bone in his body to restrain himself from losing his cool. He is doing everything in his power not to scream or cry or start shouting right now lmao.

He recognizes Laurance is currently trying to save Aphmau’s life, which, again from before, is something that means a lot to Garroth and something he really really admires in Laurance. (it’s kind of the only thing he admires about laurance, actually… at this point in S1, at least.) So there’s this conflict between bringing out and exemplifying the thing he admires most in Laurance and knows he’s very trustworthy and honorable with, but also like. that’s the girl he likes, so he’s upset she’s.. dating someone else or whatever. To be honest, he probably does suspect that Laurance is lying. Because when Laurance dropped the act and admits he’s lying and apologizes, Garroth doesn’t show ANY surprise over it. He says it’s okay, he knows he was just trying to save her life.

He knows they’re not actually getting married. He’s just that upset to even witness or hear anything suggesting the hypothetical that they would. It really does distress him quite a bit. (which will become a problem later……)

This is the beginning of their rivalry/competition over Aphmau, though.

And with the beginning of the actual competition, I’d like to set a disclaimer: I’m a very polyamorous/open person. I do not take the “ship war” bullshit seriously lmao. If you asked me which “side” I’m on, I would say I’m on Aphmau’s side, honestly. The girl is her own individual human being and a person who deserves to have a right to her own autonomy and personal choice, and it is both hilarious and deeply concerning to me that Garroth and Laurance think they have any control or say over who Aphmau chooses to kiss and sleep with. Especially since she’s still single and not actually dating either of them, so she has NO REASON to be “committed” to either of them. Garroth and Laurance are like investors crying over a bidding war for a plot of land, and I do not take their “””heartbreak””” seriously. It is quite literally the definition of a manchild crying over spilled milk to me. Aphmau is her own person whose free will deserves to be respected, not a piece of territory that they can claim ownership of or dictate the decisions of. Garroth and Laurance have literally zero right to get angry or upset with her for romantically choosing someone else, and to do so is not only very dehumanizing/objectifying towards Aphmau, but also just…generally extremely emotionally immature. The correct reaction they both should have had is to congratulate her, say they’re happy for her and her happiness, wish her well, and then just…continue going about their day. And if they did cry about it later, they cry about it very far away from Aphmau and her happy new life and continue to treat her respectfully, appropriately, and professionally the next time they see her. Buuut I also understand that respectful and emotionally mature behavior doesn’t always breed the best drama for a plot, and we are dealing with the Aphverse and its number one favorite kind of drama to write, so it is what it is.

So know that when I assess the ship war as, unfortunately, a pivotal core of the majority of Garmau and Laurmau interactions across the Aphverse, know that im coming from an impartial place who does not favor any side any way. When Aaron gets introduced, this will also apply to him, and I’ll be analyzing his character and Aarmau’s relationship with equal levels of care and respect and fairness (especially since I honestly kinda like Aaron as a character… he’s a really chill and cool guy, once you look past any “cringe factor” of him being a mega buff self-insert character whose the Ultimate Alpha Werewolf and Super Sexy lolol, or any lapse in the writers own personal judgment in regards to whether or not it’s appropriate for a freshman to date a senior ((it’s really really not)). But I’m not here for the writers own lapses and judgments, im here for the character. And I like Aaron Lycan the character, so I wanna give him a fair chance) I like all of them, and I love this series, so I’m not gonna like…favor any side in particular, and if anything, I’m against the competition itself as a whole and im not gonna be afraid to call Garroth and Laurance out on the moments where they’re being total assholes about it. Aphmau deserved better lmao. I’m glad that in Mystreet she got married to the only character in the entire cast who doesn’t actually give a shit about any of this lol, she deserves better than to worry about territorialism bullshit

I do like that their rivalry isn’t really a hostile one, though. Garroth and Laurance don’t make enemies out of each other despite the situation, they actually find a really close bond in each other through it all. They’re not perfect, but they’re kind to each other, and I like that approach. It’s different from a lot of other “love competition” plots I’ve seen, where the men are locked in an embarrassing, perpetual toxic-masculinity-ragefest pissing-on-each-other contest lolol. It cuts in half the potentially debilitating level of second-hand embarrassment I’d get just by watching them, and personally I feel like it’d make more sense for two knights to be chivalrous with one another and honor one another than anything else. So if this is the first note we’re introducing their rivalry on, it’s a wonderful one, and I love this scene as a whole. They can be very adorable sometimes.

Laurance immediately apologizes once Zane leaves them be, like a sweetheart he feels horrible for doing something like that to them so suddenly <3

I love Garroth treating him civilly, he recognizes the situation for what it is, and though I imagine he got quite the upsetting scare that he’s still feeling shaken up by, it’s overpowered by Garroth’s own immense admiration for Laurance’s actions as an honorable knight. He knows he can trust him with Aphmau’s life, he knows that Laurance will take good care of his loved ones and do anything he can to make sure that they’re okay. That’s a big deal, especially since Laurance’s loyalties as a guard would technically belong to Meteli, as its Head Guard. But Laurance’s care and good heart doesn’t apply only to the people under Meteli’s jurisdiction—the people he’s required to guard as part of his job. Phoenix Drop isn’t his business, he would have reason to leave and go back home and not give a shit about Aphmau and her troubles, but he doesn’t. His principles and his heart apply to anyone in need, no matter who they are or where they’re from or who they serve. That’s a true honorable man/knight, someone who does it not just for a job, but because it’s in his nature to tend to everyone in need, no matter what. He’ll always look after you, whether you’re a child of O’khasis or the Lord of Meteli, his heart knows no boundaries. And Garroth sees this in him, sees this on full display that night when he stepped in to save Aphmau—and it’s incredibly important to recognize who he’s standing up to. He’s not only willing to go to blows with a Goddamn Prince Of Motherfucking O’khasis, seeing him for his corruption and not being afraid to defend underdogs in need, even standing up to other fellow guards who chose their greed and pride over doing good by serving Zane (contrasting Laurance’s choices), but he’s willing to confront Zane Ro’meave, Garroth’s brother. He is, unintentionally, in a way, defending Garroth as well, from his abusive family members. Zane is hellbent on hurting Garroth by taking Aphmau away (thus ensuring Garroth would come with him and return to O’khasis), and Laurance stops that shit from happening.

It’s unspoken, but in this scene, he’s protecting Garroth as much as he’s protecting Aphmau. He just saved both of their asses. And I feel like that would mean a lot to Garroth, to see Laurance stand up to his terrifying, overpowered family in order to protect Garroth and his loved ones, putting his own neck on the line despite the massive risk, despite how much power and money he could gain if he followed in the other, corrupt guards’ footsteps and chose to defend Zane instead. It must feel incredibly cathartic and even emotional for Garroth, to see someone defend him from his family with all the strength and bravery and balls he doesn’t have to stand up to Zane himself—and also have the incredible wits enough to make it work!!! This is an incredible and miraculous feat Laurance has just pulled off here!!! He outsmarted Zane Ro’meave!!! Made the High Priest of O’khasis run for the hills with his tail between his legs!! Laurance would, without question, stand up to your bullies and defend the underdog no matter what, and he would WIN <3

Ironically enough, if there’s any moment where Garroth would decide that Laurance is a keeper, I think this scene would make a pretty damn good contender.

Which I think is why Garroth doesn’t get angry with him for this. He’s not happy at all that Laurance would claim to be Aphmau’s fiancé, even if he knew for certain that he was blowing smoke, but everything else about this scenario overpowers that anger/upset, so he chooses to be civil and gracious instead. He‘s feeling the brunt of a bruised heart and ego, yes, but he also came out of this with the knowledge that he could most certainly trust Laurance with both his and Aphmau’s lives.

Which would probably throw some conflicted feelings into the mix of the whole “Laurance is a shadow knight designed to murder the mother of my son” thing lmao.

Also I love to picture Garroth looking like he’s on the edge of tears here, and Laurance internally thinking to himself throughout the entire confrontation “shit fuck damn it Garroth im so sorry im so sorry DONT BELIEVE ME YOU DUMBASS IM SO SORRY MAN AAAUUUUGH” and then apologizing to him so earnestly once Zane left, trying to console him because he knows what a dick move doing that to his crush in front of him would be and he feels SO BAD. And meanwhile Garroth sniffles and says “it’s okay, really, it’s fine… you saved her life, I can’t thank you enough…” and Laurance gives him a hug

Garroth wanting to hurt, maim, or potentially even kill his own brother because he threatened and insulted Aphmau. Wanting him to just disappear, to go away, to get rid of him or scare him off somehow. Their relationship is significantly worse in MCD than it is in Mystreet.

chat I love them so much <3 Laurance flirting with Aphmau purely just to taunt her and be a teasing little shit, Garroth laughing along and teasing Aphmau alongside him, so Aphmau turns the tables to tease Laurance by saying she’s gonna make Cadenza dye his hair blue next time, and Garroth backing her up by saying it already is blue. There’s a beat between Laurance’s “WHAT?!” And “YOU GUYS ARE JERKS!” So I can’t help but imagine he uses that beat to reflexively take his hair and try to check what color it is, only to realize he can’t fuckin’ see and that’s why they’re saying it’s blue to tease him back, and then he calls them jerks for it lmao. Garroth and Aphmau laugh, and then Aphmau drags them both back to the party to dance and have fun together as a trio for the rest of the night.

GUYS THEY’RE BESTIES NOW!!! THEY’RE BESTIES TOGETHER!! THE THREE MUSKETEERS!! Laurmau, Garrance, and Garmau work really well as individual pairs, but when they’re together as a trio is when they start to really shine and boost each other up in their happiness. I love the teasing and mischief and chaos that naturally blooms between the three of them when they feel comfortable and relaxed with each other, it heavily contrasts the strict, sterile professionalism they normally have to keep up for the sake of their jobs and their safety and gives them this real sense of…being human, together. In those moments, they’re not “knights doing their job” or a lord trying to maintain order, they’re dumb young adults playing and fucking around and enjoying the time they have together—especially in a world where time is, often, cut short. No wars, no politics, not even much about their inner competition. Just them, as they truly act when they’re at their happiest and most comfortable, embracing the time they have together. A family.

Garroth cuts loose his usual shy, strict, closed off exterior and goofs off, something that’d normally be very rare if not at all possible to witness with the man, if it wasn’t for Aphmau and Laurance bringing out his more snarky, playful side. Laurance continues to be a flirtatious tease, but this time it’s not because he wants something out of Aphmau, it’s because he’s being a dork who’s trying to be funny and stupid and silly to make her or Garroth laugh. He’s taunting her. It’s much more light-hearted and genuine and sincere than the “fuckboy” style flirting he was keeping up earlier, and I think that’s why it works better with Aphmau. Because it’s coming from an entirely different place. It’s not spoken with the intent of “I wanna get something out of you ;)” (which makes her uncomfortable) it’s spoken with the intent of two best friends taunting and teasing each other back and forth in order to have fun and be little shits to each other and ultimately make the other laugh. And that, Aphmau most CERTAINLY can get behind.

Something I like to notice in MCD!Aphmau is that all Aphmaus, in every universe, have a very core personality trait of “playful.” They’re mischievous, they’re chaotic, they cause trouble, they tease others, they love puns, they’re always the first to start laughing and the loudest to laugh. But most Aphmaus have some sort of variation in the specifics of how that playful core nature manifests. Like, Void Paradox Aphmau might veer a little more likely to literally set herself on fire if she thinks her hypothesis will work, but Mystreet!Aphmau has a liiiittle bit of a stronger fear of death lmao. MCD!Aphmau is the least playful out of all the Aphmaus, due to circumstance. When you’re in the middle of a war and spending every day slaving away at your unrelenting job trying to make sure everyone you love and care for doesn’t get literally fucking murdered in the next week, and if they do it’s your fault as a leader—you kinda end up not having as bright and bubbly of a spirit on main anymore! MCD!Aphmau is also one of the oldest Aphmaus in terms of meta, real-world time. MCD came before Mystreet and its more light-hearted tone, and it came well before the extreme tone shift of Cocomau/Aphmau SMP content. The difference between the original Diaries Aphmau and Cocomau Aphmau is very night and day.

MCD!Aphmau is the most emotionally mature. She’s more serious, more stern, more cautious, more depressed and anxious and traumatized and stressed out, she’s more jaded, she forms trust issues that struggle against her constant desire to be forgiving, she’s a military leader, she’s constantly locked in violent combat where she fights for her life on the regular against a myriad of foes constantly trying to kill her, she creates battle plans and military strategies and political tactics and allegiances with other nations. One of the things war forces its newest soldiers to do is to grow up. And as MCD progresses, you can see the gradually increasing toll it takes on her. S2 Aphmau carries herself with a much more emotionally scarred and stressed out demeanor than she did at the beginning of S1, and by S3, she’s seen the love of her life die. She’s lost too much to be…bubbly, silly, air-headed, clumsy Aphmau anymore.

So to have someone in her life that can bring out the more innocent heart buried deep inside her… It’s fucking beautiful. To remind her of who she used to be, to put a smile on her face in a time of dire trauma and depression, to make her laugh and stop worrying about the world for just a moment… To bring back to the surface the kind of Aphmau we see in Mystreet, and make her feel free… She needs her boys. She really, really does. She depends on them more than they depend on her. Her boys are her soft place to land, her grounding comfort, who make her feel human again and keep her from losing herself in it all. They keep her afloat. Especially Laurance, whose number one gift is laughter. He may be clever, or brave, or resilient, or doggedly loyal, but by far, Laurance’s greatest strength and greatest asset is his ability to bring laughter. Joy and whimsy and innocence and love that comforts above all else. For someone who struggles so much to find his own sense of humanity, he sure is good at bringing out everyone else’s humanity. I’d kill to have someone like that be by my side during my darkest hour.

Their happy, carefree moments are so rare in this series. It’s always a treasure to find them.

They’ve grown a bond now, but it’s not easy knowing that Laurance is still a monster of the undead. Garroth feels conflicted now, when previously he was utterly resolved in his determination to make sure Laurance, as a Shadow Knight, stayed away from Aphmau and their town, now he knows and likes and admires Laurance as a person. Now he doesn’t know what to do. He’s terrified of the possibility that Laurance could turn at any moment and attack them, he’s much more scared of it than Aphmau is. He trusts Laurance the person with their lives, but Laurance the Shadow Knight…

Meanwhile, Aphmau does not give a shit lmao. Garroth confides in her that he’s scared Laurance might actually kill her, and Aphmau’s like “lmao is this because ur jealous he got to flirt with me last night and u didn’t” and teases him for it. Girl is NOT worried at ALL. (even though it’s her life on the line…) It’s almost like it doesn’t fully click in her mind that this man, one of her closest allies, the man she plays and jokes around with so easily even now, he will be the one to draw her blood. She’s playing with the wolves, as their number one prey, with the number one predator chosen to devour her and her specifically, with the carnivorous beast that craves nothing but her and her blood, his only desire for the feasting, and she just…has no fear. Not really, not deeply, not truly. Not like Garroth does. Maybe as the cat curling up on the crocodile tongue, it still exists in her mind the possibility that those jaws could snap down on her at any time. But she knows Laurance, she trusts Laurance, she knows he won’t. He holds her life in his hands, and she trusts him so much to feel completely comfortable with how he holds her. His jaws could hold themselves over her throat, and she wouldn’t begin to sweat. She still holds on tight to him. She’s the one who feels in control, despite all the odds. She knows he’s not going to hurt her, not like this. She knows he’s tamed. So of course she teases Garroth, taunts him for his concerns.

(aphmau likes her boys to be a lil,,, a little monstrous <3 …… a lil bit deadly, a little bit inhuman…… lil bit a fangs, little bit a claws… monsterfucker aphmau real…… ily monsterfucker aphmau……)

Laurance is currently reveling in the joy and relief of being out of the Nether, recovering his sight, he’s starting to get his old self back. So he plays along with their banter, laughing and having the time of his life. He doesn’t feel like much of a Shadow Knight right now. But he does take Garroth’s concerns seriously, seriously enough to offer to leave Phoenix Drop completely if he starts to really scare them. The weight of this offers kinda glossed over in canon, but like…I want to bring your attention to how heartbreaking that’d be. Aphmau is his number one comfort person, the love of his life, the light in his darkness, the woman that makes him feel human, the close friend that brings out his truest self and holds him dear. He’s offering to give all of that up, everything that makes him happy, everything that makes him feel human, if they would feel safer and more comfortable living without him in their lives. I can only imagine how quickly he would make a dramatic turn for the worst if he did actually leave Phoenix Drop like this, how fast he would deteriorate, the deep depression he would be allowing himself to slip into, all to make them happy. He would give up everything, if it meant they would be happier without him. Guys I want to cry.

AND HE SAYS “It’s just nice to have a place to call home.” GUYS!!!!!!! AAAUAUAUAUUUGUGUGHG HH!!!!!!!!!!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS ?!?????? He has Meteli, doesn’t he? If he still considered Meteli a home he could return to, why the fuck would he talk like he DOESNT HAVE ANYWHERE ELSE TO GO ANYMORE—!!-!!!!!!!

Joh was murdered by Sasha, a Shadow Knight. Hayden and Cadenza were both kidnapped by a Shadow Knight. He has, quite literally, become the very same thing that has broken and traumatized his family the most. He resigned as the Head Guard of Meteli after his return from the Nether. It would make a whole lot of sense if Laurance chose to withdraw himself from Meteli, his hometown, and his only-surviving father, in an effort to protect them. Do you think Hayden even knows? Do you think Hayden was told that his son figure was lost to the Nether? Do you think anyone told him? I don’t think Cadenza or Hayden know that he’s a Shadow Knight now—the very thing that murdered his other dad. Do you think Laurance chose to leave his home behind, in an effort to conceal the horrible truth and protect them too? Do you think he resigned as the Head Guard of Meteli because he doesn’t trust himself to protect Hayden, because if he was already incapable of protecting Joh before, how bad do you think it’d be now that he’s the same breed as his killer? Do you think he believes he wouldn’t be fit to be the Head Guard of a town already so traumatized and scarred by Shadow Knights in its past? That he doesn’t belong there anymore? How traumatic would that be for him? To become his own worst nightmare? To let go of his own hometown, to let go of his family in a way, to keep the truth from them, because he knows how they would react if they found out what he had become? Do you think he believes they wouldn’t trust him anymore? Wouldn’t think so highly of him anymore? Do you think he thinks of telling Cadenza the truth, sometimes? How she would react, if she knew?

He doesn’t consider Meteli a home he can return to anymore. Phoenix Drop is the only place he can stay, with the only two people who know the truth and are still willing to keep him around. So if he left PD, he would become a homeless wanderer, with nowhere to stay, no one to trust, nowhere to go. He really wouldn’t have anything left. So Laurance does everything he can now to help out around the village and help Garroth with his work, likely to prove that he’s worth keeping around and to make up for any loss that his new identity may cause. Aaaoouguhhuhhhhhghhh gguhhuhhhhhgggggggggggg

ALSO!!! LAURANCE IS PLAYING WITH HER SON!!! LAURDAD!!! LAURDAD!!!!!! EVERYONE TURN ON THE ALARM BELLS, WE HAVE DAD LAURANCE BEING ADORABLE!!!!!!!

With all of that said, don’t get too attached to all the gutpunching goodness of these episodes’ moments, because we’re about to cover the most fucking hilarious and utterly embarrassing Garmau/Laurmau moment in the entire series. To me, at least.

That’s right, we’ve reached the “witnessing your WORST FEARS!!” episode. And this is Garroth and Laurance’s worst fear, right here.

Excuse my burning, autistic passion for a moment: LOOK AT THESE LOSERS!!! LOOK AT THESE UTTER DUMBASSES!!! LOOK AT HOW THEY SUCK ASS!!!!! They’re so embarrassing to witness I want to SCREAM. I want to tear them to pieces with my teeth like a dog upon a chew toy, LOOK AT HOW FUCKING STUPID THEY ARE!!! This is the lowest point Garroth and Laurance’s intelligence has EVER hit (thus far) and to me, honest to god, it’d be less embarrassing if they pissed themselves. What fuckin’ losers. I’m so unreasonably peeved by their idiocy (says the person writing 10,000 words of yapping about everything these fuckin Lego blocks do and think and say………)

But seriously you honest to god could not make me believe that “aphmau kissing a stranger they’ve never met” is the worst fear of both Garroth and Laurance. Bullshit. I call absolute fuckin bullshit. I REFUSE to believe that, fuck that shit. Do you have any idea what these bitches have been through???? Laurance witnessed his own father figure be horrifically MURDERED in front of his very eyes, when it was HIS JOB AND SOLE RESPONSIBILITY to make sure he stayed alive, and he FAILED. Not only that, his father figure was murdered by his own and only BESTEST FRIEND, after he WATCHED HER BURN ALIVE IN A POOL OF LAVA, and then he returned to the very same realm he watched her die in, gave up his LIFE to SLOWLY DIE IN A HORRIFICALLY TRAUMATIC PROCESS OF PHYSICAL TORTURE AND UNGODLY LEVELS OF PAIN that gave him SEVERE PTSD in the very same realm that she died in, only to become the SAME EXACT BREED OF MONSTER THAT HE WATCHED KILL HIS FATHER, and forever be faced with the reality of INEVITABLY FOLLOWING IN HER FOOTSTEPS AND REPEATING THE SAME CRIME BY MURDERING THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE!!!!!

AND GARROTH???? OHOHO THIS BITCH AINT FREE EITHER!!!! Garroth was raised in a highly dysfunctional, possibly even abusive household with a vicious and cruel father that looms over his life and legacy like the world’s most mortifying shadow of every expectation he COULDN’T MEET because he was so goddamn upset and scared and disturbed by the ways his father tried to remove his personal agency and consent (by marrying someone he didn’t want to, entering a romantic, possibly physical relationship he did not consent to) that he faked his OWN DEATH to RUN AWAY FROM HIS FAMILY, only to be rendered incapable of meeting the expectations and hopes of all the people in Phoenix Drop, too. He disappoints them like he disappoints everyone, and everything goes wrong because it’s his fault, and he never stops feeling guilty for his own cowardice or his loving heart that can’t see people’s true corruptions until it’s too late, he loathes himself for every sin that he carries upon his shoulders. Even if it’d be personally reasonable that he didn’t know, or he was only trying to take care of himself in a dire moment of need, etc. He’s lost his brothers, he’s lost Zenix, who he still terribly mourns to this day. He still believes in Zenix, he still grieves losing him, this monster he believes he created. He watched Phoenix Drop burn, because of Zenix, because of him. He thought he was safe, before Zane came around, before his only place of safety and security away from his mortifying family was completely breached and torn wide open by his ravenous brother, hunting him down like a bloodhound upon rabbits, there’s nowhere safe for him to hide anymore. He’s not safe from his family, no matter how far he tries to run, how much he tries to hide. He’s not safe from Zane taking everything away from him just for the kicks and giggles of it, he’s not safe from his father taking away his life and his personhood, he’s not safe from his legacy or his ever-looming shadow, he’s not safe from his sins, from the shadow of Lord Malik, from the weight of Zenix upon his shoulders, from losing his mommy, from losing Vylad… Garroth lives in a perpetual state of seeing his world, his safety, his security, crumble to dust all around him. Garroth lives in fear. Garroth lives in shame. Garroth can’t stop running, no matter how close the hounds get to snapping at his hooves, Garroth can’t stop hiding, no matter how many times his family pries open his security measures and breaks down his walls and invades every last space they weren’t allowed to open up. He belongs to his father and his wicked throne. The noose never stops looming, never stops closing tighter and tighter around his throat, no matter how hard he thrashes or struggles—or straight up just…gives up. His family tells him he means nothing, that he should be ashamed, that he’s stupid and worthless and only good for continuing the monarchy, and he believes them.

Garroth and Laurance’s “worst fear” would never be “aphmau kissing another man,” and in comparison to everything else we know about their character arcs by this point, the sheer childish, shallow pettiness of this choice feels like someone spitting on everything else these boys have been through. Not to mention the fact that we’re toeing the line of toxic, territorial heteronormative bullshit and toxically possessive behavior with shit like this. Genuinely it is not okay in any degree for Laurance or Garroth to actually attack and try to physically or violently harm anyone Aphmau wants to hook up with, especially since she is single and can date whoever she pleases, and they have zero ownership over her, nor do they deserve ANY control over her love life just because they like her. Thats fucked up, man. If this were actually really happening and Aphmau really did want to kiss Dante, and Laurance and Garroth tried to fucking maim him for it, Aphmau would have every right to fire them and kick them out of her guard. She would have every right and frankly should kick them to the curb for ever even attempting such a thing. What the fuck.

And on slightly more analysis-based terms, I believe Aphmau’s presence in their lives does make up an aspect of their overarching tapestry of trauma and fear and concerns and thoughts. If you put them through a nightmare sequence that covered all of their worst fears, I believe she should definitely make an appearance! But not like this. Not in the context of “ohh what if she romantically gets with someone else,” bro wtf they’ve got SOOOOO much bigger fish on their plates to worry about rn wtf. How about “I hope Zane doesn’t try to execute the love of my life and take me away from my son,” huh? What about “I hope I don’t worsen my greatest failure tenfold by becoming the exact same as my father’s murderer, even though im struggling against the inevitable explosion of a timebomb destroying everything I hold dear all over again”? How about you start worrying about the actual war looming on the horizon, instead of childish middle school drama bullshit? How about you start worrying about who you might watch die in the next coming months? You’ve got a son being hunted for his blood by monsters beyond all human strength and power, one of them being your own little brother/son figure who you love more than life and dearly miss and mourn despite his ultimate betrayal, and you’re worrying about your crush? What are you, 13 years old?

Anyway. Taking deep breaths now. Drinking a nice cup of tea like Zoey Taltatheil would want me to. I love this series with a very strong fiery passion, so like. If ever I go off about Garroth and Laurance’s worst actions or certain writing decisions, know that im not like,,, talking shit, especially not just for the sake of talking shit, yknow? I see so, sooo much infinite worlds of potential for these characters, so much so that I need to write thousands and thousands of words about them on a regular basis just to get the magnitude of how much they mean to me out of my chest, or else I explode lmao. So know I’m coming from a place of love with all of this, I say this because I love these characters and I love these stories and I want the best for them above all else. They truly are something beautiful, and a pivotal piece of my life, I’d give anything to these guys, and I don’t wanna be perceived as like… a negative person or harsh or anything like that whenever their…more dubious moments get me all fired up. But with all of that out of my system, back to legitimate character analysis, because this scene does actually have some interesting pieces I’d like to unpack as well:

Putting aside whether or not they should be reacting like this at all, I want to bring attention to how drastically different their reactions are, and how that’s used to contrast the two and their core personalities/demeanors. We’re also getting into how this arc is kind of the first time we see how Laurance’s transformation starts effecting him. So it’s very likely his anger is being heightened by his SK transformation, as it does for him later in this same arc when he argues with Garroth. But this exemplifies how, to me, Laurance is a lot like fire, and Garroth is a lot like water. Laurance’s anger is explosive, he’s shouting and screaming violent threats while Garroth stands in horror, speaking in quiet, broken up, whimpering, wounded phrases, barely anything at all. Where Garroth draws quiet and pulls away in his hurt, Laurance snarls and screams and explodes outwards, kicking and fighting against whatever bind you put him in. Maybe his SK side invents this in him, or perhaps it simply exemplifies and draws out an inherent character trait of how Laurance handles his temper, whenever it spikes.

That’s not to say that Garroth is incapable of reaching a high temper and shouting at people as well, he often does! But genuinely it feels like the dynamics of fire and water to me when he does. Like during his betrayal in S1’s finale, Garroth gets angry, but he handles his anger by withdrawing. Stepping back, turning quiet and reserved and cold. Backhanded, passive aggressive, still snarky, but not in the quippy, clever way that Laurance is. He feels like ice, cold and sharp and potent and deadly. While Laurance seethes, he blisters with his grudges and his grumblings under his breath and the sour glares he burns into your soul, only to shout at you once you poke his temper like a bear and a stick. Where Garroth is quiet, Laurance is loud, where Garroth is a sharp, singular, calculated point digging where he knows it’ll hurt the most, Laurance is an explosion that burns up everything around him in his vicinity, destroying his life piece by piece without much care for all the people it hurts when he finally blows up, all the people he pushes away at once. It’s present in the ways they act when they’re at their complete worst, but it’s also present in how they act when they’re at their best: The spark of laughter, the kindling of a warm and happy home. The comfort in the quiet stillness of a lake, in the gentle lapping of ocean waves by the shore.

(my god they got the red and blue homosexuals …… bro the fire/water red/blue elemental theming…… bro it’s everywhere……)

There’s also something fascinating to note about how it’s like… maybe this is just on Laurance’s side of things, maybe it’s both of them, but it’s like the competition for “who gets to be Aphmau’s lover” only extends to Garroth and Laurance in these two’s minds. Like, to them, they see each other as the only exceptions. Because there’s a contrast in their behaviors when it’s each other “succeeding” vs watching someone else, unrelated to their personal rivalry, “succeeding.” Garroth kisses Aphmau in a dream, and Laurance’s reaction is to teasingly say, “Hey, do you think if I showed up in his dreams, he’d be so excited to see me again that he’d kiss me too?” But Laurance watches Dante almost kiss Aphmau, and he loses his shit. Like it’s fair game for Garroth, his close friend and fellow rival, to kiss Aphmau, but once someone else he’s never seen before starts to “get in on it” so to speak, he’s FURIOUS. I wonder if that factors into why Laurance and Garroth dislike Aaron so much later on. Because he’s technically “”winning the game”” (i really don’t like referring to Aphmau like she’s a “game/prize” to be “won” and not like. a person, just making decisions. but like this is what exists in their heads and i gotta communicate how these boys think somehow) but he’s not been like… officially sworn into the match lmao. He’s an outsider, I guess. Either that, or it’s a matter of how familiar Laurance is with Garroth that he trusts him to be able to take good care of Aphmau and love her properly, so his protective nature doesn’t really extend to Garroth as a “potential threat,” but he hugely distrusts everyone else he doesn’t really know, so he doesn’t trust them to take good care of Aphmau, and therefore gets much more riled up about it. Just overall he has a much greater distaste and distrustful, angry and violent contempt for people he doesn’t personally know and trust trying to date Aphmau, a possessive/overprotective contempt that doesn’t apply to, say, Garroth, for some reason. Garroth doesn’t have this internal phenomenon as much, he’d still be like. Incredibly bothered if Laurance kissed Aphmau, this doesn’t apply to Garroth anywhere near as much as it does for Laurance, Garroth just doesn’t want anyone else “winning” her heart in general

To touch on what I mentioned with Aphmau being an aspect of Garroth and Laurance’s Concerns TapestryTM I think of Aphmau as representing something important to them in their lives. For Garroth, Aphmau is all the love that he never got growing up. For Laurance, she’s his humanity, his keystone of truth and sincerity and what it means to feel safe, to feel like yourself. She’s the guiding beacon back home. So if Laurance lost her, like say through murder or death or someone else taking her away or what have you, he’d be losing his only lighthouse of where to go in a world shrouded with darkness. Without her, he becomes lost, wandering through the shadowed and foggy wastes in his mind, slowly losing himself more and more and becoming everything he fears the most. He loses his humanity, he loses himself, he loses his heart, he loses all the love in his life that she (and his family + Garroth) brings. He needs her in the way a drowning man clings onto a rock, in the way a ship needs its lighthouse on the stormy, cloudy nights.

For Garroth… There’s a reason why im going on a character analysis journey, because I genuinely don’t know him as well as I know Laurance. He’s a big fan of keeping his true thoughts and feelings smothered wayyyy down out of sight, so it’s a lot harder for me to read what Aphmau means to Garroth on a real, complex, multi-faceted level. Beyond the simplicity of just a surface-level “oh he loves her.” Why does he love her? What, specifically, does he love about her, and what does he dislike? What kind of influence does she represent and cause in his life? Is she what home feels like to him? Is she the ideal form of the wife, the love, the family, he’s always wanted, but could never find in O’khasis? Is she the physical embodiment of the very reason why he left Nicole? When he looks at Nicole (later on), does he see Aphmau in her and think of an alternate timeline where those pieces were all he clung to to try to find solace in justifying that this arraigned marriage was okay? Or does he see a void in every way Nicole is vastly different from her and realize just how deeply unhappy he would have been, in every way they would have clashed as a couple, and everything he would yearn for that she could not give him? Is he disturbed by the differences, or relieved by them? Did he always wish and yearn for someone like Aphmau to love him, or did he rebuke the very idea of love growing up? Is this the first time it’s ever pounced upon him, startling him out of the blue? Does he struggle against its pull, in his mind? Does he think of all the ways that this would be a terrible idea, for someone to love him now, or does he put it on a pedestal? Is he so completely consumed by the appeal of being loved, that he doesn’t actually know what a relationship looks like? Does he refuse to believe that a being as wonderful as Aphmau would ever love something as disgusting as him? Is that why he kept quiet for so long? Is that why it stung so badly when the idea in his head that Aphmau could never be his, would never want to belong to something so foul and flawed and hideous, comes true? (in his personal perception, I mean, of the illusion of laurance kissing her in the woods)

Is she security, to him? Or is she the feeling of the thrill, of dangers unseen? Is she safety, or is she the terror of everything he’s scared to lose? Is she his master, of any kind? His leader, the one who paves the path that a measly dog like him can only follow? How much does he dedicate himself to her as an utter servant, bent to every beautiful and illustrious word she could ever say—or does he wish to control her himself? How he wants her to be his, and only his, does he want to claim her, mark her, forever emblazon her as his own claimed territory, an extension of his pride? Is there a vicious and cruel leader that lives on in him, that demands ownership of all he sees, that’s greedier and pettier and more prideful and wicked than he would like to admit, and he’s terrified of ever awakening it? Is that why he stays so quiet, why he draws away from others, why he keeps them at arms length and refuses to open up too much? Why he refuses to ever become a leader of anything—because he knows what he would be summoning if he did? The knowledge that, in truth, he has the potential to not only capture Garte’s legacy, but take it to new and terrible sights no one could ever imagine? Do you think it scares him? Do you think he’s desperate to never become the man he could be, and yet it gets drawn out of him anyway? In his pettiest moments, when the worst of him gets dragged out by the most insulting of circumstance, when his ego is bruised enough, it comes out anyway and he embraces it in the meanest way he can, in all his blinding rage and his stubbornly bleeding pride?

Do you think Aphmau is his guide through the dark, in a very similar way to Laurance, in all the ways she influences him to be better, to be kinder, to be more merciful and forgiving instead of strict, to have empathy beyond his warped moral code, in the ways she encapsulates everything he wishes, desperately, he could become instead? And when he rejects her, he strides strong and direct into the dark, to become the worst version of himself, to dominate and control, to turn to higher ambitions (joining the jury of nine) and closer to the throne than ever before, to embrace his dark role in the family unit, his powerful role in the family unit—do you think he and Laurance are opposites, in that way? Why Laurance had to be the reminder of empathy and heart and forgiveness and mercy, to find him in the dark and drag him back to what’s real, as opposed to what’s right?

I don’t think of canon MCD!Garroth as some woobified ditsy adorable golden retriever boy, like what he,,quite literally becomes in mystreet lmao. I used to, but then I started my rewatch and realizing a lot of his behaviors and decisions in the canon series are not actually that “Boy Scout” of him? And in my personal opinion, he feels a lot closer to having potential of becoming a mean and gritty villain in a slightly different timeline than having any sort of potential for being a,,,cute, innocent, “oh no so saddd :((“ golden retriever prettyboy with a heart of gold. My man does not have a heart of gold, and I will die by that. He has a heart of fiercely believing what he thinks is right, and valuing that + his pride over things like empathy and love. He’s a man of his own personal law, not a man of sweet adorable innocence. He’s not your pookie, he’s one hell of a bitch.

He’s most of the reason why im going through the whole series to create a perfect, detailed tapestry of every way Garroth speaks, thinks, ticks, moves, feels, what he believes, what his morals are, where he aligns himself, his best and worst personality traits, why he’s loved by others and why he loves Aphmau in the first place, why he turns on her, how he feels about Zane, whether or not he values his pride above anything else, including love and care and empathy for others. I understand Laurance and Aaron like the back of my hand, but Garroth? Not so much. I’m always guessing with this man. So like… at this point in my research, the data is unclear. I’ll get back to the question of, “What does Aphmau mean to Garroth exactly? What would it mean for him to lose her?” when I figure out the rest lmao

Plus, it’s a little harder to approach the question of “what would it mean for him to lose her” when it comes to Garroth specifically, because he like. totally throws her to the wolves later, he kicks her ass to the CURB lmao, so like- whatever he gets in losing her, it’s clearly not terrifying or dire enough for him to actually give a shit about keeping her around when his ego gets tested lmao

(It’s also harder for me to understand MCD!Aphmau as a character, so im also going down this character analysis journey for her sake as well, but anyway)

Aphmau, surprisingly, isn’t really phased at all by what she just witnessed, in terms of seeing her boys react so embarrassingly. To be fair, she is the author, so if their reactions are ethically fine to Jess, then they’d be ethically fine to Aphmau, and I fully think that’s why. But there’s also the fact that she’s not really having any reaction at all in general, she doesn’t talk to the boys about it, she doesn’t confront them about it, she doesn’t check on them to ask what that was about and if they’re okay, and I think that’s because, narratively, this scene isn’t intended by design to leave much of an impact on Aphmau personally. Most of them aren’t. Sometimes MCD!Aphmau is a character more than anything else, but a lot of the time she functions as little more than a walking camera for the audience. That scene wasn’t designed to leave a lasting emotional impact on Aphmau as a character, as a complicated, in-depth person, that scene was designed to allow the audience to watch a juicy moment of drama where we get to see the boys witness their “worst fear!!!” and get mega jealous. If I were to come up with how Aphmau would be feeling about her boys’ reaction to the illusion, I would probably be extrapolating into the land of variable subjective headcanon and, to a degree, starting to make shit up. Which is what I mean about how she’s harder to read as a character because she’s more of a vessel than anything else, half of the time. She’s a camera for her YouTube audience to see what she’s written, and she’s the author reacting to dialogue and events as if she were immersed in the world, but throughout S1, Aphmau’s not really fully a character yet. I think S2, when we drop the video cam in the corner and treat her more like a narrative pov instead of a YT streamer’s camera, is when her personality starts to get a lot more fleshed out and she starts reacting to things and being impacted by things more properly.

In a way, you could use that as fuel to write an arc for her that’s based on the concept of what makes us a person. In others eyes (Irene correlation), in our loved ones’ eyes (with all the general objectification done by Garroth and Laurance if you’re keeping that in), and in our own.

Anyway, Aphmau does something super sweet and adopts Malachi as her own. New son gained! Where the others see a dangerous and unpredictable threat, Aphmau sees a child playing with things it doesn’t have the emotional maturity/capacity to understand. This proves her high empathy, forgiving nature, and,,,uh. maternal instincts, probably.

I do love Laurance calming the fuck down to see this from a more empathetic perspective as well. He says he’s an orphan too (he’ll be a 2x orphan after the timeskip🔪) so he can’t help but sympathize with the little lad. He reacted the most violently to the illusion, but he’s also the quickest to open up to the idea of Malachi being his new baby, so,,, I. I dunno. Hey I’ll take a Laurdad moment wherever I can get one lmao

It’s sweet that he’s at least trying to do the same thing Garroth did when he found out Aphmau would be taking in a kid to raise as her own. He wants to make sure she isn’t handling it alone, that he shares some of the burden and helps her out, supports her in this responsibility and journey.

Lmao i feel bad for Dante. What a way to make a first impression on your newest little friend lmao. “Welcome to the guard!!! (WE WILL BOTH PERSONALLY EVISCERATE YOU AND TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB IF YOU EVER SO MUCH AS THINK OF ROMANTICALLY PURSUING OUR CRUSH. ONE WRONG MOVE AND WE’LL FUCKING KILL YOU)”

also right after Aphmau and Dante get down from their position up above witnessing Laurance and Garroth’s fear responses, Dante tells Aphmau, “Aphmau, that child is a spectre! get away from it, be careful!!!” and Laurance retorts to him with a “SHE can do WHATEVER she WANTS, EXCUSE YOU”

and i can’t help but like… laugh at that, coming from laurance lmao. like. i know it’s related specifically to handling the ghost and he’s just being snarky here, but. laurance my guy you are the exact reason why she can’t do whatever she wants. like you and Garroth are single-handedly the number one reason why Aphmau actually isn’t allowed to do “whatever she wants” with her life and her choices. like you just barely proved that pretty damn strongly lmao. if there’s any way Aphmau is being unreasonably restricted from being free to do whatever she wants with her life, it is like. most certainly your own fault my guy

I have literally drawn this moment because of how much it means to me. It is the banner for my profile, as of writing this. I fucking love Laurdad. I do like that the boys kinda have their own favorite kid that looks like them, Garroth has Levin as his number one favorite son with the blonde hair and blue eyes, and Laurance has Malachi as his favorite son, and though i know Mal looks a lot more like Vylad than anything else, I think he’s based on Laurance in the same way Levin is obviously based on Garroth. He has brown hair like Laur, and though he has green eyes and currently Laur has blue, he used to have bright green eyes before the Nether. And if the orange was hair dye, then that means Laurance’s natural, unaltered appearance would be brown hair with green eyes. Just like Mal. Not to mention the fact that Malachi and Laurance also share an orphaned past and a life bound by the supernatural, creepy, and even disturbing undead. Of course Laurance “The Doomed One & Our Vampire Allegory” Zvahl’s kid would be the creepy undead one <3

This move also integrates Laurance solidly into Aphmau’s family unit. Previously, he could have just been seen as Levin’s occasional babysitter, or an uncle figure, but now he is solidly one of the dads. And with it, I wanna bring attention to one of my utmost favorite things in Minecraft Diaries by far—The Aphmau family unit. Let me spell something out for you: We have four children, only one that’s biological and three that are all adopted, one that’s a supernatural former ghost, with two moms, and two dads, four parents in total. That is NOT a heteronormative nuclear family unit. That’s a weird-ass family unit to have!! Three adopted kids, one biological kid, two moms, two dads, and NONE of them are married, or even officially dating. And the narrative never views them as weird!!! It’s never commented on by any of the characters how strange it is that these adopted kids have 4 parents at once, or even that they have a single mom as their only “official” parent! It’s never questioned! It’s never judged! They’re treated as normally and kindly as anyone else, and you know what’s really awesome? Instead of judging and scorning Aphmau for being a single mom, everyone in her vicinity immediately offers up as much support as they can. The whole village cares for her and her wellbeing and success. Logan (and probably Donna and their children by proxy as well) takes good care of her kids whenever the town is in danger, and he helps Zoey raise and take care of the boys during the timeskip. The town throws baby showers to celebrate each child and give Aphmau all these gifts, probably to make her life easier as a mom! Garroth and Laurance never question her ability to raise her children on her own, instead they automatically take the extra responsibility of helping out as co-parents without any fight or hesitation or apprehension or scorn. They just…automatically sign themselves up as parents, because Aphmau’s a mother now. They recognize that being a single mom is a lot of work and a lot of responsibility to carry—so they choose to help!!! Just- automatically!!! Without any resistance!!! And they LOVE being dads!!!!! They’re not even married!!!!!!!! Do you have any fucking clue how rare odd/unusual and arguably revolutionary family units are in fiction??!?!?!?! The only non-traditional family unit in fiction I can remember seeing consists of like…all the tragic shows and movies and video games I’ve seen out there about a single father or mother + their kids, which is still much more normal than whatever Aphmau’s got going on, and like… Steven Universe, with one kid, four moms, and one biological dad, and the only people who are married in that situation are two of the lesbian moms that are not biologically related to Steven. That’s the only family unit in fiction I’ve seen that’s comparable to MCD!Aphmau’s. Aphmau’s family means soooooo sososo fucking much to me man.

(oh! and Aaron has a biological kid of his own that he had from a different marriage, so Alina and the others have a half-brother through him, and Zoey has a son that we never ended up seeing, so he’d probably count as some kind of,,,,uh,,,half,,step brother? from her? so in reality there are six kids, with the extra two being from previous marriages, one widowed and one basically divorced. those other two kids are just. uh. out of commission, so to speak)

Also, that means Vylad and Zane are uncles to Aphmau’s children, and Cadenza is their aunt. And Hayden, Joh, Zianna, and Garte are all grandparents. Levin should meet his uncle Vylad at some point, I think that’d be really sweet

...Speaking of Aaron~

THE MAN!!

THE MYTH!!

THE LEGEND!!

ABS MAN!!!

Its the alpha male of your dreams (or your worst nightmares), the man who refuses to let his Sick Fit conform to the ways of “time periods” and “a medieval fantasy setting” or heaven forbid the laws of “temperature and body heat,” the man blinded by his scarf who somehow still has perfect aim, the definition of mysterious brooding tall dark and handsome, the insufferable jackass with a true heart of gold, the man whose flashing the biggest sword out of all the other sexy boys in the cast and yes im talking about the weapon— AARON LYCAN!!!!

Hate him or love him, it’s good to see you again, man.

Dude, MCD Aarmau is wild when you actually look back at it. You thought Laurance and Aphmau got off on a bad foot? Try these two. They’re strained and clashing for a looong time before they become close. They are a rollercoaster.

Aaron is cold, stern, and completely closed off from the world. He lives in an abandoned, arctic wasteland without any hope for human civilization miles away. He’s completely isolated himself, and he’s hellbent on staying that way. He’s brash and harsh and icy to those around him in an effort to push them all away, because of the trauma in his past. He has trust issues and a hellish amount of anger in his system because my man is not handling the mourning and grief of his wife and son well at all. There was a severe amount of injustice in how they died, they were innocents murdered by a man causing destruction just for the fun of it, for kicks, and he’s furious that they’re gone and furious with Zane and furious with trusting strangers ever again, and it bleeds out a lot into everything else. But I think he also harbors a lot of self-loathing and guilt (exactly like Garroth and Laurance) over the death of his family and his village. I think he blames himself for it. He blames Zane, yes, he’s furious that Zane murdered an entire innocent village, including his wife, his son, his childhood friends, and the head guard that raised him (sounds an awful lot like agent r to me, but that’s just a headcanon) and burned down his childhood home and likely any remnants of his father and family and anything he ever held dear—but he also feels like it was his fault that it ever happened in the first place. Maybe if he hadn’t taken the amulet, maybe if he had just taught his son to be slightly more wary of strangers, maybe if he had found Zane first, none of that would have happened. Maybe if he hadn’t failed, they would all still be alive. I wouldn’t be surprised if Aaron was a victim of survivors guilt as well, feeling guilty that he was the only one who survived, when they all had such potential for wonderful lives they should have been allowed to live, not him. The life his son was supposed to live, how his son was supposed to outlive him, not the other way around. Maybe he hates himself for surviving. The grief of all of that would be fucking crushing. I can see how, in a depressive state that far down, a man like him would isolate himself, cut himself off from ever loving or caring for anyone again, because he’s so fucking terrified of losing them the same way—of losing them because of a mistake he made. So it’s better to be cold, to not care, to never give a shit about anyone else and spend the rest of his days utterly, miserably alone, punishing himself with his isolation in the freezing cold that could very well kill him at any moment. Fighting werewolves, something that could very well kill him if he made one wrong move, and only holding onto his anger as the only emotion that could possibly keep a man that depressed and traumatized and psychologically torn to shreds still standing, still moving, still pressing onwards despite the weight of it all. Because what else does he have to live for, if not to avenge everyone that died? Maybe if he avenged them by killing Zane, it would make right his sins. Maybe then, he could finally allow himself to rest, to stop moving and searching for him, to lay down in the snow and finally join his family in peace.

His self-imposed isolation is supposed to make him look all cool and mysterious and brooding, but I can’t take that seriously for the life of me lmao, so I’m gonna see it for what it really is: Self-destructive behavior. Constant, never-ending self-destruction, harming himself and his livelihood out of blood-bleaching terror, guilt, shame, grief, anger, fatigue, and despair. He is not handling his trauma well at all, so he pushes everyone away all the time…but that’s never going to be enough to erase his heart. Not completely.

He could have left Aphmau to die. It would have been easy. But what kind of person would he be, if he let someone else die, again? If he had the ability to stop it, and once again, he fucking failed them? He couldn’t possibly. He doesn’t want to be seen as nice, he doesn’t want anyone to like him, to grow attached to him and try to keep him around. Maybe because he doesn’t intend on sticking around. But no matter how hard he tries to smother it out, he still has a big heart underneath. The heart of someone who desperately yearns for love, for human connection that he hasn’t experienced in years, the whimpering and weak man who just wants his wife back, who wishes he could be a father again. Who has enough compassion to help out those in need, even if he tries to convince them he’s actually not very nice. Who has enough compassion and quiet, tender, shy, soft fatherly love in him left to treat Nekoette with a gentle patience and kindness, who would wholeheartedly participate in a tea party picnic with Nekoette if she begged him to. And you just know he would take that princess tea party very seriously, only to snark Aphmau, Laurance, or whoever found him sitting on a tiny plastic pink chair with a teacup perfectly poised in his hand, pinky raised. Aaron as a character is wise, emotionally mature, much more so than Aphmau, Garroth, Laurance, or like,,, most of the entire fkin cast lmao. In every universe, Aaron is the one who holds the brain cells. Notably, in MCD only, he’s also a former Lord. This gives him a level of experience and wisdom that Garroth and Laurance and most others don’t have, and it puts him on equal footing with Aphmau, as opposed to the imbalance of servant x idol that’s embedded deep into Laurmau and Garmau’s relationships, mainly due to being her knights. So if ever Aphmau needs help or advice or aid in handling Lordship, Aaron is the one who can and would give it to her, and MCD!Aaron isn’t gonna sugarcoat that shit. (yes I know Garroth is “technically” a lord in canon but he never went back to take his throne, so he’s literally never served a day in his life as a lord. he has zero experience and rejects that role as much as humanly possible. he does not count)

His design in MCD is hilariously laughable (look at them big and plump frostbitten blueass man titties. his skin doesn’t have nips on it because he’s already lost them to the arctic tundra. look at that pyramid stud-lookin hot topic belt with those emo black ripped skinny jeans. do you think his jeans are skin-tight to the curvature of his ass. do you think that whole ass is out, in the snow, in the mountains, in -0 degrees weather. do you think it claps when he walks. you can hear it echo across the mountainside from miles away. it’s his calling card. the abs count as armor plating, they deflect the blades of swords and even the hardest of werewolf claws. why? because the steel of the sword may be hard but aaron is harder. he leaves behind adidas footprints when he walks) but I do like him as a character lmao. We’ve entered DILF territory from here on out guys

nevermind guys I take back any prior frustration. i love them. guys look at them they’re so fucking CUTE aaAAUUGH they love each other <3

I love love love that they included an apology. I love that they fight, but then they make up!! They step back to cool off, and when they do, they come back to each other and apologize earnestly for everything they said and did while they were arguing. They really don’t like fighting each other. It’s SO sweet. It’s so sweet that they care about each other that much to admit they were wrong, for their love for each other they’ll forgo their prides and beg for forgiveness. I love seeing a glimpse into Garroth’s softer side in how he treats Laurance. He was the one getting insulted the most in that fight, and yet he’s the one who first turns right around and apologizes earnestly and insists that he was the one in the wrong, no matter what. He really does feel bad, he regrets what he’s done wrong and returns to Laurance to tenderly beg for forgiveness. And Laurance is more casual and carefree about it, shrugging off Garroth’s insistence that Laurance was justified and apologizing too for his own brash attitude. With how he’s talking here, i could almost vividly, perfectly capture the small smile on his face as he’s speaking. They should hug and hold hands and Garroth should cup his face in his big ol palms and they should hug and clutch each other close and then they should get married /silly

This episodes also an important point to spotlight the beginning of Laurance’s descent. Oh, to be doomed to become someone’s Judas.

In his description, Laurance paints an image that is honestly horrifying, with losing literal control over your body but being forced to watch as something else, something well beyond your mortal control, a worse and warped, inhuman version of you, takes over your body and your words and does everything it can to destroy everything around you. It’s like he’s getting possessed. It removes your inhibitions and your filter and pushes you to be so much angrier than you normally are, artificially pushing you over the edge and encouraging you to spit venomous words and do everything you can to start a fight and draw blood and get violent. I wonder how much regret and fear Zenix feels, if that’s true. But it does imply that Laurance’s angrier moments, the times he’s meaner and sharper and crueler, they’re unlike him and a deviation from his natural state, artificially caused by his demonic descent into madness and bloodlust.

i luv men <3

Laurance being petty and snarky, he’s the one who always starts fights, Dante isn’t the one who starts them but he’s the one who gets caught up in them, and Garroth is always the one to settle them. Garroth’s the one in the group with enough maturity to tell them all to stop fuckin bickering over meaningless things. And Aphmau’s outside of the arguments—but she insists she wasn’t the one who got them lost. But as a whole she prefers to stay away from any and all bickering in general. Garroth keeping track of where their priorities and responsibilities really are and yanking them back on track when Laurance veers off on a distraction and Dante easily follows.

Then Aphmau gets arrested/almost arrested for the third time now.

Aphmau gets turned into a dog per Lucinda’s escape plan, and i love the contrast in Laurance and Garroth’s reactions. Garroth gets mega worried and freaks out, and meanwhile Laurance just trusts Aphmau to always know what she’s doing, even if shit gets wacky and weird, he’s still down! He’s all for it! Let’s get weird! He says she’s lookin’ good! Garroth asks that she PLEASE be safe PLEASE please be SAFE and meanwhile Laurance is just like “knock ‘em dead baby 👉👉” Garroth is a worrywart pacing a path into the floor of the cell, while Laurance is much more adventurous and always down to clown. They’re opposites!

these two are a never ending rollercoaster on studying the portrayal and varying extent of empathy vs ego. Maybe i need to rethink prior assessments about these two. I’m learning just as you guys are as you follow me along this journey, I’m making this up as I go, so naturally I expect myself to start getting certain shit wrong. Maybe my previous assessment of “Garroth has lower empathy than laurance” wasn’t entirely correct. But I still feel like I need to figure out some sort of solid, in-depth explanation for why Garroth betrays them later on… It’s this interesting dichotomy Garroth’s character poses to me. Perhaps I need to shift my paradigm. I’m focusing on the wrong things, simplifying my assessments based on surface-level reactions and traits, looking at the equation from the wrong angle.

Here, Laurance reiterates the idea I’ve so far assumed, and it’s that Garroth is a very pride-based man. Not as in he’s particularly arrogant or haughty or full of himself, not in the slightest. Just that his pride, his ego, is one of his highest priorities. When it’s wounded, it cuts him so much deeper than it would for other characters, like Aphmau or Aaron or Dante. And that was my explanation for why he behaves the way he does in certain circumstances, especially and mainly at his worst, and how it affects his view of Aphmau. When he’s at his worst, from what I remember and presume, he seems to act very pridefully, and there’s a consistent emphasis on “Garroth’s pride” throughout the latter half of S1, like right now. So it’s certainly at least…an aspect of him, of his values and core pieces that influence his decisions and the way he thinks. He’s not full of himself at ALL, he’s actually severely insecure, and that’s why he’s a man of wounded ego, and men of wounded egos can often do… drastic and unfortunate things. Like leaving his loved ones and his entire town to die in a critical time of war, or even sacrificing his life because he sincerely feels like his loved ones are better off without him.

But I think where I assume incorrectly about his character is in the latter half of what Laurance points out: His pride doesn’t stem from selfishness. His pride stems from selflessness, and an extreme, empathetic excess of it.

That’s fascinating. I’m gonna need to chew real hard on that.

Laurance says, “What he’s most proud of is the people he cares for - he invests too much of himself in them and while I don’t believe that to be a bad thing, he invests ALL of himself into them, which IS a bad thing.” What this demonstrates is high empathy, or empathic behavior. And I do trust that Laurance knows Garroth intimately enough by this point to know Garroth’s real and honest flaws, I think he’s fully telling the truth about him and would make a brutally honest, accurate assessment of his character. I trust Laurance’s assessments of Garroth more than I’d trust anyone else in the cast and much more than I’d trust my own lmao. He’s painting the picture of how Garroth has such immense empathy and intense love and care and compassion for everyone around him, that he doesn’t see them for the swindling or wicked or heartless people they really are. I don’t feel like Laurance is correct or telling Hard Objective Facts when he claims his own method and approach is better than Garroth’s, but he is correct when he assesses that Garroth’s sensitive heart may lead him to falter with or possibly refuse to do something like killing Zenix, if push came to shove. I doubt that Garroth is exactly a doormat? He doesn’t seem to be much of a doormat to Zane, I mean. Or to any of the other more run-of-the-mill threats they come across. And it’s not exactly doormat behavior to betray your father’s commands by escaping your toxic family to a brand new, healthier, better life for yourself. He’s not a doormat, I think Laurance is referring to Garroth hesitating before taking a crucial strike, because he loves Zenix with his whole heart, while Laurance wouldn’t hesitate to kill Zenix on sight (ironic lmao).

And maybe this is more true than my theory of Garroth not caring as much as he seems. In how Mystreet!Garroth still smothers Zane in love despite all the years of unrelenting insults and bullying and cruelty his brother throws on him, because he sees the best in his brother and struggles to think that he would actually hate him. In how MCD!Garroth worries and paces holes into the floor as he desperately tries to think of a way to get everyone out alive, and how he frets when Aphmau gets turned into a wolf pup. In how he comes back to apologize earnestly to Laurance and struggles to wrap his head around how Laurance could be in the wrong, too, even if he so obviously is. In how he dedicated his life to the woman that gave him a guard tower, because he’s so immensely grateful for her gifts and occasional kindnesses that he tries to give his life to her in return.In how Garroth saw the way Zenix acted and spoke and behaved, which was rude, crass, insulting, rebellious, rebuking him and challenging him regularly and being difficult and always suggesting unethical or morally shitty alternatives to doing anything (if Rebirth is anything to go by) and it had never occurred to Garroth that he could be a bad person or a jackass or anyone who would betray him.

Which is why I actually really dislike Rebirth!Garroth much more so than MCD!Garroth, because where Garroth is occasionally cold and prideful, Rebirth!Garroth is straight up harsh and angry and resentful and bitter. When I think of Rebirth!Garroth losing Zenix, deadass you’d have to write me an essays worth of proof just to convince me his reaction to losing Zenix wouldn’t be “Oh, thank god. I’m so glad that insufferable brat is gone.” Where MCD!Garroth is tender and soft and redeemable at his worst, Rebirth!Garroth is severely annoyed with everyone and anything and hates his life and doesn’t want to be here and never wants Zenix to speak ever again lmao. Man im FAR from a Garroth fanboy and even I feel like Rebirth butchered my boy.

Garroth is a more lawful character, especially when you contrast him with Laurance, but that doesn’t mean he’s…a stern, no-nonsense, disapproving prude. He redirects their focus when Laurance takes them off track, and he dislikes how inappropriate Laurance behaves when he’s acting like a misogynistic fuckboy and harassing girls who don’t want his advances lmao, but there’s never been a point thus far where he criticizes Laurance’s chaotic or adventurous or playful personality. He doesn’t like him sexually harassing others who feel uncomfortable with his advances, he thinks of it as ungentlemanly of him, but have you noticed that he hasn’t brought that up even once since Laurance’s return from the Nether? Aka, when Laurance dropped the fuckboy act? Laurance still flirts with Aphmau on the regular now, but Garroth doesn’t speak of it as inappropriate anymore. He just gets flustered and jealous, but that’s all. And later on, he even admits to envying and admiring Laurance’s confidence to speak his mind. He admires Laurance’s boldness, just when it’s appropriate and not breaking anyone else’s boundaries. Once Laurance cuts the shit and starts flirting much more respectfully and kindly, he doesn’t mind so much. He’s not mortified by it, because he knows Aphmau is comfortable with it. He sees how he makes her laugh, and he’s grateful for it. He’s just a shy man who struggles to be that confident in his own life and relationships, so he wishes he had some of Laurance’s self-assurance and bravery. Maybe he shows some more disdain for Laurance’s,,,~promiscuity~ (lol) in the future and I just haven’t come across it yet, in which case I’ll correct myself if I do, but like. I’m just saying. We’re 71 episodes in now and he hasn’t talked shit about Laurance’s sexuality yet.

Like, I feel like if canon-accurate Garroth saw Laurance in some like,,,super sexy, revealing leather fit, his reaction would NOOOOOT be prudish shame clutching his pearls with disdain and disgust for how bold and Crude and Outlandish laurance is being. His reaction would be him shyly or nervously not knowing what to say, maybe stuttering, maybe getting flustered, and saying something about how he admires Laurance’s confidence and wishes he could be that cool. Maybe muttering under his breath about how he wonders if he could get Aphmau to look at him like that if he did the same, and then immediately shaking away the idea and shooing it away as quick as it came. Mystreet!Garroth would probably react more with a, “Woooow… Sexy! Hehehe, this’ll win you all the girls for sure!” ((REMINDS YOU LOUDLY OF THE TIME GARROTH CANONICALLY WORE NURSE LINGERIE FOR A COMEDY SKIT LAURANCE WAS FILMING)) At worst, his reaction would be a deadpan, neutral “Wow. Now that’s something you don’t see every day… Why am I not surprised?” but frankly if it were me, I’d give that reaction to Aaron! If you tweaked the dialogue a little, it’d suit Aaron much better than it would suit Garroth. And they’re supposed to contrast each other. Aaron is the stern, cold, “judgy,” deadpan one. Not Garroth. Laurance is adventurous and chaotic, Garroth is orderly and shy and a highly empathetic worrywart with a rare playful side when he’s comfortable (a side that’s completely brought to the focus in Mystreet), and Aaron is the deadpan, mature, wise, no-nonsense serious one that’s blown away by their crazier antics every time. Laurance is clever but not really wise, (MCD)Garroth is…uh. Mainly emotionally intelligent above anything else but not an idiot, responsible but not exactly wise, and Aaron is the wisest one out of all of them but lacks in other areas that the other two fill. ((—that being said, I do see a lot of people adding on Catholic guilt and shame to their versions of rewritten Garroth, and I think that’s cool <3 it suits him, fits in snug with his canon characterization, and in that case giving him more sexual shame and prudeish behavior would be very fitting. sadly im doing everything I can to not cover headcanons though lmao))

He never talks shit about Zenix’s more rude, judgmental, obnoxious, and brash behavior either, by the way. He never talks shit at all about how he used to act and behave, now that I’m thinking back. That’s something that’s entirely new to Rebirth. They cropped that in, that annoyance with Zenix’s behavior didn’t exist before. (it’s because they made Zenix more of a misogynistic creep in rebirth and didn’t want to seem like they were endorsing it lmao, but like. you could’ve easily salvaged their original, close, intimate bond by just. not making Zenix act like a misogynistic creep all the time. and then Garroth would have nothing to be angry about lmao. like that was optional. we could’ve gone without that just fine)

Laurance says, “what he’s most proud of is the people he cares for.” Most proud of the people he cares for… What does that mean? I don’t think he means that in any form of selfish way. I think he means that Garroth invests soooo so so much of himself into other people, to the point of not fully taking care of himself and his own needs. Maybe that’s how Lillian was able to get to him so easily. Because he doesn’t take care of himself first. Everyone else in the world is his priority before he’d invest in his own personal wellbeing. Aphmau is his highest priority above all else, pretty much everything he does is for Aphmau’s sake. He feels cautious and apprehensive about Laurance’s SK transformation because he’s worried for Aphmau’s sake. He stops their bickering for her sake, leaves PD to travel to the arctic for Aphmau’s sake, adopts a son for Aphmau’s sake, it’s in everything he does. So of course he would put himself as the last on his list, of course he would give up his own life for Aphmau’s. Maybe what Lillian was able to convince him of was make him see just how little he does something for himself. Maybe he was simply just…wounded, plain and simple, by Aphmau and Laurance getting together, no further resentment or vehement rage, maybe he felt betrayed that they progressed their relationship so much behind his back, despite how present he was in this three-way rivalry situation they have going on, despite Laurance knowing how much it all meant to him. He found them kissing in the woods, confirming a relationship. He saw them staying together at night and keeping secrets and growing all the more close and intimate, and meanwhile Laurance never told him a word, when he was so certain that he trusted he would. He was part of this strange, three-way waiting game, and surely it looked exactly like all of a sudden he’d been booted out of the group dynamic with zero explanation, like getting kicked out of your best friend’s group chat, and they start drawing away from you and ghosting you and never think to tell you why. That would make him feel wounded and betrayed, and if his heart is as big as Laurance says, if he invests soooooo so so so fucking much of his extremely loving heart into his relationships, suddenly getting kicked out by your dearest friends and isolated would feel horrible. And Garroth likely didn’t understand why they would do something like that, and it’s not like they’re communicating with him the answer lmao, they’re not even aware that he’s upset!! They just think he caught the flu!!! And Laurance assumes that’s why he’s upset, because he’s sick!!! Perhaps that makes it even more insulting, that it doesn’t occur to them that anything would be wrong. Of course they wouldn’t even notice that he’s gone. And when they do notice his absence, they STILL don’t acknowledge getting together or what they’ve actually done, it doesn’t occur to them at all that he’d be upset about them leaving him behind. I can see why he’d be angry. Garroth thinks he’s been abandoned, this sensitive and already very reserved and bad-at-talking-about-his-feelings man who struggles so much to feel like he deserves to be loved, he assumes they don’t want him as their intimate companion anymore and shuts himself away from the world from how horribly his heart is broken—and that’s when Lillian meets him.

Maybe Lillian puts the idea in his head that this was an intentional move on Aphmau and Laurance’s part, that they were excluding him on purpose, because they don’t like him anymore. Because Laurance betrayed their entire previous bond and agreement and competition not by finally “getting the girl,” but by never telling Garroth and silently booting him out of the group by keeping Aphmau all to himself and abandoning Garroth, never even telling him or communicating with him or checking on him to see if he’s okay with everything going on, or letting him know the news of what’s been going on and checking how he feels with it all. Instead of handling it with the kind of equal respect and open, honest communication and,,,frankly, love and close intimacy, that they were treating each other with before, he feels like Laurance just… swooped in, took his prize, and both he and Aphmau completely dropped Garroth, both as a lover but as their friend, when he was no longer relevant to them anymore.

Maybe Lillian reminds him of how little he does anything for himself. Maybe she shows him how much he did for them and how much he loved them both, and told him how little they love him in return, and such a revelation would be crushing for a heart like his. And poor, wounded, isolated, naive Garroth believed her, because the damage had been done, and then anger brewed. Anger that made him stubborn, anger that made him want to close off his heart in an extremely volatile way. I wonder if Lillian had never been part of the equation after the initial illusion, he still would’ve shut himself away from the outside world for a few days, but maybe he wouldve been less angry, as he would’ve had more time. Maybe like the apology he gave Laurance in the manor when they were fighting, he would eventually cave to his heart and come out, reach out to Laurance, assuming he already knew everything that was going on, and beg him to simply talk to him and explain why he doesn’t want him around anymore—only for Laurance to immediately correct him and insist no no no no, why would you ever think that? you and Aphmau are the most special and dearest people in the world to me, why would you ever think I don’t want you around anymore? And then they’d figure out that there was an illusion, Aphmau and Laurance would explain the whole secret amulet nightmare hell they’ve been tangling with lately, apologize profusely for accidentally making Garroth feel like he was worthless by keeping him out of the loop with all of that, and they’d clear it all up and have a good cry and everything would be happy hunky-dory and they go beat Zane’s ass.

I think Lillian’s influence is what brought out, seeded, and festered Garroth’s anger. The heartbreak was the unfortunate coincidence of two things colliding, Laurance and Aphmau accidentally drawing away by keeping secrets and Garroth distancing himself like the reserved and shy/uncertain man he always is, and the illusion Lillian planted to make Garroth think Laurmau getting together was why. And not what it really was, which was like… crazy espionage death threat spy bullshit making them grow more private and secretive than before. And in reality, Aphmau and Laurance still really deeply loved Garroth during all of that and were really really worried about him when he withdrew and locked himself away to cry in his bedroom for 42 hours (which is a reasonable response). Maybe if Lillian hadn’t been there, when Aphmau came to check on him and try to speak to him and just…letting him know that they miss him and they’re here for him whenever he’s ready to come out, maybe he would have actually gotten up and answered the door and spoken to her then, and they would’ve worked things out.

I can’t help but think about how Garroth probably was raised to believe that he was unloveable, growing up. Especially if everything Zane tells him in all/both universes is anything to go by. He did say that Zane started copying and learning from his father’s terrible behavior, once Garte started turning more corrupt. Perhaps they made him believe that no one would ever want to love someone as stupid, naive, gullible, useless, incompetent, foolish, bumbling, childish, oversensitive, dramatic, emotional, soft, and weak as him (based on how Zane insults him). So when Lillian and Zane come in while he’s vulnerable, while he feels heartbroken and betrayed and isolated and abandoned, and he doesn’t know why, and he can’t understand this difference in their behavior, they swoop in and whisper in his ear the idea that all the things the cruel voice in his head says to him is true, that it’s always been true that no one would ever love him, and only now, now that Aphmau and Laurance have left his worthless heart behind, can he see the truth. But not to fear, because Zane sees his potential for what it truly is. Zane’s always been right about him, he knows his brother better than anyone else, and no matter how far he tries to run, Zane will always find him, and be here for him. See, Zane has a place for him. Lady Aphmau may not want him anymore, but Zane does. His family wants him. They have a purpose for him, a way for him to mean something, a home he can never run away from, a home that will hold him, even if their hands are cold and their hearth is even colder, even if it’s nothing like what he really wanted—but what he wanted out of love and life and family was impossible to achieve, now was it? Nothing but the stupid, silly, childish dreams of a bumbling, foolish man that made up a fantasy that could never happen in the first place. His family will always be here, behind him. Waiting for him. Pulling him back. His family will always be the only thing that’s true.

So he comes back. He drops his home at Phoenix Drop, he returns to Zane’s side, and he joins the Jury of Nine. In his despair, he lets go of the new family he’d made, his children, his loved ones, his home, the town he raised Zenix in, the friends he’d made, the memories he’d made over the years, everything he’d ever cared for and needed and valued most above all else, he throws it all away and it kills him on the inside, but he burns with anger for how he was betrayed. Much like Aaron’s poor handling of his own grief turning into anger that pushes everyone else away, he pushes everything away, isolates himself even further, continues to spiral down this lonely pit of utter self-destruction, because he believes every word Zane tells him. He’s furious, he’s grieving, he’s depending on Zane as his only direction left, the only family and home and love he could ever have left, like a dog licking for love off of knives. Not because he doesn’t actually give much of a shit about Laurance and Aphmau, but because he loves them so fucking much. Because he can’t imagine any other life without them, and he’s furious that they burned that to shreds in front of his eyes, because goddamn it they were all he had. He’s angry that they didn’t seem to love him as much as he loved them, and now he has to settle for his worst nightmare, because his executioners and abusers are the only ones who actually want him in their grasp. And if no one else will hold him, then he might as well settle for the embrace of his killers. And that’s horrible, that’s unfair, that’s unjust, that’s wrong, but it’s all he has now. And that’s why the moment Laurance starts confronting him like he cares about him, starts breaking down the manipulation Lillian and Zane fed to him and indirectly proving to him that, oh, wait, they do care about him, wait, they do want him back and in their lives, and he realizes the mistake he’s made.

And that’s why he immediately turns on Zane and starts fighting him instead, dedicating the rest of his life to undoing the damage he’s done by saving his loved ones and fending off Zane. The real reason why Laurance gets through to him, and why he feels like he needs to sacrifice his life for them, and why he finally fucking tells Aphmau how much he loves her. And oh, god, how much that means for him to say.

Ok i’ll flesh out the details of that and work that into something way more closely aligned with canon when we actually get to those scenes, but like. i need you guys to realize something lol. I went on this journey to better understand the relationship dynamics of Garmau, Garrance, and Laurmau so I’d feel more comfortable rewriting my MCD rewrite fic to include more of them, yes, but I also went on this journey purely just to convince myself to actually like MCD Garroth Ro’meave. Before this point, with this Laurance screenshot forcing me to rethink everything, I was a bigtime MCD!Garroth hater. I have despised him up to this point. And all of that just changed my mind completely. I chained myself by the wrists to forcibly hold myself in Garroth Appreciation Purgatory until I reconsidered how I felt about him and Understood why MCD!Garroth was so widely beloved by the community. Until I knew every way he ticked and every way he thought and everything he ever felt, in hopes of convincing myself to appreciate him too, and my plan has succeeded. I have switched sides. I am a Garroth fanboy now. I get it now. I Understand him. I can finally unlock my chains and frolic here freely from this point onwards. I have learned to love my domesticated dog-coded boy who definitely listens to too much fuckin mitski. I get it now. you have no idea how much fucking work I’ve been doing to stay as impartial and nice and respectful with his character as possible lmao, I have had to step back and take breaks from how angry he was making me and now I am free. now i am. liberated. now i am. homosexual

No but genuinely I thought he only betrayed them because he was a bitchy jackass manchild crying over losing the dumbass game he’d literally been agreeing to play this entire time, but he didn’t end up having the emotional maturity or the balls to handle actually “losing.” guys I thought he was just a misogynistic possessive piece of shit crying over literally nothing of meaningful value and actively, spitefully, pettily choosing to burn it all to the ground, despite the mounds of logical evidence against his entire argument. i thought he was a fucking asshole this entire time. thats why I kept insisting he was a bitch and a prideful piece of shit. now I need to rethink everything. Disregard (almost) everything critical or deprecating i have said about Garroth Ro’meave before this point, I am wiping the slate clean, I am starting over with new lenses, and I will do my boy better proper justice now, i. i need to reassess everything now. goddamn it

I would like to return to a previous question I proposed about “How does Garroth feel about Aphmau exactly?” And answer part of it. And it’s the question I posed of, “is he truly more of a servant at his core, a loyal and domesticated obedient dog to those he idolizes and loves dearly? or does he harbor a dark side underneath, of the cruel and corrupt king that’s run by his pride, who wishes to possess and own all things as he desires and is petty and backhanded and cold?” And now that I see him more clearly—the answers entirely and absolutely the former. He is a servant. He is desperately begging for affection wherever he can get it, as silently as he can. If he has any Evil King bone in his body, there’s only like. one of them, and it’s outvoted every time by the hoard of other bones in his body that would cry if he accidentally stepped on his dog’s paw. The latter is a cool idea for an au, the former is closest to canon. In my opinion. My ever-shifting and evolving opinion.

When Garroth is upset and heartbroken, he listens to mitski. When Laurance is upset and heartbroken, he listens to The Neighborhood. I don’t know what Aaron listens to, but I feel like he’d listen to something from the old era of rock. But I’m not familiar with that genre at all, so old rock fans will have to fill in the gaps for me there

I know I said I’d go until the image limit, but oh my god I’ve written so much and I think I have at least 11 or 10ish more images/scenes to go. I’m so fkin tired. believe it or not I do in fact have a yapping capacity LOL

Before I fuck off to continue in a part 3, I want to leave you guys with just a fun little factoid of semi-canon information:

Garroth’s a lot like Fluttershy, Laurance is a lot like Rainbow Dash, and Dante is like Applejack, in Jess’s mind. Now, mind you, I have much more complicated opinions on what pony Aphmau is most like that im still working out, and personally I feel like it’s stupid and inane to only pick her pony based entirely and only off of the idea of “is it purple” and I feel like after reading all of this you would be able to tell exactly why im the kind of person who doesn’t like basic, surface-level character choices LOL, but atm im fighting somewhere between “aphmau is a LOOOOT like pinkie pie in personality” vs “oh but MCD!Aphmau specifically and uniquely shares a lot of the leadership and anxiety and some minute character details that Twilight Sparkle has, plus twi is purple” vs “I should examine the side/supporting/background cast of MLP:FiM to search for The Perfect Match for Aphmau because none of the mane 6 quite fit her perfectly exactly” so yaknow. it’s whatever. Rarity isn’t even an option I would consider for Aphmau. Rarity is Cadenza, Cadenza is Rarity, and that’s that lmao. Garroth = Fluttershy and Laurance = Rainbow Dash and Garrance = Flutterdash, and im very happy with that

But Zane is Princess Luna. Zane is in every conceivable way an exact replica of Princess Luna. Zane is Luna. End of story

[wizkiddx]

bringing him home

complete fluff, sad lando, and not proofread so apologies x

Not to be dramatic but Lando was done. He’d had a crappy weekend of bad luck, damage, bad strategy and also (he would admit) a bad performance. It was the second last race before summer break, which couldn’t possibly come soon enough. 

He felt guilty. Felt guilty he couldn’t of performed more for the team; guilty he let his frustatration show on radio; guilty he’d been in a crap mood and not let the team even try to pick; guilty that he couldn’t let himself sleep on the plane.

It was a form of self torture. But he couldn’t stop.

He had been short with everyone, but especially Jon- who he knew was only ever trying to look out for him. All he really wanted to do was to get home and crash in bed for some more self loathing.

Mumbling a few quick goodbyes to the part of the team on the same flight as him, Lando swiftly turned his back on his friends to make his usual route.

Landing at Heathrow meant he had his usual, lone wolf routine to get back home. A guy he had known for years - Waleed- would pick him up.

Back when Lando lived in Woking, Waleed had been hired by mclaren to drive him to all the events his calendar was packed with. They had a mutual respect for each other but Waleed was a man of few words. Which right now Lando felt like he needed, a familiar face asking how he was might be enough to send the young man over the edge. 

Car park 2, floor 4, bay number 168. 

That’s where he was off to.

Waleed always came to pick him up from Heathrow. When it was good, Lando would invite a few team members of the preorganised coach to join him. And when it was like it was today, Lando would have only his own company to deal with. 

It wasn’t even home anymore, the young driver lived in Monaco and purely came back for mclaren and for social reasons. And right now he fancied neither. 

But duty called.

Cautiously, not to bring about any attention, Lando peeled off from the large group of mclaren workers who were on their way to the coach stop. With his hood up, shoulders hunched and staring at the ground as much as possible he thankfully didn’t garner any attention. He knew this route like clockwork- down the elevators and across the walkway to the multi-storey; get the lift up four floors and walk left to the back corner. 

Everything felt heavy as he dragged his notoriously over packed suitcase across the smooth tarmac. He just wanted bed.

But as he rounded the corner his mood only got stormier. Waleeds car was definetely not around. Instead parked in his space was a beat up black small car. Grumbling to no one in particular, Lando got out his phone to question Waleed - who was normally very prompt and reliable. 

Before he could though, the slam of a car door shutting directed his attention back to the space he was wishing Waleed was in.

“Car park 2, go to level four , park in bay 168. You don’t make this easy do you?” 

Yes it was sarcastic, but I’m the softest,caring and most gentle way. And Lando felt everything in his body and mind sag, with a familiar sigh.

“I got the afternoon off work, so I guess I turned up.” Lando still stood still, a confused look demonstrating to Y/n she needed to explain. “Max texted me and I think Jon told him you weren’t feeling great. Unfortunately, Max said you were now my problem so…” 

Of course, Jon had told on him. And of course, especially after their little ‘manly’ heart to heart a week or so ago, Max had decieded Y/n was actually the greatest comfort to him. 

“is…is it ok that I’m here? I didn’t want to presume but Max-“ she was inturrupted as Lando started taking great strides and threw his arms round her shoulders.

He didn’t verbally reply, instead nodding into her neck and then pulling her impossibly closer, which she assumed to be a sign he were getting a bit emotional. So she just stayed, hugging him tightly back in return.

Her insecurity was not without reason. Lando and y/n had known each other for years, but only got close and started dating 3 months ago. It had been an immediate perfect fit and felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

But this was the first time she was being exposed to his incredibly vulnerable side, and Y/n did not take this lightly. Especially given the fact he hadn’t really had a choice.

After what was probably not more than 30 seconds, Lando muttered a ‘thankyou’ and pulled away so they were face to face. Only then did y/n really see just how exhausted he looked. The normally glowing, tanned skin was abnormally pale and almost clammy. Unsurprisingly his eyes were sunken in- but worse was sort of dullness of his usually brilliant green eyes. He was more than just tired, he was mentally checked out too. 

“Get inside, left the heater on” she smiled warmly before pressing a quick peck to his lips. Following the instructions almost too well, Lando completely failed to remember his suitcase, which still stood aimlessly in the middle of the car park - from where he had first seen his girlfriend. With a sad sigh Y/n walked back to grab it - placing it in the boot before rounding the car to the drivers side. 

“So, we can go wherever you like. Max said Bristol, said your mums keen to see you.” Lando looked motionless at that, so Y/n attempted another option. “ Or you’re welcome at mine, or we could just got the hotel mclaren booked for you?” Impossibly, Y/n saw his face fall further at the last option, which she quickly crossed off her mental list. 

“‘m just really glad you’re here… wanna be with you.”  He kind of looked embarrassed, fiddling with his fingers as he muttered those words - not appreciating the way Y/n started glowing with warmth to it. 

“I’m by your side no matter what… you deciede where you want us to be for these few days.” 

Admittedly Y/n hadn’t planned such a sad way for her to meet Landos family, but they were serious enough that it was only a matter of time, so why not in hsi hour of need? She also firmly believed being around more people who knew him and could comfort him through it all. And, by the way he talked about them, Y/n wasn’t particularly scared to meet them - they all sounded lovely. She just wanted them to like her. 

“You’ll come to my parents?”

“If thats where you want to be then yes, of course I will. “ Lando nodded and tears started to water, just from how overwhelming the weekend had been compared to how impossibly calm he felt now just because Y/n was with him. 

She’d been prepared for this eventuality after Max described just how bad a state Lando appeared to be in, a little overnight bag and Max’s ‘shortcut’ way to get to the Norris family house avoiding the rush hour traffic. When Y/n held Landos eye contact long enough for him to know she was sincere, Lando leaned over the centre console to hug her tightly once again. 

“I’m really really glad its you here.” He wasn’t evn sure if she coulf hear it- but of course Y/n heard. 

“I’m telling Waleed you said that”

Even when he felt thihs exhausted, self-defeated and shitty, Y/n could make him laugh. He pulled back and just watched as Y/n turned the key in car, then started fiddling with her phone. 

“Right my playlist cos i’m driving and I want no complaints ok?” She shot him a fake serious scowl, before reversing out of the space. 

Lando just watched, watched the way she darted her eyes to the rear view mirror every two seconds  as thought she was taking her driving test again. And the way she bit the right side of her lip as she wound her way through the tighter exit ramps of the car park. And the way her fourth finger tapped to the beat of the Bruno Major song playing - such a small movement even Y/n probably hadn’t noticed she was doing it. Even to her crappy music. 

He was only caught out in his staring later, when her little 11 year old vw polo merged onto the motorway towards his childhood home. Predictably she blushed, rolling her eyes at him, whilst remaining lazar-like focus on the road in front. 

“Stop staring  creep.” He didn’t to that statement, choosing to start his own conversation.

“I really love you, you know that?”

“Of course I do, and I love you more.” Uncharacteristically for her normal driving to the rule book, Y/n took one hand off the wheel and rested it on the centre console - holding out for her boyfriends back. “Now, try get some rest hey? I promisse to try and not crash the car while you sleep.”

“I’ve never felt less relaxed.”

But, of course, he was joking and after an 18 hour journey of the equivalent of tossing and turning in an airplane seat, it took all of 5 mins in the safe and warm atmosphere of his girlfriends car to nod off. 

Because for the first time in a couple of weeks Lando was truly comfortable squeezed into the miniature car to the tune of an artist he normally hated. 

[supernaturalgirl20]

I’ve got Joel living rent-free in my head, too.

Can I get something where Joel takes up for reader, and puts an idiot in his place for disrespecting his girl?

I’ve loved Joel from the game but the way Pedro plays him has me 🫠😍. Thank you for the request my love, gotta love a protective Joel. Hope you enjoy 😉

Someday

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, cursing, mentions of prostitution, possessive Joel, feelings but no feelings.

A/N: requests still open for Joel Miller 🥰

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

You can’t remember how it started exactly. Or when for that matter. All you do know is that it was a mutual agreement to keep it business-like. 

An outlet for you both to get some relief when the strain of this new life took its toll. Or when either one of you had an itch to scratch. Joel didn’t do feelings, and that was ok because neither did you or at least you didn’t. Now though, those lines are beginning to blur and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to hide it from him. 

You knew if he ever found out, he’d run. He’d shut himself off from you and your heart would break. So, you don’t kiss when you fuck, don’t hold each other after and you don’t stay the night. 

At least you didn’t. Now though, everything has changed. 

***

You can feel his gaze on you from where he stands, leaning against the brick wall near the alleyway. He’d insisted that you weren’t going alone, especially not after what happened with Tess. 

No amount of protesting on your part could change his mind. Joel Miller was a stubborn man and while most of the time you admired him for it, right now, you wanted to punch him. 

Mack, one of Roberts's lackeys, was sitting across from you with a sick sinister smirk on his face as his gaze drifted from you to Joel. “Couldn’t haven’t left your guard dog at home?” His head tilts in Joel’s direction and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose trying to remain calm. 

Trying hard not to punch this idiot in the fucking face. “Listen, are you interested or not? There are other smugglers in this area that I could go to.”

He sneers, leaning back in his chair with his arm slung across the thigh. “Oh, I’m interested all right, but not in your ration cards. Was thinking maybe you’d give me a go of that pussy? I mean if it’s good enough for Joel fucking Miller, it’s good enough for me.” 

Your stomach churns at the thought of this man with his hands all over you, you’d rather get killed by a clicker but then you let your gaze flicker to the man you’ve come to love. His face hardened into an almost permanent scowl and how you’d give anything for him to have a small bit of happiness.

“Say I agree,” you say, voice low, hoping that Joel can’t make out what you're talking about. “I want the battery first. In perfect working condition or the deal is off.” 

Mack sits up, his face a mixture of shock and delight at the prospect of getting his hands on you. “Damn, I gotta say I didn’t think you’d go for it. Then again, you ain’t nothin’ but a cheap whore…”

“The fuck you just say?” 

You can see the fear creeping quickly into Mack’s face as he stares behind you to the source of the deep husky voice. Your gaze drifts upwards to find Joel standing directly behind you, his face stern and filled with rage. 

“Now I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, Joel, I was just playing is all.” Mack gulps nervously as he quickly stands, his chair falling onto the ground as he holds his hands up in surrender.

Joel steps forward but before he can get anywhere near Mack, you grab a hold of his arm pulling him back. His eyes drift to yours, his eyebrows furrowed in question before they drop to where your hand is touching him. 

“Leave it, please,” you plead, and his gaze meets yours once again. 

“Yeah, you heard her, leave it. Besides, she offered first.” Mack is slowly backing up but a growl rises from deep within Joel’s chest and he falters.

“What the fuck is he talk in’ about?” His eyes are boring into you, and you silently curse Mack and his big fucking mouth. “It’s nothing ok, just leave it. Let’s go.”

“No.” His voice is harsh and angry as he pulls out of your grasp turning his attention back to Mack. “What do you mean she offered first?” 

“Told her I’d get her the car battery if she let me fuck her. She was gonna do it too. I mean I gotta hand it to ya, having two women on the go, you must be doin’ somethin’ right. The least you could do is pimp them out, make a living.” 

Mack continues on his tangent, and you can see Joel getting angrier and angrier, his fists clenching at his sides but it isn’t until Mack calls you a dirty whore that he loses it. 

Joel lunges at him, his fist connecting with Mack’s jaw knocking him on his ass. The squeal of pain that he emits as blood gushes from his nose draws the attention of some people and you pray you can stop Joel before a FEDRA agent arrives. 

He continues to punch him over and over until Mack apologises to you. “Joel, please. Please we gotta go, he isn’t worth it.”

You plead over and over but it doesn’t get through, not until you place your hand on his shoulder and then his eyes turn to you. “Let’s go home.”

He looks back down at Mack and whispers something in his ear before he stands letting the man go. Turning to you he huffs out a breath in frustration, his face stern and nostrils flaring. Then he turns, grabs your wrist in his hand and pulls you along behind him back to his apartment. 

The door closes with a bang, and he marches over to the kitchen, grabs a glass and his god-awful whiskey and pours himself a drink before downing it. The glass bangs on the table as he finishes.

You just stand there staring, hands wringing nervously as you take in the tension of his shoulders. “Joel.”

“Don’t!” He barks, his gaze turning towards you. “What the fuck were you thinkin’? Were you really gonna whore yourself out for the battery?” His voice is laced with anger as he steps towards you. 

“I-I was just…. look it’s only sex. It wouldn’t have meant anything. Besides, it would have gotten you the battery and you could finally get out of here and find Tommy.” You turn away ashamed you had even considered it.

“And you thought I’d be ok with that, did ya? Thought I’d want to share what’s mine?” His voice breaks at the end, the hint of softness creeping in. 

You turn to face him and startle at how close he’s gotten. Your eyes meet and for a brief moment, the world stops. You can’t hear your own breathing your heart is thundering against your chest so damn hard. 

There’s a tension in the air and you feel something shift between you. His eyes drift briefly down to your lips before your gaze meets again. He steps closer. Invading your space and filling all your senses with him. 

He smells like the bar of soap that you spent weeks trying to save for, that hint of citrus invading your senses and reminding you of the time before the world went to shit. He smells of sweat and dirt and that nasty whiskey he drinks every night. 

He smells like home. Or as close as you’ll ever get to one now. His arm slides along the curve of your hip coming to rest on the small of your back, palm outstretched as he pulls you into him. 

Your hand rests on his chest and you can feel his heart beating fast beneath it. You want to ask what he’s thinking. Or why he reacted the way he did but you don’t get the chance when his lips crash suddenly into your own. 

It’s hot and frantic and his hand is gripping your hip tightly while the other grips you around the neck pulling you impossibly close as his mouth devours you. 

You almost buckle when his tongue licks along the seam of your bottom lip, begging for entry and he groans lewdly when you open up to him. 

He lifts you off your feet ever so slightly as he moves around the apartment towards his bed, pushing you back onto it as he stands staring down at you. 

“Take it off,” he commands, his voice raspy and it sends a spark of arousal straight to your core. You quickly remove your underwear and trousers and slide back along the bed. 

“All of it.” 

You raise your eyebrows in question. He wants you naked! You’ve never been fully nude before, not with Joel. He always wants to be prepared to run. He can sense your hesitation. “I won’t ask again, darlin’.”

Lifting your top over your head you fling it onto the ground and your heart flutters nervously as you sit completely bare to him. His eyes rake over your naked curves and he groans, the outline of his cock prominent beneath his jeans.

His hands work off his belt and trousers and you assume he’ll leave it at that but then he grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head tossing it with yours on the floor. 

“Hands and knees, darlin’.” He breathes as he takes his cock in his hand and pumps himself. You don’t waste any time, obeying him immediately. The rough pad of his fingers runs along the smooth skin of your back, and you shudder under his ministrations. 

“I’ll show you, darlin’ whose pussy this is.” His voice is low, and you wonder silently if he meant for you to hear. 

The head of his cock runs along your slick gathering your arousal and your breath hitches when he notches at your entrance and sinks in. 

“God damn. So tight…so wet…always so wet, darlin’. All this for me?” 

You moan into the tattered sheets beneath you as he fucks into you, his pace is brutal as he grips your hips tight.

“Yes.” You cry as you come for the first time, clenching tight around him. 

“Damn straight this is my pussy. MINE! Ya hear. Fuck.” Suddenly he’s pulling out and flipped you into your back as he nestled between your thighs and sank back into your heat. 

His hand grabs your thigh and lifts your leg over his ass as he rolls his hips into you. He’s a little softer this time. His lips caress the skin of your neck and breasts before pulling the bud of your nipple into his mouth. 

His tongue licks in circles around its peak and you arch in response, your body tingling as you come hard again. “Joel.” You whimper and it somehow spurs him on as he begins to pound into you. The makeshift bed squeaked slightly with each thrust. 

“Mine,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. “My lady. My darlin’. And I ain’t…. sharin’. You got that, ever.” His voice becomes raspy and his breathing ragged as he thrusts twice more before quickly pulling out and spilling onto your stomach. 

He leans down and kisses you softly. Once. Twice. Before he pulls away and cleans you up, ordering you to dress again. 

Your heart breaks a little and your stomach feels like you’ve been punched in the gut. He’s kicking you out, again. Why did you think that tonight was any different? That you might actually mean something to him? 

You dress quickly and go to grab your stuff when his hand on your wrist stops you. “Where you goin’?” 

“Back to mine, like always.” He shakes his head and takes the bag from you, placing it on the ground. “I think it’s about time you start livin’ here. Need to start letting those fuckers know you're my lady.” 

“What about Tess?” You ask, voice betraying your jealousy. You think you see the hint of a smirk on his face, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears. 

“She’s a big girl. Besides, she ain’t my girl and she has her own spot. Now come on, darlin’. Let's get some rest.”

***

You brush your fingers gently along the scruff of his cheek and he stirs, a groan slipping from his lips as he seeks you out. The arm that was resting on his chest now slung across your hips, pulling you back into him. 

Joel Miller has a hold on you. One that you cannot explain. One you're not sure even he knows he has on you, and it scares you a little, but if this is all you’ll ever have with him, then you’ll take it.

You’ll take him for all that he is. A shell of the man he once was with no penchant for feelings or emotions other than anger. A man who has suffered too many losses that he has cut himself off from ever being happy.

A man who kills first, asks questions later and protects those he holds dear, fiercely. This is why you want to help him get to his brother Tommy no matter what so that he can have a chance at being happy again. And if nothing else, simply because you love him. 

And maybe he’ll bring you with him?

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @pedr0swh0r3 @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade

[wistfulcynic]

a non-izzy-centric reading of the events of season two

i didn't really want to get into this because it's so, so tiresome and i'd rather talk about the things i loved about this season. Poison, positivity, etc. But.

reading this post about people doubting their own judgement due to the overwhelming noise from Izzy stans along with a rewatch of season two from start to finish made me realise that i too had been influenced by a year and a half of being intensely frustrated by people insisting so loudly that OFMD was in fact the Izzy Hands Show. My initial issues with S2 mostly stemmed from overcompensating for that by resenting any development of Izzy on the screen because i did not want it to feed those people. Which meant that i also was centring Izzy in a way that he should not be centred! i was letting their noise lead me to read him as far more important than he actually is.

So i looked back at several points from the season that had me feeling uncomfortable and which, from a cursory browse through the Izzy tag i've concluded his stans see as a contradiction or a betrayal or something and re-evaluated them from the perspective of Izzy not being a main fucking character.

point one: "He's our dick."

When Archie (a newcomer and therefore a fairly effective audience stand-in for anyone not balls deep in fandom bullshit) asks Jim why they're going to so much trouble for Izzy, who she has immediately clocked as "kind of a dick", Jim gives this response. Which, if you think Izzy is important, may read as an expression of reluctant fondness. But then, Jim continues: "There was a time when life meant something on this ship. When we lived for each other, not just to survive." These lines are punctuated by a flashback to the famous Revenge crew found-family Renaissance-painting moment. Jim is nostalgic for the "good old days" of the Revenge under Stede's people-positive management style. It is out of respect for that (seemingly) lost way of life that they take the trouble for Izzy, not for Izzy himself. They'd have done the same for anyone, because they desperately want life to matter again. Izzy, as the person whose gamy leg is a direct result of his threatening Ed and bringing the kraken era down on all of them, is simply the one whose life happens to be on the line.

(honestly, i love this from Jim, who was one of Stede's boldest detractors in season one and still the crew member most likely to call him out on his bullshit. That's your "reluctant fondness" moment right there.)

point two: the new unicorn

apparently Izzy stans see the gift of the unicorn leg prosthetic as a symbol of deep love and respect from the crew to Izzy. Which is an absolutely wild reading when you look at what led up to it.

There's tension on the ship. Divisions. Lucius is chain-smoking and jump-scared by his own shadow. Jim, Archie, Frenchie, and Fang are overcome by guilt over their mutiny and frantically scrubbing nonexistent blood from the deck in what is a fantastically darkly funny Lady Macbeth moment for them. Izzy is sloppy drunk and yelling nonsensical abuse at the unicorn masthead. Roach, Pete, Oluwande, and Wee John make a well-intentioned but ill-conceived attempt to bring everyone back together (i say "everyone" but Izzy, significantly, is not included) which leads to them all being at each other's throats in the sort of mutually-assured-destruction configuration that starts world wars. It's a great scene. Izzy is not a part of it.

until he interrupts them, throws the unicorn legs at them and in his drunken clumsiness breaks his prosthetic. He then pointedly refuses their offers of assistance and drags himself away along the floor by his arms.

my friends. This is peak pathos. The crew do not respect Izzy in this moment, they feel sorry for him. They realise that he's worse off than any of the rest of them and that knowledge brings them back together. Making the unicorn prosthetic is barely about Izzy at all. It's about the crew coming together, repairing the rifts in their found family and as a bonus helping out their grumpy second cousin who doesn't really want to be there but has nowhere else to go. It's also a very generous offer of a new place on the ship--as the new unicorn--and a fresh start. Because that's what life on the Revenge is. For everyone.

point three: la vie en rose

much has been made of Izzy putting on drag makeup and singing at the Calypso birthday party, and fair enough. That's a big character development point for him. i don't hate it, though i wish there'd been more build-up to it, a longer conversation between Izzy and Wee John at least (insert obligatory "fuck Max" here) but regardless, if we accept Izzy's amputated leg as cutting off his old self and replacing it with the unicorn then we can arrive at a place where he's able to participate in a drag performance without too much cognitive gymnastics.

i've written before about the curious choice to have Izzy sing La Vie En Rose in French (after he initially sang it in English) at the very moment when Ed and Stede are having sex for the first time. On first watch i felt viscerally troubled by it, it felt like a validation of the obsessive psychosexual reading of Izzy's feelings for Ed. Looking at the season as a whole, it feels more like a (cringy, creepy, waaaay over the line) attempt on his part to signal approval for Ed and Stede's relationship. Especially when taken in conjunction with his (super creepy, like wtf who greenlit this) interruption of their breakfast in bed the next morning to make a ham-fisted innuendo. Weird but okay i guess, it's not like Izzy and social niceties have ever gone hand in hand.

many people point to the drag scene as the crew embracing Izzy and welcoming him as one of them. Again, i don't disagree. But, also again, this is not specific to Izzy. This is just what they do. They also embraced Archie with her snake-cult stories, they re-embraced Ed (who yes, they do love, refutations of arguments that they don't love Ed are a whole other essay though) and later they embrace Zheng and Auntie and also Jackie who once stole their savings jar and threatened to cut off their noses. That's what they do! They embrace people! That's what the show is about!

point four: the death scene

i have to be honest, i still hate this. i don't hate that Izzy died, i hate that he died in Ed's arms with Ed calling him his only family. That still feels unearned to me, and alas was probably another victim of the shortened season. But even with this extremely kind and forgiving death scene, the stans are not satisfied! They feel that the entire crew should have been gathered round, assuring Izzy of their profound love for him. There should have been weeping at the funeral, wailing and gnashing of teeth, rending of garments etc. It's what he deserves as such a beloved member of the crew!

except he wasn't beloved. He was accepted, yes. Welcomed, even. But acceptance is a far cry from love. Cheering as someone sings a song at a party does not mean you feel ready to weep at their deathbed or proclaim your undying affection for them.

yet even so, the crew are visibly distraught at his death scene. There are tears in many eyes! But effusive declarations of feeling from any one of them other than Ed would have felt (to anyone not convinced Izzy is the main character) completely wrong and very weird. You can headcanon what you like to fill the gaps in canon but on screen we have seen very few meaningful interactions between Izzy and any of the existing crew aside from Fang and Lucius and to a lesser extent Wee John. Izzy's primary relationship with another character is with Ed and so, as much as i still don't like it, Ed is the only one who has any real reason to be at Izzy's side as he dies.

as for the brevity of the funeral and the fact that they went straight from it to Pete and Lucius's wedding instead of having, idk, a prolonged wake at which everyone speaks at length about how important Izzy was to them, i mean. Obviously that wasn't going to happen. More than enough screen time had already been given to a side character who spent most of it either being miserable himself or making others so. It was time for the rest of them to find some moments of joy. As Izzy himself said, not moving on is worse.

in conclusion, i'd like to address the people saying that Izzy should have lived so he could continue his arc of self-discovery and sure, that would have been great--on the Izzy Hands Show. But OFMD is about Ed and Stede and Izzy had served his purpose in their story. i feel certain there will be copious fanfics to soothe anyone who feels Izzy was shortchanged.

on the show, though, he was treated in a very logical and foreseeable way as the antagonist who was able to see the light at the end but not necessarily to thrive in such a well-lit environment. Literature (by which i mean also films and tv) abounds with examples of this sort of character. They see the error of their ways but they are too stuck in them, shaped by them, to exist comfortably in any other way. They help bring about change to benefit others and not for themselves, that is the bittersweet beauty of their endings.

Izzy let Ed go. He embraced the softer parts of himself. He died surrounded by people who may not have loved him but at least accepted him as one of their own and felt genuine sorrow about his passing. That is a satisfying narrative end for a reformed antagonist! If you truly feel that he was shortchanged by it then you have forgotten what show you're watching and what sort of character he was.

Izzy Hands: not the main character, still an interesting one, absolute nightmare, what a guy.

[silverfoxstole]

in the interest of feeding my developing celebrity crush on Paul McGann, what other movies of his do you recommend?

These are personal preferences but:

Sweet Revenge, a two-part drama in which Paul plays a university professor who arranges paybacks in his spare time (Part One) (Part Two)

Perplexed Music is a short film written and directed by Paul’s brother Mark and also features his younger son, Sonny. Paul plays a widower coming to terms with his loss.

I’ve always been fond of short-lived series Fish, where Paul is an employment lawyer struggling to cope with raising his son on his own after his wife goes off to ‘find herself’.

Give Us A Break, a very early role, a comedy drama series co-starring with Robert Lindsay. Here he’s the younger brother of ducker and diver Lindsay’s girlfriend, who turns out to be good at snooker, something Lindsay decides to try and make use of. Probably the most Scouse you’ll hear Paul on screen!

Paper Mask Hospital porter wants to be a doctor. It does not go well.

Luther Not to everyone’s taste and some episodes are rather unpleasant (3 and 5 of the first series) but I want to take Mark North home.

Withnail and I, of course; every Paul fan needs to see it at least once! (No active link for this one that I can find right now)

If you fancy a documentary, Victorian Sensations: Decadence and Degeneration is a strange but compelling watch, and one that Paul presents rather than just narrates.

And here he is talking about Hornblower

@prydon made a filmography masterlist (from which some of these links have been gratefully taken) which is well worth a look. His CV tends to range through Great, Good, WTF did I just watch? and Oh, dear God, why?! but I can also recommend Our Mutual Friend, Forgotten and Poirot: Sad Cypress. I know other people would say you should definitely see The Monocled Mutineer and The Hanging Gale (the latter stars all four McGann brothers) but I personally found those two too depressing to watch more than once. Horses for courses.

Whatever you choose, enjoy! 😀

[prettygirl-gabi]

Home

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Rating: General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, Mutual Pining

Category:F/M

Fandom:

Relationships:!idol Woozi x !f plus-size baker Reader

Summary: You're the embodiment of home to the grumpiest man you know, but why?

Trope: hates everyone but you

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Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the seventh installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

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It's funny how love finds its way into the most unexpected corners of our lives, like flour dust settling into every crease on a well-loved baking sheet.

Take Woozi, for example. Known for his grumpy demeanor and an attitude that screams "leave me alone," especially when he's in the zone creating music. He’s not someone you'd think would charm many hearts, especially not someone like me, a plus-size girl who loves the warmth of an oven and the sight of a perfectly risen cake. But for some reason, he'd always hated everyone—except me.

From the first time we met, I sensed a different kind of vibe from him. As if behind those narrow, focused eyes, behind the slightly upturned lips that hardly ever smile, there was something just for me. Of course, I'd never admit that out loud. What if I was wrong? What if those stolen glances and the occasional shared joke were just figments of my hopeful imagination?

But today was different. Today, I was going to test this theory. Today, I invited Woozi over to bake with me.

The doorbell rings, cutting through the sweet aroma of vanilla and cinnamon already filling my kitchen. I wipe my hands on my apron, a silly one with a cartoon cat saying, "Bake the world a better place," and answer the door. There he stands, looking unusually casual in jeans and a hoodie, balancing a box of strawberries and a quart of cream in the crook of his elbow.

"Hey, you managed to survive my complicated directions," I tease, stepping aside to let him in.

"I have a GPS, Y/N. It's not 1970," he retorts with a small, almost imperceptible smirk. It's moments like these that fuel my suspicion that beneath that tough exterior, there lies a heart that beats just a bit faster for me.

We find ourselves in my cozy kitchen, the counter already laden with ingredients and bowls. It’s a modest space, but it’s the heart of my home, adorned with hanging copper pots, whimsical mugs, and a couple of photos pinned to a corkboard.

"So, what's the plan, Master Baker?" Woozi asks, placing the strawberries and cream next to the other ingredients.

"You, my dear sous-chef, are going to help me make strawberry shortcake," I say, handing him an apron that reads, "Mr. Good Lookin' is Cookin'."

"Seriously?" He snorts, holding the apron at arm's length. "You're ridiculous, Y/N."

"But you love it," I challenge, raising an eyebrow. To my surprise, he ties the apron around his waist without another word.

We start mixing the ingredients, working a studio," I say, as I knead the dough.

"I can bake, I just choose not to," he replies, focused on slicing the strawberries. His fingers work deftly, and I can’t help but admire their grace. "Why do you think I agreed to come here?"

"Because I'm amazing company and you were dying to spend some quality time with me," I joke, though I hope some part of it rings true.

"Ha, you wish gum drop. I just had today off." He said with a wink before shaking his head. "No I actually wanting to hang out wthyou seriously, and free food." He says with the most sincere tone in his voice.

It’s not long before the conversation mellows into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the clink of bowls, the hum of the refrigerator, and the occasional bubbling laugh when flour puffs out too forcefully from the bag.

As we're readying the dough for the oven, I find my eyes wandering over to him more than I intend. There's a delicate smudge of flour adorning his cheek, and I can't resist.

"Hey, Jihoon," I call out, a devilish grin playing on my lips. As he turns, I swipe a fingerful of flour across his nose.

He freezes, blinking rapidly before staring down at me, speechless. I burst into laughter, but it’s short-lived as he dips his own fingers into the flour bag.

"Oh, it's on," he declares, before flicking a generous pinch of flour back at me. It catches in my hair and eyelashes, sending me into another fit of giggles.

We’re immersed in a full-blown flour fight within seconds, laughter echoing off the kitchen walls. He’s surprisingly quick, dodging and weaving with the agility of someone much nimbler. But I hold my own, scattering handfuls of flour at him, my cheeks burning from too much laughter.

Our cat-and-mouse game eventually leads to us standing face-to-face, breathing heavily, both coated in a fine layer of white. His eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen, a hint of playful mischief lingering in those normally serious depths.

"Truce?" I whisper, holding up my hands.

"Truce," he nods, but neither of us moves away. Instead, he reaches up, his thumb gently brushing flour off my cheek. The touch, though small, sends an electric shock straight to my heart.

"There's something I’ve wanted to ask you," he says softly, his thumb lingering on my skin.

My heart skips. "What’s that?"

"Why is it," he begins, his voice barely a murmur, "that out of all the annoying people in the world, I don’t hate you, hmm?"

I laugh softly, though the weight of his words trembles through me. "Maybe because I'm not annoying?"

"No," he shakes his head, taking a step closer. "It's because you’re the only one who makes me feel... home. Like this kitchen. Warm, inviting, and...not alone."

My breath hitches at his confession, my own feelings bubbling to the surface. "Jihoon... you too. You’re the only one I feel genuinely comfortable with."

For a moment, time suspends itself, the only witnesses to our silent heartbeats being the butter-drenched dough and sliced strawberries waiting nearby.

Then, as if connecting the dots of a long-unread map, Woozi leans in, his lips brushing mine softly. It’s brief, almost hesitant, but it speaks volumes of unspoken emotions. When he pulls away, his eyes search mine for any sign of regret, but all he finds is a reflection of his own longing.

"Thanks for the flour fight," he gently pulls away resting his forehead against mine and whispers, a genuine smile breaking his usually stoic face. "And the baking."

"Anytime," I reply, my heart glowing brighter than the kitchen lights. "Welcome home, Woozi."

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‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

Dividers : by ioveartfilm