#part of the story is him growing as a person and a father because FUCK CANON LET THEM BE HAPPY!!!!

[hearts401]

Pitdad will is so silly. I think the Afton kids are younger when it happens (I’d make mike twelve at most with Liz and Evan being 6 and 7 respectively… weh

[pomefioredove]

Imagine the overbloat gang as fathers or like proud/panicking that their s/o is having a child and they don't know what to do

Imagine the gang trying to give their kids a goid life and getting baby fever like who wouldn't because the kid is literally a mixed of him and you and they gush about how much they love their s/o and children like ???????

Overbload gang as fathers and i will start violently sob

I do have a weakness for familial headcanons :) future au time??

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ as fathers

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral (no mentions of the child's origins), reader is not specified to be yuu, obviously takes place in the future

I think Riddle is one of the most reluctant to have children

for years he was strictly against them. his excuses were always that children are messy, unruly, his career, his relationship with you... but he was mostly just afraid of turning into his mother

as he gets older and forms his own identity, though, he realizes that it takes a lot of intentional effort to fuck up a child like his mom did, and he changes his mind

I can see him with... maybe two kids

he would never want an only child. after all, the bonds he made with his peers are what kept him going

he is a pretty good parent overall. maybe a little to focused on bedtimes and table manners, but the kids don't seem to mind

Trey and Che'nya babysit often (and it's always disastrous)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

talking Leona into the idea of fatherhood is like diffusing a bomb with a blindfold on. the guy won't even JOKE about it

if you do end up with a kid, it's unplanned, whether that be pregnancy or baby left on the doorstep

but he makes a surprisingly(?) good father. defo a girl dad, he would spoil a daughter rotten. lets her beat the daylights out of Neji because that's his little princess :)

parenting is really not as scary as he thought it was going to be

he has "I'm just resting my eyes" *falls asleep for 8 hours on the reclining chair in the living room* dad energy

the hardest part?

pretending to like vegetables in front of the kid to set a good example

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul would actually be an awesome dad idc. IDC!

he has a good relationship with his mom and stepdad (who definitely babysit all the time; they insist on it), so he has good role models

he's not even worried about how it'll affect his career! Azul has a "do it all" personality: businessman, entrepreneur, father, aspiring millionaire...

and he is so overprotective

he'd cover that kid in bubble wrap if you'd let him

but he's really more concerned about their feelings. sending them to school is much harder than closing a business deal

he's a little sensitive, but he knows he'll have to trust them eventually

P.S. the tweels are NOT allowed to babysit. bad influences

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil. ohhh Jamil :(

kids were never on the table for him, even after he met you and fell in love, he just... couldn't imagine it

regardless of whether or not he and his family are in a better place. (for the sake of this story, let's pretend they are. I want him to be happy) he just has so much generational trauma that he knows the child will end up with some, anyway

when, if, he's ready, it will still be a tough process. but worth it

he's such a supportive dad. bragging about his child at any chance, definitely the kind of dad to show everyone the baby pictures without being asked

it gets embarrassing for them as they grow, but he doesn't care

he thinks they're the greatest thing ever, and people should know that!

he is so proud

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil had always wanted to play a father on screen, but once he hits that age, he starts thinking about real life, too

he's gotten where he wants to be, after all: he's still young, he's in love, and his career, as successful as it is, is starting to wind down. so, why not?

he is the most supportive partner you could ask for. despite his schedule, he's involved in everything (yes, even the messy stuff)

he's got a customized baby bjorn and everything

I can see him with... one. just one is enough for him. he also has girl dad energy. he's already looking forward to playing princesses and letting her do his makeup (terribly, of course)

he knows his child will grow to have their own wants and thoughts and personality, and he's supportive. besides, if he has another Epel on his hands, he'll know how to handle them

just... gentler, this time

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

for you, anon, I will enterain the idea that Idia may someday reproduce. but there's still a 50% chance that kid is a robot

joking (kind of)

I don't think he'd even really want kids. considering his own unhappy childhood and the whole curse of his bloodline thing. but, like the others, he can be convinced!

I think he'd make a pretty good father, tbh. neurotic, sure, but he's not too clingy, nor too distant

whatever kids he has will be smart, and he trusts them. he likes teaching them nerdy stuff, too (finally, someone he can infodump to!!!)

he probably ends up with more than he'd think. 2 or 3

as long as you never bring up how cringe he was in college, he's rather mature and prepared for anything

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

out of the whole lineup, Malleus is the the only one to have thought your future children while at NRC. daydreamed, really

I know, not surprising. look at the guy. he's practically kicking his legs back and forth while coming up with baby names in game

it was just a fantasy at first, then you became closer, graduated, got older, and...

Lilia began teasing him about getting grandkids, and Malleus took him quite seriously

he knows he's still young (though, at his age, Lilia was already general), but he doesn't want to wait forever. you both have many long talks on the matter

and end up with... as many children as you can handle, basically

Malleus is somewhat of an awkward father (having been raised by Lilia will do that to you)

but he cares. and he tries! very hard. plus, there's always Lilia, Silver, and Sebek around to lend a hand

[gotskamstuff]

My heart is actually breaking for JJ!!

We already saw throughout this season how he was struggling to adapt to their new life with money and how his first gut instinct was of pure panic just thinking that he was gonna become a Kook and that money would change who he is, but now he also found out not only that Luke is not his father…but he actually is the heir of a Kook family, JJ is the heir of the whole of Goat Island!

It already breaks my heart because it’s obvious now that the lash out he has in part 2 (the clips from the trailer where he goes apeshit destroying everything) comes AFTER this discovery which is most likely gonna cause some major spiraling from him and he’s gonna be in a fucked up mental state when we pick up on the story again.

And to be fair who can blame him? He basically just found out that his whole life was a lie, his identity JJ Maybank doesn’t even exist and he is a whole other person: Jackson Groff, a child who was believed to be missing/dead for 19 years.

This also makes JJ’s story and the life he lived growing up 10 times even more devastating.

He grew up in abuse and neglect when all along he had a better life waiting for him and that he was stripped away from, he grew up with traumas that were never real and he was gaslighted to believe: I mean, he lived his entire life believing that his own mother abandoned him as a choice and never cared for him (and developing a fear of abandonment) to then find out that his mother died when he was barely days old and he almost died with her.

He grew up under the same roof of an alcoholic “father” who physically and mentally abused him with no regard, a “father” who neglected him to the point that JJ had to work multiple jobs as a teen just to survive and being stripped of his childhood, a “father” who left him homeless and put JJ in the position to spend days of life without food struggling to afford a meal…and all along his biological father was right there, on the other side of the marsh living in lavish in his family’s mansion, knowing that his child was living in the Cut with an abusive drug addict.

There’s so much devastating information to digest all at once for him: his identity being a lie, his mom never being the woman who abandoned him, his real mom being dead, the abuser that raised him (or better neglected him) having no blood ties at all with him wasting his life away, his real dad and only biological parent alive living all along next to him in riches, the fact that his entire life could’ve been so different from the one he lived and without abuse, AND ON TOP OF EVERYTHING HE JUST FOUND OUT HE IS THE LAST SURVIVING MEMBER OF A FAMILY WITH A DEATH CURSE!!!

He’s gonna spiral so badly and again, who can blame him?

This also makes his found family with the Pogues and his relationship with Kie so much more special, at this point they are the only thing that remains real in his life and the only thing that can still ground him to the person he is. The only truth.

It seemed almost impossible for JJ’s story to get even more tragic and yet it just did! 💔

[hellishjoel]

ungodly and unprofessional

5.6k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog

summary: who said anything about falling in love? you're just co-workers. warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), smoking, descriptions of food and drink, reader is described to have hair (not descriptive of what color/length/etc.) and wears a waitress uniform, explicit smut, consensual somnophilia, swearing, pet names, allusions to bad parenting/parental abuse, descriptions of a parent abusing drugs and alcohol (please heed these warnings and do not read if you are concerned these may be triggers), lastly not beta'd (lmk if you're interested!) A/N: five or six months later, who really knows. believe it or not, I was never not working on this or thinking about it for all of those months... which is crazy. I completely wing these chapters which is probably why it takes so long but you guys don't mind, right? enjoy these cuties falling deeper <3 I almost forgot - shoutout to BistroHuddy on TikTok because one of their segments inspired something in here (but no spoilers!)

“To love someone is firstly to confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy-Ray Belcourt. 

You have this silly poetry book someone gave you as a birthday present or holiday gift exchange a few years ago. You’ve never picked it up until now. You’re shocked to say all of these cheesy love quotes and poems make you think of one very specific person: a guy with dark curls, a scruffy beard, amber eyes, and the perfect smile. Francisco. 

Falling for a man like Frankie feels like growing up— a sign of maturing compared to the ghosts of terrible boyfriend's past. 

Come to find out, it’s easier to go for the wrong guys, easier on your heart in a way — you don’t feel like you are actually losing anything. 

That’s why you would bet on losing dogs. Invest your emotions and need for romance in those who don’t reciprocate. The ones who despise commitment or lack emotional availability leave you in a state of disappointment. 

Better that than full-blown heartache. Better than ripping yourself open at the seams for another, only to be the one to sew yourself back up again. But not better than winning. 

The letter Frankie’s father sent him weeks ago had been burned into your brain. Every single word, each break of a new paragraph, lines of apologies, and convincing stories of ‘the good times’ they used to have. 

Frankie appeared to be just as wary about the letter as you were, neither of you so easily trusting. Frankie didn’t trust his father, but you did trust Frankie—end of story. 

You’ve never known Frankie to be so tightly closed about something that bothers him. He was the type of man who wears his heart on his sleeve, an open book. 

Aside from allowing you to read the letter, you two have barely spoken about it. And not due to your lack of trying. 

There wasn’t a need for you to bring clarity to the situation, it wasn’t up to you to encourage Frankie to allow his father back into his life. But there was still a lot of emotional trauma that he carried that he didn’t have to bear alone. You just wanted him to know that you support him in whatever avenue he decides is best. 

To forgive or to forget. 

Frankie releases a sigh from his parted lips, squeezing his eyes closed tighter as your alarm chimes from your phone on the bedside table. He hates the fucking morning shift. 

The air is sticky and thick, and the fan on his bedroom ceiling is doing little to help. Late August is still taking its toll on Texas and its residents, but he’s reminded that this time last year, he sunk down on his knees in the back kitchen and tasted you on his tongue for the first time. Can’t believe it’s been a year since then. Plus all the events that have transpired since. 

There’s no label between you two other than the fact you are exclusive— putting your focus on each other and not seeing other people. It was good, better than nothing with you. 

His eyelashes finally flutter open, seeing you shift in the dark to turn off the alarm, only to dig your face deep into your pillow. He thinks you’re fucking adorable. 

Frankie is by no means a morning person, but waking up beside you has changed his perspective. Your hair is a scattered mess, the ponytail having fallen loose in the tosses and turns of last night. The sunlight peaking through the blinds highlights the slope of your nose and Cupid’s bow. Arms tucked into your front, leg hiked up like a ballerina.

His mind starts to swirl at the conversation you shared recently, that you wanted to try something… new. To be surprised. To be taken by him in your sleep. 

He was shocked to hear you say it, all shy and meek - it’s not a side of you he sees often. But it’s the vulnerability talking, advocating the trust you share together. 

“I want to wake up with you inside me.”

Frankie had to blink a few times, his large hand cradling your jaw as you spoke in whispers between the sheets. “You— I didn’t know you’d be into that sort of thing.”

“We don’t have to if it’s not your thing. But there’s something about you moving me where you want me to be, being completely under your control, even a little helpless,” you pause, uncertain if your words would scare him off. 

The exact opposite. Frankie was intrigued. 

“The thrill of trying not to wake you up.” He continues, watching your glowing smile return, indicating that Frankie understands why this would feel good to you. 

“My natural reaction, trusting you, knowing that you’ll be careful, knowing that you’re using me— it’s hot, Frankie. You have my consent, I wanna try.” 

Frankie’s stomach churns with excitement, butterflies spreading through his abdomen and up to his chest, his heart thunking eagerly. 

He was slow and methodical, not wanting you to stir from your sleepy state. Nipping at his lower lip, teeth piercing the skin, he works up the courage to touch you. A rough and calloused hand travels up your side, pushing up your sleep tee and watching goosebumps line the tips of his fingers.

Frankie presses slow kisses to the top of your shoulder, feeling his cock swell against the plump of your ass in all of the excitement. He whispers your name, soft and raspy with the morning hour. Other than a small twitch of your nose, you’re out cold. 

“Shh, s’okay angel, m’gonna make you feel good.” The desire stirs in his stomach, urging him to please you in your sleep just like you asked. 

With two crooked fingers, he curls them around the band of your panties and slowly drags them down your soft thighs. You let out a slow sigh between your parted lips, Frankie pausing to watch as you settle once more. 

 Slipping two skilled fingers between your legs, he slowly massages up and down your folds. He’s surprised to already feel the slick between your legs, a low groan of approval leaving the depths of his throat. 

There’s a shift, your hips squirming for more of his touch. You’re so perfectly pliant for him, causing the embers low in his belly to grow with anticipation, the blood rushing to his cock as it hardens against the curve of your ass. 

“Good girl,” he remarks as you let out a little whimper upon the pads of Frankie’s fingers finding your swollen clit. “Even asleep, you’re nice and wet for me, princess.” 

Goddammit, he thinks, how does she have this much of an effect while perfectly asleep? He can’t stand the feeling of not touching her, the carnal need to take her was strong like a magnet, forcing their bodies together. 

One yank and he was out of his briefs, chewing on his lower lip in concentration. He needed to move you, to perfectly fit in the nook of your body, you’d have to be good and yield to him. 

Frankie hikes up your leg and fills in the spaces between your bodies, stroking over himself as he slowly lines his leaking tip along your entrance. Just as he notches his tip inside, a quiet and sleepy gasp leaves your perfect pillowy lips. 

“Right there, baby, you just stay right there for me,” Frankie growls against your ear, his hips flush with yours as he slowly lets inch by inch of him be swallowed by your warm cunt. 

After that, there wasn’t a lot of nicety to him. The level of control he carried was lost. He just wanted to take and take, feel and fuck. He wants to use you like his own personal toy; do whatever he pleases with no resistance. You were his to devour. 

He’s still inside you, but he’s gotten this far, and you’re still out. Even in sleep, you’re pulsing around his cock, so fucking tight around him that it steals the air from his lungs. There’s a hint of discomfort in your face, a quiet gasp held within your expression. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, the hand he holds firmly on your hip now moving under your sleep tee. 

You were so fucking accessible to him, so beautiful, so peaceful being fucked raw. 

He rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, getting the reaction he’s been waiting for all morning. A sweet, slow moan tumbles loose from your throat, your hips reeling back to grind against Frankie’s lap. 

He’s somewhat pleased he knows you this well, knows what gets you worked up and gushing. The fact that even in your sleep, you have this reaction towards him makes the fire burning inside his abdomen grow. Maybe a deep part of him gets off on knowing you so well. 

Frankie lets out a sigh at his own thoughts, lightly nipping the skin of your exposed shoulder as he slowly rolls his hips back and glides in again, feeling the drag of your tight pussy keeping him lubed up and warm.

If he weren’t so desperate to fuck you, he’d love to just sit inside you like this all goddamn day. It would probably give him the same comfort as the first cup of coffee. 

He gives your breast one more firm squeeze before returning the attention back to your clit, all desperate and tingling with each eager circle he gives you. 

“So fucking perfect,” he whispers against your ear, his hips continuing at a steady pace until he simply needs more. He hikes up your leg once again to allow himself more movement, smirking as your ass smacks against the front of his hips with each thrust that now jostles your body. 

You’ll surely wake any moment, shocked and sleepy and startled at his cock so deep inside your perfectly spent cunt. 

You whimper each time he fills you, your face digging into the pillow as you moan against the cover. Frankie’s efforts grow needy and demanding, fisting your hair out of his way as he sucks marks into your neck; teeth and tongue massaging the skin before leaving a bruise in its wake.

A sweet little sob exits your parted lips, Frankie groaning at the pretty little noises you make. 

“Take me so well, princess. You want me to keep fuckin’ you, huh?” He snarls against your neck, smirking as you hiss at the sensations you’re feeling all throughout your body.  

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. They absorb the settings around you and it all clicks. A long, desperate moan crawls from the depths of your throat, your movements sluggish but your hand eventually clasps onto Frankie’s forearm, his fingers still swirling around your clit. 

“Ohmy— Frankie, fuck,” you gasp as you feel the full force of his cock drilling deep inside your pussy. Your voice is still thick with sleep, eyes cloudy with lust, and skin-prickling sensations that you had never felt before; a million emotions, but the standout being desperation to come undone like this with a man you trust. 

“This what you wanted, angel? Wake up with my cock stuffed between your legs?” Frankie smirks as he presses his lips against your cheek, jaw dropping against your own as you ride out the high together. 

You cry out something wrecked, a garble of syllables as your spine arches against his front. You weren’t given the pleasure of feeling the orgasm build and build; you woke up at its high heat. 

In an instant, your skin was clammy, hair sticking to your skin as desperate pants filled the room, along with broken moans of Frankie’s name. 

It’s exactly what you wanted, maybe better. Yes, way better. 

You’re so tight, literally clinging to every single inch he gives you as your slick drenches his cock. Your nails dig into his tan skin, feeling the muscles and tendons work to play with your clit. 

A whimper leaves you as the warmth in your stomach boils over, turning your head over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are dark, cast over with lust as he stole you in your sleep. In an instant, he meets you with a messy kiss, your bodies and the bed still jolting with each rough thrust he gives you. 

“Please,” you moan against his lips, nodding your head as you look into his eyes. “Come inside me, I wanna feel it, please, give it to me, Frankie,” your words turn into a whine as he begins to fuck you harder, deeper, his tip tickling your cervix as you damn near blackout from the pleasure. 

The pleasure inside of you finally reaches the surface. The feeling was like a wave breaching over your rocky shores, washing over you both in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his thick cock. 

Frankie spoils your clit as his hips snap against your ass, one, two, three more times before the feeling of you overcomes him. He braces you tightly in his arms, panting against your shoulder, eyes clenching closed as he lets out broken grunts of release. He paints your insides with his spend, both of you relaxing in one another’s hold as you slowly descend from heaven. 

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie breathes, shaking his head with a tilted smirk. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He remarks as you look over your shoulder in a haze. 

You whimper as you pull him in closer, fingers weaving into the curls at the back of his head and encouraging him to meet your parted lips. 

The words are at the tip of your tongue, and you can feel them spread heat throughout your body. You can hear both of your hearts beating, thundering against the human flesh, and signaling the feeling of being alive. 

Frankie waits for the words. The feeling of anticipation has been lingering for quite some time. Your touch of nervousness was welcome, expected even. A moment in time when your heart feels exposed but also overwhelmingly full. Only hoping that the other person feels the same way, yet uncertain of how they will respond. A game of chicken of who will say it first and who will have to respond. The leap of faith one will be forced to make and the right words the other will have to find.

Both roles are downright frightening. 

You’re risking everything, the biggest gamble one can make without physical currency. 

But he sees the panic behind your eyes, the nervewracking feeling of saying the sacred words to someone, maybe even for the first time. And he knows that they will be worth it to hear. 

“I know,” he whispers against your lips, shaking his head in a way that tells you he knows what you’re thinking. “I know.” 

You don’t attend church, so you have one question: why the fuck is God sending people to get brunch after Sunday’s service? Why is that their beck and call? 

Every Sunday morning, like clockwork, a flock of people flood the diner with their church clothes and a hankering for waffles and Frankie’s house lumberjack skillet (you wanna know what’s in it, don’t you?)

Frankie’s Secret Ingredients:

Potatoes: 1/4 lb (about 4-5 small potatoes)

Olive Oil: 1/2 tablespoon

Breakfast Sausage Links: 3 oz (about 4 links)

Onion: 1/8 of a whole onion, chopped

Red Pepper: 1/4 of a whole red pepper, chopped

Jalapenos: 1/2 jalapeno, sliced (omit if person looks too old to handle)

Butter: 1 tablespoon

Hickory Maple Seasoning: 1/2 teaspoon

Eggs: 2 large eggs

Milk: 1 tablespoon

Cheddar Cheese: 2 tablespoons, shredded

Anyway, Tommy’s Diner is slammed by mid-morning, and you’re working up a sweat. You’re wiping at your neck and forehead every few minutes, and the sun filtering through the windows does little justice to cool your skin. Tina called out sick, which is code for hungover from Saturday. It’s overwhelming. Your brain feels like the scrambled eggs you just plated for that family of four.

“Enjoy,” you whisper a little breathlessly, tucking your notepad into the front of your apron, rubbing at your temple with the heel of your hand as you walk past the rest of your tables. 

By the time you lift your head, you see a large potbelly man who is waving an arm up above his head, fingers already snapping incessantly. He looked like a chubby rat, with a large dark-haired mustache and a shirt that didn’t fully cover the beer gut he was sporting.

“Uhm, hello? Miss, can we get some service over here?” 

Jesus fucking Christ. Your jaw tightens a few notches, pushing your hair out of your face and wrapping around to their table. You remember them; you took their table’s order a bit ago now - shit, did you forget their plates? No, you didn’t. 

Stopping at the head of their table, you smile politely at the large family. 

“Hi, can I get you something while you wait?”

The man scoffs and snaps, “Uh, yeah, our food.”

Taking a deep breath wasn’t enough; you were a ticking time bomb. “Sir, do you see how many people are in the diner? We’re at capacity with a line out the door. I understand you’ve been waiting, but our kitchen is backed up and-” 

“Bull-honkey-bullcrap, little miss,” the man raises his voice, spitting violently with each syllable, “This is ridiculous! We’ve been sittin’ here for nearly an hour. How hard is it to make some eggs and Mickey Mouse pancakes, huh? You just that stupid? What the hell is goin’ on back there? Are you people completely incompetent, or are you just ignorin’ us?”

Worse things have been said to your face, but you’re at your breaking point. You can feel your face flush with warmth radiating throughout your body. Now, the entire diner is staring at you from all the commotion. Your lungs feel tight, a headache casting heavy behind your face. Tears line your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. 

“Again, I’m really sorry, but like I said, the kitchen is backed up.” But apologizing isn’t enough. This guy just wanted someone to take his punches. 

“Don’t even try to apologize. I don’t wanna hear your pathetic excuses. How hard is it to cook some damn eggs? This place is a joke. You must be the worst server I’ve ever dealt with. ‘Nd I swear, if I wanted this kind of useless service, I’d go to a fast food joint. Is this how you treat payin’ customers, or ya’ll just this lazy? Do your job, or I’ll make sure everyone knows how worthless you and this diner is.”

You clutch the empty coffee pot tightly, biting your tongue. Turning swiftly, you head straight for the back swinging door. You don't intend to contribute to the chaos or the bustling mess in the kitchen, but here, in the safety of the back section, you allow a few stray tears to escape.

Shoulder blades hitting the cold brick, you wish to blend into the wall. It feels like the air’s been knocked out of you, your chest heavy and tight. Every sound around you blurs as the man’s harsh words replay in your mind, louder and louder each time. Your hands shake just enough to want to hide them behind your back, feeling afraid to have eyes on you in such a vulnerable state. Exposed. You’ve absorbed the anger meant for something or someone else, so now, it sticks to you, something you can’t wash away. 

Your name echoes once, twice. 

“Hey,” A calm amongst the rushing waves - it’s Frankie. You blink him into focus, bleary tears slowly fading away. His red bandana is tied tight around his forehead to catch the sweat from his forehead and hair. His face is laced with concern. He wipes his hands off on his apron, gently capturing your face as he shields you from the rest of the kitchen. 

And just like that, life returns to your body. You can feel the tips of your fingers, previously tingling, wiping under your eyes as you hiccup through your breaths. Frankie knows this high-traffic area will only make your anxiety worse. 

“It’s okay, take a deep breath and tell me what happen.”

The eyes of the kitchen staff are slowly starting to turn to you, asking if you’re alright and why you’re upset. Shaking your head dismissively, you blink away your tears and look down at the grubby floor that probably hasn’t been mopped since the invention of flip phones. 

“I’m fine. This customer just got pissed and yelled at me. He was upset that his food was running behind, and I tried to explain that the kitchen was backed up.” You part your lips to continue, but the jaw drops of the kitchen staff signal shock by your words. 

They all start honking in unison like a flock of geese. 

“He what?”

“Which fuckin’ table?”

“You okay, sweetheart? Fuck them.” 

Frankie's back straightens stiff, having previously been craning to see your face, now strict with annoyance. 

“Is that him?” Frankie asks as he walks to the window between the kitchen and the back counter, narrowing his eyes on the rat man and his family. 

“Frankie, please don't,” you huff, already refilling your pots of coffee and hoping to just forget the whole thing ever happened. "It's okay, it happens."

But it’s not okay. Because this guy made you cry, and what the hell was it for? Some scrambled eggs and bacon on delay?

The rest of the line cooks have abandoned their food to gawk at the asshole who thinks he can get away with yelling at one of their own like that. 

Frankie tightens his bandana and peels off his gloves, slapping them down in the trash. 

His boots thunder across the linoleum, catching the attention of many of the patrons on his way to the booth by the window where the rat man has continued to reside angrily. Even worse, he chuckles at the sight of Frankie. 

“Take a load of this guy," the rat man appears to mutter to his wife who looks between them both with startled eyes. "Okay, okay, just bring back the pretty waitress. I’ll tell her I’m sorry.” He sneers, shaking his head. 

“No, you’re done with her. You’re dealin’ with me now.” Frankie snags an empty chair from a nearby table, turns it around, and straddles the seat as he gets in the burly man's face. 

“I just feel terrible that we’re not meeting the quality of service you expected. So what exactly is the problem?” Frankie asks with a hint of venom lining his words. 

“Well- we’ve been waitin’ here for half an hour and-”

“Right, and what did the pretty waitress say?”

The man scoffs lightly, feeling embarrassed with all the eyes on him not once but twice now. “Well, she said the kitchen was backed up.”

“That’s right, that’s right, well, I’m the fuckin’ kitchen. You wanna yell at someone? Well, I thought I’d give you the chance to yell at me since, hey, I'm in charge of the kitchen today. Please, tell me your honest review.”

The rat man stares blankly, looking from left to right in surprise, but his family all gawks at Frankie. 

Frankie waits, eyes unblinking, face hardened as the man sputters up something weak in response. 

“This is ungodly and unprofessional,” he gargles, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 

“You’re absolutely right!” Frankie says, smacking the table with his closed fist before pointing at the rat man, the tip of his finger inches from his face. “I am unprofessional, but that’s because I don’t have the great customer service skills of our waitresses. That’s her job,” Frankie juts a thumb backward towards the kitchen in your direction. “So now, instead of cookin’ you and your ugly wife and kids some food, I gotta come out here and knock some sense into ya since you seemed to have lost your manners. So you gonna let her do her job so I can get back to mine?”

You can only watch from the window in shock, hand over mouth, unblinking eyes - but it’s like a car crash you can’t look away from. The man is shocked into an embarrassed silence. 

“We’ll just… we’ll wait. There’s-uh-there’s a lotta people here.” 

Frankie sighs and smiles with fake relief. He stands from the chair, looking around the quiet restaurant. 

“Anybody else have somethin' they wanna say?”

They all seem too scared of Frankie to complain again to the psycho chef. Chants of ‘Everything’s great!’ or “Thank you!” echo through the dining room. 

You smile warmly, forcing yourself to turn away from the scene and clean up your teary makeup in the bathroom. But all you can think about is Frankie. Francisco. Stupid Catfish. Stepping in like that to protect you, to make that jerk take accountability. It makes your heart flutter knowing how much he cares. And you feel the same way.

It’s about time you tell him. 

Knuckles wrap against the bathroom door, and an echo of, “You okay?” follows. 

He comes in without a response, somewhat relieved to find you adjusting your hair and wiping at the smeary makeup. Your eyes soften at the sight of him, watching in the reflection. He looks disheveled and annoyed, shaking his head as he starts ranting about rat man. 

“I don’t get how people like that- the God-loving church people- come in here and act like they weren’t just told at a sermon to love thy neighbor or whatever bullshit.”

He continues, but all you do is stare.

A part of you thinks he defends others due to his childhood. No one picks on the people Frankie cares about. That letter riled him up, maybe more than either of you had realized. He’s thinking about those times of the past, the innocent hurt by the deviant. 

“You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry, he’s a fucking dick. You don’t have to take his food out, I’ll do it. Honey,” he breathes, hand resting on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. “Are you mad at me? I know you told me not to go out there, but no one makes you cry if I can help it, y’know? I don’t want him to think he can get away with that.”

Once Frankie starts ranting, it’s really hard to get him to stop. 

“Frankie,” you breathe out, resting your hand over the one he holds on your shoulder. 

“I mean, does he really think that it’s smart to be rude to the staff? I’ll spit in his food, and it will feel really good because he’ll have no idea.”

“Frankie,”

“You’re a good fucking waitress! Doesn’t he see the entire breakfast bar and all the booths filled with guests? The line out the door wasn’t an indication of how busy it is? Get a fuckin’ brain, I mean-”

In an instant, you tilt your chin up, catching his gaze just long enough to see the shift in his eyes before your lips meet. Your hands slide around his neck, fingers weaving into the soft curls at the nape, gently tugging him down toward you. The kiss begins with an urgency, part playful, part to silence his words, but mostly, it's to thank him in a way that words never could.

Frankie’s initial surprise fades quickly as he melts into you, his breath hitching for a moment. His hands travel to your waist, sliding around until they lock just above your hips, anchoring you to him. He presses closer, his touch firm yet tender, and slows the kiss, savoring the warmth of your lips. You feel the way his body relaxes, how he leans in, letting the world around you both fall away as he holds you, close and unmoving, like he’s never letting go.

It takes every ounce of courage in your body to pull away, your lips lingering against his for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as if tethered by an invisible force. Slowly, you break the kiss, your breath shaky, heart racing. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, his eyes still half-closed, unaware of the words hanging on the edge of your lips.

You gently pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still laced in his hair, trembling slightly. His eyes search yours, soft and expectant, filled with something unspoken but unmistakable.

With a deep inhale, you let the words slip out, vulnerable and raw, barely louder than a whisper, but heavy with meaning.

“I love you.”

The world stands still as the words hang in the air, your heart pounding as you wait for the weight of what you’ve just said to settle between you.

And then he smiles like an idiot. And you’re joining him. 

“Did you say what I think you said? Did you say that you love me?" His voice is soft, teasing, as he presses his forehead against yours, capturing your lips with a few playful, quick kisses between his words. “Come on, say it again.”

You feel your heart flutter, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Frankie’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “I heard you say it. Now you can’t take it back,” he adds with a grin, pulling you tighter, his arms leaving no space between you.

You giggle, your hands pushing lightly against his shoulders, though he doesn’t budge. “Stop, that was really hard,” you huff, breathless, as though the words had stolen all the air from your lungs.

Frankie just shakes his head, his smile fading into something softer, more real, as the weight of the moment catches up with him. “I’ve thought about better places or times to tell you this, I wanted to wait until you were ready,” he whispers, his voice hushed with disbelief, eyes locking onto yours, “but I love you more than you’ll ever know. More than you’ll ever understand or dream. I love you.”

His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone, a gentle, affectionate touch that sends shivers down your spine. The intensity in his gaze mirrors your own, both of you lost in this shared vulnerability, your hearts speaking in unison.

“I love you, too,” you breathe, the words falling effortlessly this time, as if they’ve always been waiting for this moment.

So, yeah. You sort of love your co-worker Francisco Morales. 

The sun is blinding—orange and yellow streams of light as it is forced to set along the horizon. It’s slow but noticeable, sinking into the land beyond what you can see.

The sun goes down in Texas once again. 

Frankie raises his cigarette, its glowing tip mirroring the fiery hues of the sunset.

His neighborhood is tranquil, lined with single-story homes and tree-bordered streets where autumn's touch is just around the corner. Children ride bikes, joggers and dog walkers pass by, and new parents push their baby strollers—a picturesque scene that feels meticulously arranged yet somehow distant. Frankie, too, feels out of place here.

"You got pretty worked up today—more than usual," you say softly.

Frankie lets out a dry chuckle, cigarette between his lips as he leans back on his elbows, squinting at the fading sun. "Yeah, maybe. You think I’m off right now?" He tilts his head, genuinely curious, as if searching for what’s changed.

You shrug, glancing at him with a fond smile. "I think that letter from your dad has you more rattled than you realize. I found it in your sock drawer this morning."

Frankie’s gaze drops to his lap, a flicker of shame crossing his face.

"I thought you said you were gonna toss it?" you muse gently, watching as his mind churns, cigarette hovering at his lips before he sighs deeply.

"You’re too observant," he smirks. "I don’t know why I haven’t crumpled, burned, or shredded it into pieces by now. I have every right to."

You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing the tension there. "But you didn’t. Why?"

Frankie bites his lower lip nervously, glancing your way. "At the end of the apology letter, he asked to take me out for my birthday. Put down the time, place—everything. Said he’d wait for me."

Your expression softens, letting him know you’re here, really listening. "And you’re thinking about it?"

"Yeah… I guess so. But I don’t even know what I’d say. I’ve only seen him once or twice since I moved out. It’s been years. And when I do see him, I’m thirteen all over again, just yelling at him, so angry. I see his face, and it’s like a switch flips. And that’s not me. You know that’s not me," Frankie stammers, panic flickering in his eyes.

"I know," you whisper, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He pulls you closer, resting his head against yours as the weight of it all settles.

After a deep breath, Frankie gathers himself. "He used to bring out the worst in me. I don’t know if I still hate him as much. Time’s passed, maybe he’s changed. But I’m not holding my breath."

He’s an adult now, more guarded, wiser to the people who’ve hurt him. He’s fought through battles and traumas you don’t even know about. Yet, in his eyes, there’s a flicker of hope. Maybe his dad has turned a corner, maybe he’s cleaned up, seen his mistakes. But you know better than to trust in maybes.

And you’d protect him from being let down again.

"Do you want me to go with you?" you offer quietly.

Frankie’s eyes snap to yours, wide and searching.

"Okay," he says after a long pause. "Let’s do it."

[parvuls]

no, because - famous person starts dating less famous person and is then gradually overshadowed is a trope. a trope often used to bring external conflict into stories. but jack and bitty are carefully constructed as the opposite of that, and I'm fucking feral over it.

we joke about how jack will eventually be bitty's trophy husband and be thrilled about it, but it definitely has a giant grain of truth in it. it's how they're characterized. bitty is an extrovert; jack is an introvert. bitty reached out and built himself an online audience to deal with his trauma; jack shut himself out and started avoiding the public to deal with his.

bitty finds comfort in being able to talk to others and (as seen in spotlight on eric bittle) considers being a public figure a sort of healing experience: coming out and being a public person (in every manner of speaking, not just sexuality wise) and putting himself in the limelight is such an important part of his journey because he sees it as a way of helping others who were in his situation.

jack grew up in the spotlight as the only son of two prominent figures. he grew up as a child with anxiety with the media's eyes on him as he was compared to his father. he grew up as an overweight teen featuring in trashy gossip columns as he was compared to his mother. he got into rehab in part because of this attention and it only attracted more attention to him. a lot of jack's anxiety stems from the notion of people looking at him and thinking about him and talking about him and judging him, and it's unfortunate because jack's dream is to play hockey, and that comes with even more attention.

but that's the thing: jack and bitty's story is (once again) a demonstration of two people making each other's lives better.

jack's fame thrusts bitty into the spotlight post-cup, and it's a giant push forward in helping him reach a bigger audience and thus grow his independent fame. bitty's growing fame slowly overshadows jack, to the point where ngozi says they'll one day be Eric Bittle and his Athlete Husband. and that means jack gets to play hockey, and win cups, and achieve fame in his own field, but the media's attention slides off him to his husband, and the fans on the street gradually approach bitty more than him, and jack is free to have his success with less of the personal scrutiny.

it's not that jack becomes less important than bitty. it's that bitty gets to stand in front of the direct sun and flourish as a result, while jack gets to stand in the shade bitty creates and flourish as a result. it's symbiosis. it's beautiful.

[bookshelfdreams]

That is certainly - a statement.

What about Jim, who both metaphorically and literally discovers a path for themself beyond what they were raised to be? What about Pete, who learns to overcome his toxic masculinity, his posturing and self-importance? What about Ed, whose entire story is about deconstructing the performance that is expected of him?

What about, oh, idk, our main fucking character Stede Bonnet, whose arc starts with him literally breaking out from the hetero marriage he was forced into despite never fitting in? Who tries (and initially fails) to build a community where he can be himself? Whose entire story is about discovering his own queerness! He starts out not even able to put a finger on WHY his marriage made him feel so suffocated, and then journeys through s1 until he reaches the emotional climax - "His name is Ed"!

Contrast that with Izzy, who has to be dragged into a supportive community kicking and screaming. Who rejects care and compassion, even at his worst, who has to be forced to accept help. He receives the leg and calls the crew a homophobic slur for it, ffs. Only after that, only when people refuse to let him push them away, is he able to poke his nose into something approaching positive human connections. And that's a powerful narrative, sure, in it's own way; but it's hardly the Ultimate Queer Experience, and it's definitely not the "only queer arc".

And Izzy never lets go of the old ways. He never abandons the Blackbeard-era pirate lifestyle for something more positive, not fully. And that's okay, because ultimately, his arc isn't even about himself.

It's about Ed.

Ed keeps repeating toxic relationship patterns, and Izzy is a part of that. He's linked (on purpose, and I wish it had been done more explicitly) to Ed's father; because Izzy represents the poison that was instilled in Ed from a young age, and that has become so entrenched in his system that he can't imagine a life without it. He keeps Izzy around despite being hurt by him because Izzy is predictable, and in that, is safe, even though he hurts Ed; at least it's a hurt Ed is familiar with and can rely on.

When Izzy slowly changes it's to show that Ed is growing beyond the little voice in his head telling him to reject softness, that he can never be loved, that We're just not these kinds of people. If Izzy can evolve from someone spitting boyfriend at Ed like it's a slur to someone congratulating him on getting laid by that same person, Ed can overcome his inner demons telling him the same thing.

That's the point of Izzy's arc. And this is why he has to die, because Ed can never be truly free as long as Izzy is around. So Izzy goes, quietly, peacefully, and releases Ed of the poison; apologizes to him, tells him I was so wrong, and I am so sorry, because that's what Ed needs to hear to move forward.

And that's such a kind, positive way to end the story of Izzy Hands.

[lovelytsunoda]

I’m just a man // lance stroll

part of the welcome to wherever you are verse

summary: on their way to circuit of the americas, the hutchence-strolls stop by california to pay pilgrimage to a place very close to y/n’s heart.

pairing: lance stroll x hutchence!reader

warnings: mentions of parental death (see the lore masterpost for more details about what happened to micheal hutchence)…the timeline is a little fucked but please just ignore it

authors note: posting this in time to celebrate ✨inxs day✨ on august 16 because I’m a music nerd

y/n.hutchence just posted to her private story!

y/n.hutchence posted to her private story!

lancestroll just posted!!

los angeles, california

tagged: y/nhutchence

liked by fernandoalonso, yn.hutchence, chloestroll and 3,589 others

lancestroll los angeles with my lover girl 🩷

see all comments

y/n.hutchence I know we aren’t here for entirely happy reasons but I love that I’m doing this with you and I’ve had a wonderful time so far 🥺

-> lancestroll there’s no one else I’d rather be here with, my sweet girl

user what does she mean not entirely happy reasons?

-> user her dads grave is in Hollywood so I’m assuming she means she’s come to visit him

garygarrybeers my neighbour is wondering what happened to their dog?

-> lancestroll don’t look at me look at y/n

-> yn.hutchence are mr and mrs callaghan sure that salmon can’t come back to monaco with us?

user hilarious how everyone thought she was a gold digger at first until they found out she was literal music royalty

y/n.hutchence just posted!

liked by garrygarybeers, yourmom, lancestroll and others

y/n.hutchence I miss you, Daddy. I was just a little girl when you left us behind, and at the time I didn’t understand how much pain you were in. I took that greif and I internalized it and it made me rebellious, it made me stupid. Eventually I straightened out, and I’m sure you know that because I’m certain you’ve been watching me from up there with good ol’ Bon Scott and I want you to know that I’m okay. I’m surrounded by great family and even better friends, I’m married to a man that treats me like a princess and reminds me every day that I’m deserving of love. Growing up without you was hard, but I’ve carried you in my heart with me since I was a little kid, and I still feel you with me now.

I grieve for the moments you missed, the lost father-daughter dances. Paul is a great stepdad, and I’m glad mom found love again, but I can’t help but think that you should still be here.

I love you, Dad, and I always will.

comments on this post have been limited

kirkpengilly michael was one of the best friends a man could ask for….ill miss him forever

lancestroll I wish I could have met him myself. he sounds like an incredible person with an extraordinary legacy. I know he would be proud of you, sweetheart.

jonfarriss that man was one of a kind. rip, brother.

yourmom I hope you know how much he loved you, sweetie.

-> yn.hutchence he loved us both, mom

yourbestie sending you all of my love ❤️

[tyttamarzh]

Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter.

This will probably be very long, so if you want to read it, go grab some popcorn and get comfortable.

I have to talk about this because it's eating me up inside. I think I shouldn't give so much importance to comments coming from sewers like Twitter and much less Tiktok, but it makes me so sick (and I'm such a masochist that I even spend time looking for the shit they say to make me angrier and debate them xD).

I am very happy that it was finally made official, with papers certified by the federation, that Tallulah is the daughter of Philza and Missa, I think that was not entirely necessary for them, because they had assumed it for a long time (let's assume that Tallulah needed the pappers to end her W arc), although I suppose that more than anything it was done for those people who still cannot accept it or who deny the paternity of Phil and Missa (With Missa, although it bothers me, I can even understand it, he He hasn't been as present and many people don't know him, but god, it would be a crime to deny Tallulah's paternity to Phil, the man who has kept her alive and given everything for her throughout her life).

I'm glad that, although I have seen negative comments, the majority have been positive (even if it hurts them, it doesn't matter, it's official, screw them). Mainly, the negative comments have been from defenders of W and their arguments are so poor and weak that they are easily refuted. It is obvious that these people do not know Tallulah and have never met her, many do not even know how things turned out and say nonsense like that the current Llulah is an imposter, that it is not fair that they "rewrote" history and erased W (which It is false, Llulah's words make it clear that history was never changed, she simply moved on and that person remained in the past).

I refuted all those arguments on Twitter but screw Twitter, I hate the fucking character limit. So I'm going to expand (I have a lot of poison to get out of my skin). I have some points:

1- "That's not Tallulah" Of course it is her, those who witnessed her life and her growth during the year that passed, can realize that this was her natural evolution. She is the same girl who grew up overcoming her limitations, who suffered, who felt alone, who had abandonment problems, who everyone saw as a poor abandoned girl and who found comfort next to someone who has always loved her like a father and a brother who gave everything for her.

2- "They erased all her lore" No. Tallulah's lore is the one she built with Philza and Chayanne over the course of the year they lived together. Her relationship with W and her longing for him was only part of her story (although people made a lot of emphasis on that), but it was not the only thing that defined her, it never was and only people who never got to met her think that. They see her like an extension of that other person, as the only thing that kept him on the server, but did not see her as an individual character and definitely did not watch Phil's Vods and they never really knew her lore.

3-"How do they explain this in the lore?" Simple, there was someone in her life, someone who was her first father, but who spent very little time with her, who left a long time ago and who is currently no longer part of her life. She learned to let go of the past and focused in the family she has in the present, the family that loves her, that watched her grow up, that makes her happy and gives her security to believe in herself and that is the Death Family, Chayanne, Philza and Missa. Time passes, not all people stay, treasure those who are by your side and let go of what never brought you anything but pain.

4- "They should have created another egg and replaced her" Why replaceher? It has no sense or reason. She is a character who built her own story with her family, a story that never really involved that other person other than with one or another sporadic mention, why eliminate a character that evolved by itself? Little by little she separated herself from what she was at the beginning and that bond that she had with that first father was practically non-existent. What would be the point of eliminating it or replace her with another new character?

5- "No matter what other parents and appearance give her, she will always belong to W because she still carries the name he gave her" No. She never belonged to him. She lived with that man for 2 days and apart from leaving him the promise of a reunion, she did not contribute anything else to her life. She formed her own path, her passion for music was not because of him, it was something she already had before, her love for nature, for animals, everything was built in the days she lived with Philza (even with uncle Bad). She suffered for her first father but she moved on, she matured, she discovered her link with death and her powers as a medium, she acquired her own personality and little by little she built the Tallulah she is now.

She never belonged to anyone but herself and she always fought to prove that, but people insisted on dumping trauma on her and reminding her that she was an abandoned child waiting for someone who at a certain point was nothing more than an idealized dream, because There was never a real relationship between them, they never lived together long enough. She little by little made her decisions and chose the people she wanted to be her parents (and it's not that she had few options, Quackity, Bad and even F wanted to adopt her at the time and asked them to, but she was not a girl who was looking for parents). She could choose and she chose Philza, the person who had always been there for her and later she chose Missa, someone who despite not knowing her very well gave her his love unconditionally and gave her security when she needed it. Then she was able to feel the warmth of being part of a complete family.

6- "They should change her name because W gave her that name! That impostor is not Tallulah!" Why? Her name is not anyone's intellectual property, at the time it was given to her, it belonged to her for better or worse and yes, in some way it will always be a tie to her past, but a past she has already left behind and managed to overcome by creating new memories and dreams.

To a certain extent I understand those who became attached to her because she reminded them of that other person, but if they couldn't see her as her own character, it means that they never cared enough to make the effort to get to know her.

It would shock us all if a character we liked suddenly changed drastically and left behind what like us in the first place. But if they had really watched her, they would have realized that the change was not sudden, it was gradual.

She found in Phil a protective and understanding father who always put her and her brother before anything else, who suffered with her her pain and outbursts of frustration due to the depression caused by the absence of her first father. She found in Missa a cute and loving father who always showers her with love and helps her to have confidence in herself. She doesn't lack anything with them. She has closed a cycle of pain in her life and now she can heal.

She chose the look that makes her feel finally free to be herself, whatever the external reasons that led to that, she finally has a future ahead of her unbound by the past and prefers to be more like the people she considers her family now. If you can't see what all of this really meant to Tallulah and her evolution, it's because you never cared to see even 20% of her story. Well, since the middle of last year she began her journey to break away from a name and be herself, fighting to be seen for who she was.

If those people decide to continue supporting someone despite his shit, that is their right, but the server and the admin were also within their right to decide to kick him out and want to distance themselves from a person they consider unpleasant.

7-There were comments of another type, mainly from people who are really very lost with the lore, people who consider her the daughter of Quackity, even confusing her with Tilín (saying that Q didn't know if she was the daughter of W or Luzu and that she should get a DNA test), when we all know that from the beginning she was W's daughter as a single father and that the only reason Quackity could have become Tallulah's father was if to marry W, but that never happened, W didn't come back and Quackity was never able to develop that relationship with Llulah, she considered him a possible father because she knew W loved him, but Q always being kidnapped or something, they never really related much. There are people who, even with a certificate, continue to insist that Tallulah should have been given to Quackity to raise with Luzu (she had a tender interaction with Luzu and people were already asking him to adopt her, saying that she was alone and had no parents, I seriously hate them!) I shouldn't take seriously people who obviously haven't seen Philza even once and I know that many of those people are hispanic and are limited by the language barrier but if they don't have the slightest idea They shouldn't give their opinion… Tallulah is not an object to be passed from hand to hand, she chose and in order to do so she had to go through a very long and painful arc.

8- I firmly believe that it is a great win to now have a certificate that endorses who the people she considers her parents are, but I insist, it was not necessary, because that has been known for a long time and I am sure that if it was created it was to close the mouth mouth to all those people who are not capable of accepting that.

Tallulah is the daughter of Philza and Missa (and no one else), she is part of the Death Family, that is her story, it is not a whim, a whim is continuing to link her to something she is no longer a part of or wanting to make her a part of a lore that never happened or wanting to give her other parents different from the ones she grew up with (Quackity already had Tilín, Richas and now Pepito, I don't think she needs more children and Tallulah doesn't need any more shitty drama in her life).

Tallulah is a beautiful being, both with her old look and with the new and as Missa says "She deserves only the beautiful things in the world"

Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter!!! Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter!!! Tallulah is Phil and Missa's daughter!!! And I can shout it a thousand times because it's true and she always was, but now it's certified by the government and no amount of complaining or tantrums can change that fact.

Sorry for my bad english. See you!! jajaja ando re agresiva, pero es que nadie se mete con mi familia xD

[chloe-skywalker]

For You - Robb Stark

Robb x fem!reader Baratheon/Lannister

Warnings: GOT, incest mentioned

Word count: 718

Summary: Y/n’s uncle has been captured in the war between her blood family and her family by law. The one person that really cared about her growing up. Will her husband kill the one person closest to his wife?

Authors Note: I know Jaime did a lot of crap to the Starks but I like this story and I’m not sorry. 

Masterlist

Game Of Thrones Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Robb stood there in their shared tent staring at his wife. He knew she was hurting but was bottling it up. She didn’t want to look weak or like a traitor to their men but Robb knew it wasn’t healthy. He could see it taking a toll on her and that was starting to hurt him as well. Once the last person had left the tent and they were alone Robb decided it was time to talk about it. “I am sorry my love.”

“For what your Grace?” Y/n asked confused on what he had to be sorry for.

“I know it hurts you to see him typed up out there.” Robb stated, cutting straight to the chase but still wanting to be considerate of her feelings.

It was silent for a few minutes. Y/n had a feeling that he had been wanting to bring this up for awhile. But Y/n didn’t know how exactly to explain how she felt about the situation.

“He is my uncle. He’s the only person that’s always been there for me and supported all my decisions.” Y/n couldn’t even begin to explain all that Jaime had done for her in her life. “My father could give a crap about us kids and my mother only cares about power. Jaime, he actually cares.”

Robb had seen first hand when they visited Winterfell how her parents were. And he saw how close she was with her Kingsgaurd uncle. “I’m sorry.”

Robb knew they had good parents growing up, one’s that cared. His wife didn’t have that.

“And if the rumors are true than I guess, he’s my blood father.” Y/n feared  saying it out loud. Not anything against her ‘Uncle’, but the fact why would anyone want to be around or love the child of incest. She had a hard enough time finding love  just having Lannister blood run through her veins. “That makes me someone you shouldn’t be with.”

Y/n dropped her head trying to hide her tears and defeated expression. She had truly come to fall in love with her husband and now because of her family's mistakes she could lose him.

Robb rushed over to her cupping her cheeks and pulled her inot a passionate kiss. “I love you, I do not care about who your parents are. My love for you will never change. That I promise.”

Y/n gave him a watery smile. “I love you to my wolf.”

“I won’t kill him.” Robb spoke up after some time.

Y/n pulled back to look at her husband, giving him a sad but appreciative smile. The fact that he wants to spare Jaime for her is heartwarming, but she knew he couldn't. “You can’t promise me  that. As much as you’d like to, you can’t. If your men-”

“Fuck what my men want.” He cut her off. He was King of the North now he could do what he wanted.

“He injured your father.” Y/n continued back with sad eyes.

“He’s not the one that killed him.” Robb pulled her closer by the hips. Yes she had a point with both things. But so did he.

“I’m sorry-”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Robb cut her off again. She was not to blame for anything that had happened.

“They’re my family, and they're tormenting yours. Their the ones doing all this.” Y/n hated that she was put into the middle of everything just because of blood and marriage.

“You’ve been with me the whole time. You have had no part in it. In any of it, so none of it is your fault. You are not to blame. They’re tormenting you as well by putting you in the middle of all this.” Robb pulled her against his chest with an arm around her waist holding her to him, while the other rested on the back of her neck. Looking her in the eye’s to prove his seriousness. “I won’t kill Jaime. For you I won’t. But the other Lannisters. . .”

Y/n nodded knowing what he meant. “I know. . . Thank you.”

“You are my wife, my Queen. You do not need to thank me.” Robb shook his head. With him she’d always have a voice. He would never dictate her life.

Taglist: @gruffle1 @padawancat97 @misspendragonsworld

@starkleila

[aspoonofsugar]

Hi! Do you think Alastor and Lucifer are foils?

Hi!

Yes, of course they are!

Alastor and Lucifer's foiling starts in Dad Beats Dad (obviously), where they fight over Charlie's affection. They might seem as opposites throughout the episode, but they are actually the same, as they both try to impress Charlie with their powers:

[ALASTOR:] They say, when you're looking for assistance It's smart to pick the path of least resistance [LUCIFER:] Others say, that in your needy hour There's no substitute for pure angelic power!

Still, Charlie doesn't care and all she wants is for her parental figures to support her:

Charlie: How come he can have faith in me, but my own father can't?

In short, Alastor and Lucifer find pride in their abilities, but need to let go of it, in order to show their love for Charlie. By the end of the episode, they both accomplish this. However, they succeed in slightly different ways, that fit their shared motif of shadow and light. In particular:

Alastor is linked to shadows, as his abilities let him manipulate shadows

Lucifer is linked to light, as his name means morningstar and his powers manifest in light-beams

As a result:

Alastor's development happens in the shadows, whereas Lucifer's in the light - This is true also on a meta-level, as Alastor's arc is the secondary plot-line of the episode, whereas Lucifer's is the main one

Alastor acts as Lucifer's jungian shadow and becomes a catalyst for him to change. Similarly, Alastor himself is challenged to grow by his own jungian shadow, aka Husk

What is the jungian shadow? It is the repressed part of a person. In stories, a character might meet another one, who embodies this hidden part of the self. By integrating with the shadow, the character evolves. In other words, Alastor represents a repressed part of Lucifer and Husk a repressed part of Alastor. Let's see how it all plays out.

ALASTOR, HUSK AND MIMZY

Alastor and Mimzy's bond is unhealthy, as they both enable negative sides of the other. On the one hand Alastor keeps covering for Mimzy, no matter what she does. On the other hand Mimzy feeds Alastor's ego by praising his power and abilities.

So, Mimzy never faces the consequences of her actions:

Mimzy: Thanks for helpin' lil' old me out of a though spot. You're always such a pal.

And Alastor feels respected and appreciated:

Alastor: It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry Husker. Who in their right mind would cross me?

However, the reality is that Mimzy is using Alastor and Husk points this out:

Husk: You and I both know Mimzy only shows up, when she needs something. That bitch is trouble and who knows what kinda demon she fucked with to come running to you this time?

Not only that, but he openly calls Alastor out on his pride:

Husk: Big talk for someone, who's also on a leash.

Which results in Alastor reacting in anger:

That said, Husk is proven right. It turns out Mimzy has willingly brought chaos to the hotel, so that Alastor could solve things for her. Because of this, Alastor finally cuts ties with her:

Alastor: You deliberately brought danger to this place just to have me clean up your mess. I can't have that here.

This choice is important and it shows how the people around him are slowly impacting Alastor. On the one hand the Radio Demon listens to one of his subjects' advice. On the other hand he acts to protect the hotel. As a matter of fact the moment Alastor steps up as the Host of the Hotel isn't when he sings to Charlie in Hell's Greatest Dad nor when he transforms into a giant and fights. It is when he sends Mimzy away and sacrifices a little bit of his pride to do so. interestingly, this happens as nobody is looking at him, so he isn't really trying to impress nor to trick the others. He acts selflessly in the shadows.

LUCIFER, ALASTOR AND CHARLIE

Lucifer and Charlie's bond is strained:

Charlie: We just have never been close. After he and mom split, he never really wanted to see me. He calls... sometimes, but only if he's bored or like, needs me to do something.

At the root of this conflict there is Lucifer's inability to show his daughter how much he cares. He struggles to express his feelings and hides them behind a prideful persona:

Charlie: I told you when you called me five months ago. Or did you not listen? Lucifer: No, no, no, no. Just, you know, I just forgot. I've just been really busy, ya know with um... important things.

Instead of openly admitting his depression and sadness he prefers to look cold and uninterested. Even dismissive and condescending, like when he arrives at the Hazbin Hotel:

Lucifer: Wow, this place sure looks, uh... Uh-uh. Yeah. Uh-uh. It's got a lot of character!

Lucifer is initially too focused on what he cares about - meeting his daughter - rather than on what Charlie wants - for him to help her with the hotel. He happily hugs Charlie and then immediately moves on to pet Keekee, Razzle and Dazzle, who are his own creations. Only later he considers the welcome Charlie and the others have prepared for him. Even then, he still misses the point and tries to buy Charlie's love by showing off his magical powers:

Haha, looks like you could use some help From the big boss of Hell himself

Except that what Charlie wants from him aren't champaigne fountains or caviar mountains, but an appointment with Heaven, which he negates her. Not only that, but instead of being honest about his fears, he deflects everything on Charlie herself, by dismissing her plan:

Lucifer: Alright, listen, I love that you want to see the best in people, but these sinners... You know, they're just the worst. I, I don't know how much you can realistically expect from them in Heaven.

Luckily, the Radio Demon is closeby, as he forces Lucifer to show his true self.

On the one hand Alastor brings out Lucifer's insecurity and fears:

I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond You're like the child that I wish that I had I care for you, just like a daughter I spawned It's a little funny, you could almost call me dad

He juxtaposes moments of everyday life and affirmations of affection to Lucifer's materialistic and fancy promises. In this way Alastor highlights the faults of Lucifer, as a father. He points out that Lucifer is never there for Charlie.

On the other hand Alastor embodies the kind of sinner Lucifer despises:

Lucifer: Ya see? What I tell ya? Charlie, sinners are violent psychopaths, hell bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There's really no point in trying.

And yet, such a violent psychopath is more willing to help Charlie than Lucifer himself:

Charlie: Dad, stop! He's defending this hotel. It may be a bit more sadistic than I'd hoped. But he's doing it for me!

This realization leads to a confrontation between father and daughter and to an admission on Lucifer's part:

Lucifer: I just don't want you to be crushed by them like... like I was.

The problem isn't Charlie, but Lucifer himself. It is not that Charlie's dream is silly, but that Lucifer's one has been destroyed. This revelation is important because Lucifer's mask comes off and he shows Charlie his weakest and most broken self. He swallows his pride and has Charlie see who her father really his. In all his mistakes and his hurt. And to his surprise Charlie accepts him. Not only that, but she admires him:

So in the end, it's the view I had of you That showed me dreams can be worth fighting for

Symbolically the song More than Anything starts with Lucifer and Charlie in the shadows:

They are repressing a lot and have no idea who the other is. Still, as the song goes on, they get to understand each other:

All that I'm hopin', now that my eyes are open Is that we can start again, not be pulled apart again 'Cause in the end, you are part of who I am

And they end the song surrounded by light:

What is initially in the shadow comes to light in three different ways:

Lucifer shows Charlie his true self

Lucifer sees Charlie for who she is

Lucifer exhibits his weakness in front of the whole Hazbin Hotel. He lets the sinners he dislikes so much witness the mess that he is.

His fragility is in full display. It is in the light for everyone to see.

PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWERS! ITTY BITTY LIVING SPACE!

Another similarity Alastor and Lucifer share is that they are two powerful beings that give much importance to free will:

Alastor: You should know better than anyone what a soul can accomplish when they take charge of their own fate.

Charlie: Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity.

And yet, they are both trapped:

Alastor: I'm hungry for freedom like never before The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor Once I figure out how to unclip my wings Guess who will be pulling all the strings?

Charlie: As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he had created, never allowing him to see the good that came from humanity, only the cruel and the wicked.

On the one hand Alastor controls many souls, but his own is owned by someone else. On the other hand Lucifer is the strongest being in all of Hell, but he is regarded as a disgrace by other angels.

Moreover, they both project their unhappiness on others. Specifically, Lucifer blames sinners like Alastor:

Lucifer: Our "people", Charlie, are awful! They got gifted free will and look what they did with it! Everything's terrible!

While Alastor lashes out on his prisoners, like Husk:

Alastor: If you ever say that again, I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to question me.

Still, the point is that Lucifer is exactly like Alastor. He is a gifted creature, who messed up royally and cursed humanity. Alastor instead is exactly like Husk, a powerful overlord, who still finds himself chained. Lucifer is the most hated being in all of creation and Alastor is on a leash. They are both lonely and desperate, but too proud to admit it. In other words, they are both losers:

Husk: There was a time I thought no one could relate To the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight! We're all livin' in the same shit-sandwich

Just like everyone in Hell. And yet, this is not bad per se. Even if you hit rock bottom, you can still climb back up, as long as you let go of self-importance and start to earnestly empathize with others. As a matter of fact it is only through community and bonds that a person can be redeemed and heal:

Out for love Love Think of who you care about Protect them and be out For love Love You're gonna fight without gloves Long as you're out for love

This is what Alastor and Lucifer are learning through Charlie.

TWO DADS, ONE DAUGHTER

Season 1 sets up Alastor and Lucifer as two mentor figures to Charlie. They share this role in a way, which makes them almost perfect mirrors. Some examples:

Lucifer gives Charlie the hotel building and Alastor calls it Hazbin Hotel

Alastor helps repair the Hotel in the beginning, while Lucifer assists Charlie in building it anew by the end

Lucifer guides Charlie to Heaven, as he sets up her meeting with Sera and Emily. Alastor instead guides Charlie in Hell as he introduces her to Rosie and helps her inspire the cannibals

Both Alastor and Lucifer believe in Charlie, when she is at her lowest. Alastor does so before the final battle, whereas Lucifer after the fight

Alastor and Lucifer fight Adam (another foil of theirs) in the final episode. Moreover, both belittle his abilities and highlight how he is strong, but unskilled:

Alastor: You lack discipline, control and worst, you are sloppy!

Lucifer: So, this is what you've been up to since Eden? Gotta say, you really let yourself go buddy.

In particular, Alastor is the one supposed to take Adam down, but fails and Lucifer steps in by the end. This is just like in the beginning Lucifer is supposed to support and help Charlie with her project. Still, he is absent and Alastor fills the spot.

In other words, Alastor and Lucifer are unwillingly complementary and so far one has appeared when the other has been incapacitated. We'll see if this pattern continues. As for now, they are clearly framed as key to Charlie's development, so it is possible they will come to embody different sides of her:

Alastor represents the sinners Charlie wants to reach and all their pain and complexity. He is also linked to fear and the unknown. He is the ally she finds by herself. He is the found family Charlie chooses.

Lucifer represents the angels Charlie wants to communicate with. He is also linked to dreams and ideals. He is the legacy she inherits. He is the biological family Charlie wants to re-connect with.

In short, they are both parts of who Charlie is and she needs them to grow into herself. Just like they need her to mature and find redemption and happiness.

[queers-gambit]

Midsummer Night(mare)'s Dream

prompt: ( requested ) when Oliver's obsession reaches new heights, you fear Felix might return the affection - resulting in bloody flower petals suffocating you.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 12.9k+

note: favorite trope here to stay

⚠️ you are responsible for the media you consume ⚠️

warnings: Hanahaki Disease AU: depiction of physical illness, medical phenomenon, blood, self-destruction; alcohol consumption, brief illicit material use and brief depiction of physical aggression, Lord's name in vain, cursing, angst, hurt and comfort, spoilers, AU timeline (obviously), "friends to 'strangers' to lovers", fix it Felix, "best friends" trope too, dead parents / family angst. requires maturity and caution.

When the first semester at Oxford started, something in your gut twisted with an unknown anxiety. Something in the air churned, a tide was turning, and there was something deeply amiss that you just couldn't put your finger on.

Your roommate was kind, your grades average with those that took education seriously, and your professors were decently challenging but in a good way. You didn't know what was wrong, why you suddenly felt anxious, but then, after asking your best mate why he was late to class the day of his first tutorial, Felix answered, "Had a flat tire."

You nodded, handing him the joint as you sucked in a sharp breath to hold the smoke in your lungs, "So you booked it?"

"No, actually," he chuckled. "Nice bloke named Ollie stopped t'help, offered me his bike."

You laughed, smoke billowing out, "Yeah? Tellin' me he just stopped and gave you his bike? Come off it - nobody's that nice. You flirt with him or something, Fi?"

"No, no, I'm serious! That's literally what happened!" He nestled his arm around your waist, "No, seriously, listen, right, I was on my way t'class, on time and all, yeah? Got a flat tire on my way. This lad, Ollie - Oliver - comes down the path, stops, asks what's goin' on, said he was in my college, so, he offered his bike 'cause he'd get it later, said he'd wheel mine back and all."

"Fuck off!" You shoved your elbow into his ribs.

"You only think people are out to do the worst, darling," Felix chuckled, flashing you a blinding smile. Neither of you could anticipate the series of events that this interaction would kick off. "Besides, he saved my fuckin' arse, I got t'class with enough time, didn't I?"

"Hmm," you agreed, a knot forming in your stomach as he handed you the joint back; both stretched out in your dorm bed as the thunder storm raged just shortly after you got back from class.

Perhaps you were too much of a cynic. Perhaps you grew up in a rougher part of the city with considerably less money, being skeptical of gestures of kindness. Perhaps you only knew people to be disingenuous.

Maybe you were just used to hearing these incredible stories from Felix Catton - certified spoilt best friend.

You grew up together; meeting as young children because your parents worked for one of the Catton's companies, your fathers having been childhood best friends, joining you two at the hip. You and Felix were two halves of one whole, a single functioning organism; becoming inseparable. You were meant to be soulmates, you were so sure of it, but in reality, it felt reassuring to have such a strong friendship that you never entertained the idea of romance.

Felix's friendship was genuine. It was built-on everyday, growing, evolving, forever changing to accommodate both your changing personalities. He accepted you for who you are, and it felt like he chose you everyday. Where others came and went, you remained. Where others abandoned you, there he was. There was no you without Felix and no Felix without you, and when the time came, you chose to attend Oxford together.

You knew how easy life was for him. You knew the silver spoon he was fed from. You knew he was the flame moths were drawn to.

Knowing Felix Catton was power-by-association, and you watched an endless slew of people come and go with the snuffed-out dream of being in his inner circle. You protected Felix (and the Cattons) from leeches and Felix protected you from, well, everything else. You were meant to be soulmates, you were so sure of it, and then everything changed the summer before senior year of secondary school when you moved in with him permanently.

Summer had just started, you were only two months away from turning 18, and then, a drunk driver drove your mother and father into a tree on the side of a road. There was nothing to be done when your parents were finally found, the EMTs assuring you they were dead on impact and did not suffer. You had been at home with Felix, who let you paint his toenails, the house phone ringing shrilly.

"Hello?" He answered for you, reporting your family's surname's residence. He hummed, then paused, looking at you. "It's St. Luke's Hospital, love?" Felix handed you the phone with curiosity.

When you reached for the landline, the nurse reported you were needed and asked if you had the means to get to them. You begged to know what happened, but all she said was, "There was an accident."

Felix drove you to the hospital.

Felix held your hand when you were lead to a private room, meeting a set of police officers.

Felix held you when you stumbled in shock upon being shown your parent's demise and Felix held your hair when you threw up after identifying bodies.

And the Cattons stood with you when the man responsible was sentenced to life in prison. They stood in the rain when you tossed two stones in the stream.

You lived with him from that moment on and sometime after, you accepted how in-love with him you were. He had always taken care of you, but that summer, he took care of you; being the glue that kept you together, the binding force that brought you into being, the reason you didn't waste away, give up, or lose yourself entirely.

When your final year before university began, you had to stomach the idea of loving him at a distance. He'd always been popular, charismatic, the sun at the center of everyone's galaxy that pulled all towards his warmth and light. But after losing his virginity at age 15, Felix was constantly running through partners and you didn't want to interrupt his "sexual awakening" despite the knife to the gut each girl stabbed. So, you kept your feelings to yourself and tried your hardest to be a staple in his life, and when you chose to attend Oxford, you made peace with the idea that you'd go another 4 years in silent denial.

Something about Oliver's little act of kindness just made you uneasy.

And then, the following night, Felix spotted his new little friend when you were out at the local pub and invited Ollie to sit at the table with you lot. You sat between Felix and Farleigh, India on your friend's other side - his cousin something akin to your own flesh and blood. After all, you had known them all for two nearly decades; marking you as one of the very, very few who could put Farleigh in his place. Eerily, you both shared a look of mild distain, but for very different reasons.

You didn't think yourself a jealous woman, but after meeting Oliver Quick in person, hearing him speak, watching him watch Felix, and witnessing how he interacted with everyone else, you grew uneasy in his presence. The night you met him officially, there was a funny tickle in your chest, and after a few too many coughs escaped, Felix whipped around at you instantly. "You gettin' sick, darlin'?" He asked, words drenched in genuine concern.

Oliver thought it was curious to use a pet name for a pretty girl while a different one was sat on his lap.

"I'm good," you assured, thinking the rain caused this reaction.

But as the night wore on, you coughed more and more. When Oliver got up to get the next round of shots, Felix, ever the sweetheart who had money at his disposal, scolded Farleigh for instigating the poor boy and stood with a note in his hand. Only you saw the real interaction of Felix subtly paying for the drinks, and when he returned, he set a glass of water in front of you.

He made sure you didn't drink the rest of the night, but you didn't want to - starting to feel unwell. "Fi, I'm gonna go - "

"Oh, no, love, c'mon, an hour longer," he pleaded as you stood. But he paused, examined your face, then standing without another word and tossed his arm around you, announcing to the table, "Right, we're off."

He ignored the jeers and complaints because he was swiftly escorting you away, and only when Farleigh clocked this did he scold the table to shut the fuck up. When you stepped outside, Felix was turning to you instantly, holding your cheeks in hand and using his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth.

"You're bleedin', love," he muttered, showing you his hand. You frowned and wiped the area yourself, seeing the crimson stain on the pads of your fingers. "Fuck. All right. C'mon, we can get you to the infirmary - "

"No, I don't think it's - "

"You've been coughin' all night and now you're bleedin'," he snapped, shushing you, "we're goin'!" When you just stared at him for a moment, he sighed, "I-I'm sorry, that was a bit more aggressive than needed. I'm just worried, love, you shouldn't be coughing blood."

"Might've just been smoking too much, yeah?"

Felix spoke your name with a hardened edge, staring at you for a long moment as neither of you wanted to back down. Finally, he cracked, "You're not gonna go, are you?"

"Nope. C'mon, I'm tired."

"Well, I'm stayin' the night incase you throw up," he declared, giving in and leading you towards your dorm.

"No, go back - "

"Not leavin' yah, love," he refused. "So, c'mon, tell me," he changed the subject, "what'd you think of Ollie?"

You sighed, "Nice enough lad, I guess."

"Told you," he grinned, weighing your heart to your feet.

For nearly every instance there after, you dreaded hearing Ollie's name or seeing him pop up at events. But that first night, as Felix dozed off in your bed, you were set on your knees, dry heaving in vain to free your throat from whatever suffocated you internally. When you managed to trigger your gag reflex, a stream of alcohol came spewing out - dotted with long, pretty, bright yellow petals.

You stared into the toilet, blinking in shock.

You always thought Felix was the human equivalent to a golden retriever with the disposition of a sunflower. In fact, there grew a small patch of sunflowers at Saltburn just for you; you and Felix planting them one summer together, kept alive after your parents died to bring you a little sunshine when you felt overwhelmed with storm clouds. After all, they were your favorite flower... Now being hacked out of your lungs in a ghastly, tacky mixture of blood, clots, and mucus.

As the year went, you didn't have another episode, but still did any and all research you could on your current phenomenon, wanting to avoid the hospital if you could.

The year flew by without much of a hitch, outside of Felix snapping on Ollie and distancing the lad from the group. However, just before exams, Felix came to you in need of help; saying Ollie's dad died, and being as he had both parents, he wasn't sure how to comfort the lad. It struck a nerve deep within you, going with Felix to talk to Ollie, and by the end, your arm had slung around the scholarship boy in pity, trying to talk him through part of his grief.

You didn't know the lad did his research on you and discovered you lived with Felix in his grand fucking castle because you were orphaned just before turning 18. It was the perfect "in", in Ollie's mind; a way to weasel close to you, solidifying himself to Felix.

You didn't like Ollie, he still made you feel uneasy, but you did pity him enough that you tolerated him. Now more than ever. He was back in the group before the day was done.

However, when exams concluded, Ollie was acutely aware that Felix attended the celebration to your exams - dressing you, pinning you for your accomplishments. You dressed and pinned Felix after his. And you both showed up for Ollie's exams, though, you dressed and pinned Farleigh as Felix did Ollie. He supposed it counted, still having the object of his desire back in sight; within his reach; staring at him with pride and a hint of pity.

It was exactly what Oliver wanted.

"Well, aren't you gorgeous?" Felix complimented when you arrived in the courtyard, dressing for the end-of-year ball. He stooped down to wrap you in a hug, giving a spin, and setting you on your feet as you laughed at his usual antics. "Absolutely a vision, love, seriously," he praised. "And I have a li'l something for us, hey?" He held up the champagne bottle.

"Christ," you mused, "what's the occasion? They'll supply cocktails there, Fi - "

"We're going to a funeral."

"I'm sorry?"

He sighed, handing you the bottle to dig in his trouser pocket and revealed a stone painted with the word, 'Dad'. Felix looked sheepish, "I thought we could do it for Ollie, yeah? Lad's had a real rough go of it all - "

"I think that's a nice idea, Fi," you cut him off, smiling in assurance, opening the wire on the bottle. "But first, a toast," you proposed, "to the start of summer."

"And end of exams," he agreed, taking the bottle back when you handed it over and popping the cork. He cheered as you drank first, taking his own, wrapping you in a tight hug. "We survived," he laughed, sighing after. "Really glad you were here with me through it, love."

"Yeah, me, too," you whispered, holding back creeping bile when your heart began to pound with harrowing tension. "All right, pretty boy, c'mon, sun's setting."

"Right," he pulled back, "I told Ollie to meet us in the courtyard."

"Which one?"

"C'mon," he laughed, taking your hand and leading you after him. You danced after him on your tip-toes, avoiding using your whole shoe and the high heel that elevated you off the ground several inches. "Easy, watch it, careful now," he teased.

"Hey," Farleigh greeted, watching you two go with a smile.

He bet Venetia that this was the summer you two got together. Felix had confided in him that he was considering the idea of settling down, having sowed his wild oats and being tired of running through girls like he had this past year. Farleigh never thought he'd hear such words from Felix Catton, but after seeing you and his cousin running off, he knew, it was only a matter of time before confessions were made.

"There he is," You pointed.

"Ollie!" Felix called, both of you jogging up to him. "Hiya, mate."

"Hey," He greeted you both as Felix didn't stop.

"C'mon, then! Follow us!"

Upon arriving at a stone bridge that passed over a thin stream, you let Felix explain what you were doing and why you were there. "So, in my family, we have this tradition, right? When somebody dies, we write their name on a, er, on a stone," he showed Ollie the stone he made, "and we chuck it in the river. My great-grandfather started it when his son died in the war. We've only done it for Y/N's parents and my dog so far, but... You know, I don't know, I just..."

"It helped, a bit," you filled in when Felix looked at you. You took the stone from Fi's hand and handed it to Ollie, offering, "Felt like our own private goodbye."

When Oliver took the stone and looked it over, Felix anxiously excused, "This feels a bit fucking stupid now."

"No. It's not stupid," Ollie insisted sincerely - only looking at Felix, like the whole world did. "Thank you."

"It's something, right?"

This lead into Felix explaining "what to do", Ollie taking a moment after. When he looked over, he saw Felix had positioned you in front of him, arms wrapped around your neck to keep you close, both screwing your eyes shut in prayer. It would've been endearing had this been an honest memorial...

When the stone was throw, it clattering into the mud on the embankment... A foreshadow you should've paid more attention to. This lead into you three sitting on the stone bannister, skipping the ball, sharing the champagne, and after learning about Ollie's poor living arrangements, for Felix to invite him home with you two. To Saltburn, setting in motion a series of unfortunate events.

That night, you stayed in Felix's dorm, asking, "Are you sure about this?"

"Hmm?"

"Ollie - coming home with us?"

"Oh, yeah, love, it'll be fine," he promised. "Gives us one more person in the house, that's never bad, is it?"

You couldn't answer, you didn't know.

Your first night home was memorable in the sense that Venetia, Felix's older sister, insisted on 'girls night' and locked you both in her room. "So? Did you tell him yet?" She rushed with an excited grin, pouring you both a glass of wine. "Farleigh and I have a bet goin' - "

"Tell who, what?"

She glared, "Don't play coy. You're in love with Felix!"

"Venetia!"

"Oh, shove off, I won't tell him - but does that mean you haven't either?"

"If I did, you honestly think I'd be here?"

"Well, yes - "

"He doesn't feel the same," you insisted, "and if I tell him, he wouldn't want me here anymore, it'd be awkward."

"You're absolutely insane if you think any of that is true!"

"Ven."

"He's mad for you."

"He say that?"

"Well, no, but I can tell."

"It's not gonna happen," you sighed, shaking your head. "Not with all his interests, and those interested in him," you explained bitterly.

"I think you should tell him," she nodded. "It wouldn't hurt to tell the truth, but it might give you both some relief. I promise, he doesn't want you out of his life, so, even by the off chance he doesn't feel the same, he'd still want you around. Oh, know what would be romantic? Writing him a note! You've always been a talented writer."

By the end of the bottle, you and Venetia had started drafting a letter; confessing your feelings and coming up with the grand idea to ask him to meet you in the maze if he felt the same. It was where you both went when wanting solidarity, being a place of worship for you both. The center of the maze was remote, private, being where your tears could be shed and secrets shared.

It felt fitting to meet there.

Your letter wasn't perfected to your standards until Ollie arrived. His first night, you began to feel that tickle in your chest again, and for some reason, you mistook this for 'butterflies' and decided tonight was the night. So, you snuck into Felix's room before dinner, knowing he was already out, and left your note on his bed; unaware that Oliver was watching through the crack in the bathroom door.

He slithered in when you were done, slowly approaching the bed, and fingering the letter. He plucked it in hand, opened the unsealed envelope, and read your confessional; requesting, that if he even had an inkling of returned affection, he'd meet you after dinner, in the maze. At the center, beneath the Minotaur statue.

Ollie stared at your flourish of a signature and instantly crumpled the letter, surging back into his room and shredding it into bits. He swept them away into the waste bin and adjusted his jacket.

"There you are!" Felix smiled, finding you in the hall. "Don't you look nice, darlin'."

"You always say that."

"I always mean it," he grinned, escorting you to the dining room.

Dinner was... Interesting, to say the least.

You were distracted by nerves only Oliver clocked, Venetia giggling and Felix the center of attention - as usual. He reached out a few times to grab your thigh, asking muttered questions in your ear, making sure you were all right after he noticed you had barely eaten. Oliver had to hide his amusement as you just seemed anxious, and when dinner was ended, he watched you scurry from the room as if the Devil was at your heels.

"Oh, is my darling girl all right?" Elspeth asked in concern.

"She had a lot of wine," Farleigh smirked.

"Ah, yes," Mrs. Catton waved off, and Felix stood from the table shortly after.

Oliver stalked by the windows that evening, catching sight of you, still in your evening gown, cutting through the mist to head into the maze. He smirked, hearing Felix in his room - but then catching sight of Venetia through a different window. A different part of his plan roared to life that night; meeting the sultry sister under the moon, both knowing you were waiting in the dark for Felix.

You paced in the cold. Your dress drug through the grass, bare feet tickled.

The hour drug by slowly. You lit another cigarette, watching the mouth of the maze.

The second hour rushed by. Your stomach knotted.

Three, four hours ticked by. And you were left standing alone, in the middle of the maze, coughing and wheezing.

You dropped to your knees when your ailment turned physically violent; fingernails digging into the mud as you choked and heaved, trying in vain to clear your throat. When you stuck your fingers down your throat, you threw up bile, dirt, acid, wine, and long, bright yellow sunflower petals - sobs soon wracking your entire being.

He didn't come... He didn't come. He didn't come.

You threw up twice more, blood staining your chest and dress; teeth outlined in red, the dewy taste of pollen left on your tongue. You sobbed until your head hurt, and sobbed some more; confusion and heartache taking over. When you managed to find your feet, you felt lighter, thinner, smaller, less of yourself than you have ever before.

A piece of you had officially cracked away, being spewed into the mud and grass at the base of the Minotaur statue.

When venturing back to your room, you gasped when you nearly smacked into Duncan. You stared at one another in mild shock, his eyes taking in your state and you quietly begged, "Please... Don't say anything to Sir and Mrs. Catton. I don't want them t'worry until I know what's wrong. I-I'm going to the doctors, Duncan, please, give me time to figure this out."

He nodded sadly, shocked by the blood left behind. The following morning, he didn't wake you... He let you sleep, demanding you be left alone to the waitstaff. When Elspeth questioned your absence at breakfast as Ollie entered the dining room, Duncan was heard, "Miss L/N was up early this morning, went for a run. She went back to bed, said she didn't sleep well."

"Oh, the poor darling," Sir James Catton tutted.

"Morning," Ollie greeted, careful not to let his excitement show over your empty chair beside Felix. Venetia was staring at her brother in near anger, confusing him, but distracted instantly by Oliver's arrival. Sir James greeted him first, Venetia followed, and Felix invited the lad to help himself to a meal.

You had sobbed the whole night, puking bits of blood as the flower petals tightened your windpipe; the tackiness making them stick like glue. You didn't know what to do - there was no way you could face the Cattons now, not after Felix surely told them that you would leave Saltburn (for good) soon.

But sometime after breakfast, there was a knock at your door.

"Come in," you bid quietly, debating if you should start packing or not. When Felix entered, he was holding a bouquet of sunflowers, smiling softly.

"All right, love?"

"What?"

He chuckled, "I'm asking if you're all right, we missed you at breakfast."

You just blinked stupidly, "Uh, y-yeah, guess I am."

"Good," he chirped, approaching you and handing over the flowers. "Got these for you, thought maybe you could use a bit cheering up?"

"Why would I...? Felix, is there - is there anything you want to say to me?"

"Uh, no? Not really, I mean, I was gonna see if you fancied coming with us to the field?"

You stared at him in confusion. "You... Don't want me to go?"

"Go? Go where?" He laughed, "Cause yes, I'd like you to go with us... To the field? I just asked you - you sure you're feeling all right?"

"Um, y-yeah," you swallowed thickly, petals peeling back down your throat. "Thank you, for these," you accepted the flowers.

"Figured, with your parent's anniversary comin' up, should keep you close, you know?"

You shook your head, "Wasn't even on my mind, Fi..."

"And I just put it there, Christ, Felix, fantastic job," he cursed himself, hand through his hair in stress. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean - "

"You didn't, it's fine - I-I mean, I'm fine," you assured, trying to stave off tears. "Actually, Fi, I'm feeling a bit tired, think I'll nap."

"Duncan said you were?"

"No, no, I didn't get back t'sleep," you nearly whispered, needing to clear your throat again. "You lot have fun, I'll find you later."

"Sure? 'S Ollie's first time," he taunted. "Don't wanna miss that, do yah, love? And we're reading The Half-Blood Prince together, can't miss that."

"I'll catch up tonight, promise," you nodded, "just tell me what chapter you get through."

Felix stared at you, reaching to pinch your jaw and pet his thumb down your cheek. He whispered, "Sure you're all right?"

You nodded, shaking off his touch, hating how easy it was to fall in love with him. "Just tired, pretty boy. Promise."

"All right, well... Find us later, yeah?"

"'Course."

But you didn't leave your room for three days, unable to control the vomiting spells, the blood, the pain, the petals... The gutwrenching heartache. Venetia checked on you damn near every other hour, sitting, resting your head in her lap, stroking your locks in comfort as you sobbed.

"Tell me what's happening?" She begged, unable to get it out of you yet. But you felt another wave, jumping from her embrace to rush into the restroom; sliding on your bruised knees in front of the toilet. She followed, and like her brother's done many times, gathered your hair to hold back. "Jesus fucking Christ!" She gaped, seeing the blood and long, bright yellow petals. "Are those - what the fuck is that!?"

You heaved greatly, throat shredding as blooms and stubby stems cut up your esophagus. When you stared at the devastatingly beautiful blooms coated in your blood, floating atop of the water, you looked up at your friend and confessed, "I'm in love with your brother."

"I know, babe - "

"And he doesn't feel the same," you sobbed; breaking down, panting for breath, Venetia dropping to your level to pull you into her chest. "I-I-I left him the letter, Ven, I-I-I asked him to meet me..."

"He didn't show?"

"I waited hours!" You wailed, finally breaking down after the past couple of years caught up to you. "He never came! An-And then, he shows up with flowers - with fucking sunflowers! - acting as if he never saw my letter! Acting as if he didn't know! Like - Like it's easier to ignore than confront!"

"Oh, sweet girl," she whispered, gently rocking you both as you couldn't catch your breath.

Neither of you attended dinner that evening. Felix showed up again, like he had everyday, asking if you were hungry while holding a plate of toast and mug of tea. But you had passed out in Venetia's arms, the fake blonde waving her brother away, doing her best not to snap at him - remembering she made you a promise that she wouldn't interfere. You feared if she got involved, you really would be asked to leave Saltburn and you had nowhere else to go.

The following morning, you were up before Venetia.

"Hey," she grunted, stretching in your bed after spending the night. "You all right? What're you doing?"

"Goin' for a run," you answered, lacing your trainers.

"How do you feel?"

"Well," you sighed, "pretty fucking foolish, but it's summer. Yeah? Best not to dwell on what I can't have..."

"But it's killing you, love," she sat up.

"I'll get over it," you assured, not believing yourself. "If he can act as if nothing's happened, so can I. Do me a favor, though, love?"

"Anything."

"Sit between us?"

She frowned, watching you head out of the room. When she peered from the window, she saw you setting off around the ground and flopped back into bed for another hour.

"Oh, there you are!" Elspeth gasped when you entered the dining room that morning - jetting out of her chair. "Oh, darling, are you all right? Gave us a fright - thought you were sick or something!"

"Just a wee stomach bug, I promise," you accepted her embrace.

"I'm glad you've joined us," she whispered. "Felix has been dreadfully annoying."

"I can hear you, Mum," Felix groaned when you two pulled back. "Ven, hop down one," He told his sister.

"No, no, stay put, love, I can sit here," you assured the siblings, taking the seat on the other side of the sister.

Felix frowned instantly. "Don't think I've ever seen you two sit apart all these years," Sir James teased, reaching to pat your hand. "Good to have you join us, darling."

"Thank you," you whispered, Duncan placing a plate before you.

"How come she's served?" Ollie wondered without thinking.

"Miss Y/N has been unwell," Duncan replied stiffly.

"Oh, tell the truth, Duncan," you smirked, "I'm just your favorite."

It spurred the family on, Farleigh offering you a look of confusion from across the table. You waved him off, not once looking to your left at Felix - only ever answering Venetia by looking directly at her, avoiding her brother.

Felix felt something in his gut shift as you avoided him more and more. Venetia all but moved into your room, or you into hers - not wanting you alone in this time of duress. Meaning, each time Felix tried to get you alone for questioning, his sister was driving him away. When hanging out as a group, you no longer were at Felix's side, but opted for Venetia and Farleigh's.

It left a gaping hole for Ollie to fill - happily.

"Did I do something, you think?" He asked Oliver one day, floating in the lake, watching you braid Ven's hair as she read from her copy of The Half-Blood Prince.

"No, just maybe," Ollie shrugged, "it's, I don't know, girl stuff?"

"I'm her best mate, she never avoids me like this," Felix frowned. Oliver hated how genuinely hurt Felix sounded. "Seriously, what did I do?"

"I couldn't say, mate. Maybe just let her cool off, come to you when ready," he advised, watching Felix nod sadly and stare at you from behind his sunnies. He craved Felix's attention that you so effortlessly warranted.

You didn't sit with Felix during movie nights anymore, opting for the furthest seat on the floor at Sir James' feet. You didn't spend the night in his room once, nor let him into yours. You weren't on his tennis team. You didn't share sunbeds.

You no longer met for midnight swims, something that made Felix explicitly sad. He waited with his feet in the water, but this time, you were the one who never showed up.

You didn't sit with him at meals, making his family acutely suspicious. Yet neither of you seemed at odds - so, what were the truly worried over? You acted as if there wasn't a thing wrong, but they all noticed the sickly state you took on.

You thinned out, you barely ate a fourth of your meals, you went on runs as often as you could - even in the sweltering heat. You barely slept, creating bags under your eyes, dull, lifeless hair, and a concerning docile attitude. It was as if you were haunting the castle, barely visible, making yourself into a shell of who you once were.

You simply weren't yourself and the Cattons had no idea how to help. Elspeth sent tea to your room. Sir James let you pick movies for family movie nights, but you never seemed interested. Farleigh tried to engage you on the daily, but nothing seemed to register. Even Oliver put on a show by approaching you at the lake, sitting beside you, trying to strike a conversation.

"Sorry, Ollie, I was about t'go for a run," you eased.

"Been goin' on a lot of those. Want company?"

"No," you refused.

"Sure it's a good idea?" He asked. "Been throwing up a lot, might make it worse."

This made you freeze from where you had stood, slowly turning to look down at him. "Excuse me?" You seethed. "You spying on me?"

"I can hear yah sometimes," he nodded. "You're hiding it from the others, aren't yah? The blood, the tears... The way you're wasting away?"

From a short distance, Felix recognized the angry look and body language you wore. Slowly lowering yourself, you hissed to Ollie, "You keep your fucking mouth shut or I'll make sure you're on the first train back to fucking nowhere tomorrow morning. Hear me? You don't know shit about a Goddamn thing, you don't fucking know me, and if you're smart, you'll shut the fuck up, Oliver."

He watched you with a small smirk; standing over him before vacating the lake's shore.

That night, Oliver heard moaning from the adjoining bathroom. Upon his 'investigation', he spied Felix in the clawed-foot bathtub; steam wafting from the water, sweat beading down his skin, and bicep pumping vigorously as he pleasured himself. But what infuriated Oliver was the subtle, nearly slurred and unintelligible moan of your name from Felix's mouth. It seems, despite his best effort to drive a wedge between you two, there was lingering emotion that neither knew what to do with.

You were withering away, and Felix was self pleasuring to you.

Oliver had to up the ante, but how? You avoided the Cattons on a rotating basis - not letting any of them too close to figure out you were devastatingly ill, except Venetia. And the sister wasn't about to spill this darkening secret of yours, she was loyal to a fault.

Only Oliver seemed to know this dark little tale, figuring Felix hadn't even admitted his feelings for you to himself. Perhaps why he found relief in the tub, releasing into the water with a tear falling from his eye over the idea that you no longer wanted to sustain a friendship. It was all terribly confusing for the summer residents at Saltburn. And yet, in an effort to feel closer to Felix than you ever had, Oliver climbed into the draining bathtub and slurped Felix's cum as if it were water from The Holy Grail.

It made him feel superior. It made him feel as if he were winning an endless race. Made him feel like he was validated in pushing you out in favor of himself - no matter the history between you and the Cattons. Made him feel like he was solidifying himself amongst the distant royalty and you were giving reason to be thrown out of Saltburn.

But he would underestimate the power of family.

He got a little too cocky the night he met Venetia outside, in the moonlight, with Farleigh watching from his window.

The following morning, there was a pounding at your door - a rare night Ven didn't sleep with you. When you opened the door, Felix came pushing in, looking purely distraught.

"Look, I know you're pissed at me for whatever reason - but I fucking need to talk to you, okay? Please - I-I feel like I'm about to lose my mind, Y/N, love, please - "

"What's happened?" You asked, shutting the door. "I was about to head out - "

"Please, love! Please!"

"Christ Almighty, all right, the fuck's goin' on with you? Hey? Looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke," you approached him, caressing his bicep. "What happened?"

"He kissed her."

"Come again?"

"Fucking Ollie - Oliver! He fucking kissed Venetia!"

"When?"

"Last night, Farleigh saw them."

"Oh, love, c'mon, you know Farleigh doesn't like Ollie."

"So, he's lying? You think he's lying?"

"I didn't say that, but you're all worked up. C'mon, just breathe for a minute, gonna pass out from the way you're huffin' and puffin'."

"Please, be serious! This is serious!"

"I know it is, I'm just trying to be rational."

"So, Farleigh's lying."

"Well, I don't think so - kinda a huge lie t'tell, innit?"

"I thought so," he snapped, hand through his hair in anxiety. "I-I mean, how could he? How could Ollie do this - I-I mean, my sister? My fucking sister?"

"Love, if you're this worked up, just go talk to him," you tried. "Ask Ollie point-blank what happened."

"Would you ask Venetia?"

"No, darling, that's not how this works."

"Well, how will we know who's lying? Farleigh or Ollie?"

"I don't know - is this even something to lie about? What did Farleigh say?"

"He saw them - tonguing - practically eating each other!"

You sighed, "Love? You're not gonna want t'hear this."

"God, what?"

"Venetia's a big girl, she can tongue and eat who she pleases."

"It's bad form, though, innit? I mean - he's my friend, my guest, here under my invitation, and he gets with my sister?"

You shrugged slightly, "I don't know, Fi, but she's allowed to do as she pleases; Ollie, too. It's not like either are dating someone, hey? What? You jealous? Of your sister?"

"Fuck off with that, know that's not it," he snapped again.

"What is it, then?"

"It's another Eddie situation!"

You sighed, "Fi... You can't horde people, right? Ollie bein' here, he's free game to you, Farleigh, Ven."

"And you?"

"Fuck no, lad gives me the creeps," you blanched.

"Still?"

"Yeah, fuckin' still. Call it intuition, but there's something off, Felix. I know you don't want to hear it, but when I have ever been wrong? Huh? Tell me."

"You've not been."

"Exactly - I know a leech when I see one. So, you draw your assumptions, but perhaps what Farleigh saw is true, perhaps not - but you'll get more answers by confronting the truth than ignoring it."

He sighed, dropping to your bed, shaking his head. "Well..." He mumbled, "What do you think?"

You paused, "Doesn't matter."

"Does to me. Please, love, it's Eddie again and I don't - "

"All right," you relented, sitting beside him. "My money's on... Something happened, it's just a matter of what, exactly. How about we go to breakfast, see what the energy is there."

"Feels like I can't stomach anything."

"Your mother and father will be upset if we don't go down, c'mon," you whispered, standing, offering your hand. "I'll sit with you, and if you get upset, you can just lean into me, yeah?"

He took your hand, but didn't get up. He just stared at where you were conjoined, rubbing your hand with his thumb. "Does this mean we're fine? That things are... Are things okay between us?"

"Never not been fine, Fi."

"You've avoided me since we got here."

"I've been dealing with shit - "

"That you won't tell me about," he scoffed.

"Yeah," you agreed, his eyes shooting up to meet yours, "you're right, I won't tell you 'cause I can't yet. I want answers first... Then we can talk. I've gotta figure this out for myself, Fi."

"Well, I can help, you know?"

"No, you've helped plenty," you alluded. "C'mon, breakfast."

"Fuck's sake," he grumbled, finally standing, but tightening his grip on your hand. You lead the way to the terrace the Cattons decided to dine at that morning, being the last two to arrive.

There were two seats side-by-side.

"Good morning," you greeted the family that took you in, Felix silent and angry as he took his seat - but still pulled yours out.

"Morning."

"Good morning, darlings," Elspeth breathed from the head of the table.

"You sleep well?" Ollie asked as Felix whipped his cloth napkin to his lap.

"No, not really, mate," he grit, not looking at the boy and instead, reached for your hand. You handed him a cigarette, placing your own between your lips - both forgoing morning meals.

"We're 30 for dinner tomorrow night," Sir James informed the table. "Stopford Sackville has cried off."

"Oh, dear, that's a shame," Elspeth feigned sympathy.

"God, I forgot about fucking dinner," Felix tilted his head back, speaking between his stick as you lit the end of yours - then reaching for his after nudging his bulging bicep to warrant his immediate attention.

"Wait, who is coming to dinner, again?" Farleigh asked.

"The Henrys," Ven reminded.

"No, please!" Farleigh whined quietly.

"Who are the Henrys?" Ollie asked.

"Dad's friends," Ven filled in, Felix glaring at you as you laced your hand with his and squeezed in warning. "They're all called Henry."

"Not all of them," James corrected. "Just most."

"It'll be fun," Elspeth assured.

"It'll be being molested by Henry," Ven continued, swallowing a bite of croissant. "You know which one."

"Oh, I'll put you next to Oliver, then, he can molest you instead," Elspeth quipped, Felix strangling your hand.

"Don't," you whispered, Ollie's head cocking at Ven in an unspoken conversation. She hummed an amused chuckle. Felix glared at them both before looking back at you, silently begging you to let him snap. "Not right now, please, just breathe," you whispered in his ear, ensuring none others heard you.

"Oh, Oliver, I was going to say, we should do something fun for your birthday. Y/N's is at the end of the summer, we can combine efforts! A proper party! No Henrys, something actually fun. What do you think, darling?"

"Mum, you know Y/N doesn't celebrate anymore," Felix seethed with offense.

"Oh, I know, but it might be fun - a combination party?" She offered. "Darling?"

"If Oliver and Y/N would like it, I think it's a splendid idea," James agreed with his wife.

"I think Oliver looks like he'd rather throw himself out of a window," Farleigh chimed, everyone knowing to avoid asking you your thoughts since you couldn't celebrate without your parents - it just felt wrong. Like a betrayal. So, you no longer celebrated the day of your birth, but the Cattons looked for any reason to throw a party.

"What kind of party?" Oliver asked Elspeth.

"I don't know, whatever you want!" She insisted. "What do you think? About 100 people?"

"A hundred?"

"Or two! It invariably ends up being two, doesn't it, with this sort of thing?" She asked her husband, who hummed in amusement. She told Ollie, "Invite whoever you want. All your friends."

"What friends?" Farleigh leered.

"Oh! Oh!" James folded his paper messily in excitement, jumping to attention, "How about fancy dress?"

Ollie reached over and nudged Felix in curiosity, picking up on his angry demeanor. Your best mate looked down at you, making you lean your chin on his shoulder. "Oh, yes!" Mrs. Catton agreed.

"I can wear my suit of armor, Elspeth!" James giddily exclaimed with a childlike grin that made your heart weep gently.

"Good idea, darling," she agreed as Venetia stood hastily from the table; all knowing where she was going, and what she was going to do. "We could have a theme!" She distracted, you watching Venetia and knowing you needed to follow. She'd been caring for you in your illness, you could at least hold her hair back, too. "What about Midsummer Night's Dream?" Elspeth looked around for opinions.

"Lovely," James prasied.

"Bring on the slutty fairies," Farleigh mused.

"Awh, lovie, you'll still be the sluttiest fairy, don't worry," you teased, glancing back again and seeing Venetia escape inside.

"You wanna match my sluttiness?" He asked you.

"As if that was ever in question," you shot back, Felix offering you a small look. "I'll be right back," you excused yourself, standing from your seat but bending at the waist. You whispered in Felix's ear, "I've gotta go, 'M sorry, just keep calm, love. You're all right."

"Find me later," he requested, holding your hand a moment longer before letting you escape.

"So," James grinned as you walked away, leaning in towards his son, "how are things with you two?"

"Yes, darling, you two seem better! Did you finally tell her how you feel?" Elspeth asked.

If Felix was surprised by his parents knowledge, he didn't show; instead scoffing lightly, "Yeah, right..."

"Oh, darling - "

"She doesn't feel the same, Mum," he refused, sighing deeply - making Oliver's stomach coil. "Just leave it, all right? We're just friends, only ever gonna be just friends - she's part of the family. No need to mess all that up."

Farleigh smirked subtly and took a drag from his cigarette.

While hosting the Henrys for dinner, you felt another tide turn while sitting amongst the rich and fabulous. You knew them all, of course, grew up knowing them and attending these dinners with your parents. But something was amiss, something churned your stomach and clenched your heart.

You felt your chest tickle and tighten, the desperate need to cough nearly strangling you; Oliver paying close attention to your struggle from beside Felix. You coughed unexpectedly, seeing blood splatter onto your plate and without a single person noticing, you got up, excused yourself, and rushed from the dinner table with a hand over your mouth. Duncan swiftly cleared your place setting.

"Hear that, love?" Felix turned to look at you, only finding an empty seat. He looked around in case you were mingling, not spying you, and slowly got to his feet.

"Where are you going, darling?" James asked, "Sit, sit - "

"I'm only going to check on Y/N," he explained.

"No, no, sit, sit, sit, we know she's been fighting her stomach all summer," James waved off, and slowly, Felix went against his instinct and sat down. Venetia felt her heart steel in annoyance, wishing her brother would just wake up and realize what was happening.

When Oliver caught Venetia's eye, she questioned, "Felix warned you off, then?"

"Well, maybe we just need to be a bit more careful," he hushed.

"No, thanks," Ven refused, not one to sneak around her own home to satisfy her brother's jealously and possessiveness. "It's just sooooo disappointing," she snipped. "You're just another one of his toys."

"Like Y/N?"

"Y/N's not a toy," she barked.

"You're upset," Oliver noted.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm used to it - honestly. I mean, he never liked sharing his toys. Even the ones he doesn't want to play with anymore."

Oliver cocked his head, wondering, "Well, he's kept Y/N around this long."

"Y/N isn't a toy, Oliver, not to Felix, not to this family," she sneered in anger. "And he won't ever grow tired of her, she doesn't hold a temporary position in his life - unlike most." She chuckled dryly, "Honestly, do you not get it by now? She's the gatekeeper, and you're just a passing interest. You won't ever truly be his because she already is, and there's no replacing Y/N L/N - not to Felix, not in this lifetime." She offered a fake smile and turned from him to face her left, distracted by one of the Henrys.

Oliver knew all that, and he was working on removing you from the portrait - but it seemed, maybe he didn't have to work too hard. A rare disease had infected you the moment Oliver Quick laid eyes on Felix Catton - eating away at you internally, making you lose interest in yourself, plaguing you with self doubt to the point you couldn't look in a mirror without seeing a stranger. When Oliver decided to act against the pretty, rich boy, he started a chain of events that lead here: him, in a tux, at a dinner party, and you, shattering the frail skin on your knees from how hard you dropped to them - spewing blood, wine, and sunflower blossoms.

You choked harshly, make up ruined from your blood, sweat, and tears; hacking out most of a put-together flower. Your throat was shredded, dripping blood down into your lungs to slowly fill them again - floral growth breaking the barrier of your organs, sending unimaginable pain through your body.

You heard the karaoke begin, heaving over the sounds of drunken antics. You slowly crawled out of the bathroom, sniffling as you used your bed to lift your fragile body to your feet only to strip from your gown and crash into bed. Weakness invaded your muscles, exhaustion coated your bones, and your eyes stung with the endless supply of tears that would stain your cheeks.

Morning came far too quickly, and with it, Farleigh's forced departure from Saltburn. You were all dreadfully confused, Venetia explaining he'd been caught nicking items from around the house to sell for a profit - perhaps feeling desperate, wanting to help his mother without needing to ask for the help.

You weren't sure what to say to the situation, so you said nothing, but felt desperate to scream for your own help at the top of your lungs. The closer Ollie's birthday drew, the more you bent over the toilet, the more blooms that tore from your lungs and esophagus. You were at a loss over what to do, fearing you were too late for a doctor, and on the hottest day of the year, while everyone was outside by the water, you were inside, scouring the vast and random library.

"Miss," Duncan leered from behind you, no longer causing fright. "Is there something I can help you locate?"

"No, I'm just doin' some more research, Duncan, thank you, though."

"On what's wrong, Miss?"

"Yeah," you frowned, storing another book. "Nothing answers my questions, nothing explains this condition."

"Hm," he considered, "may I?"

"Please," you gestured him forward, watching in mild curiosity as he moved the ladder, ascended, looked over the spines of the many books and then made his selection.

"I've read every book in this library, and think this might help," He explained, handing you the dark green book about Japanese lore and watching you instantly finger through it.

You eyed him for a moment, asking, "You haven't told them, have you?"

"I found your request for privacy reasonable," he nodded, "and have not told the masters of the house."

You nodded, breathing in relief. "I promise, I'll tell them soon - when I figure this out."

"I think you already have," he mentioned, glancing at the open book in your hands. When you looked down, you had paused on a page titled: Hanahaki Disease.

The chapter was filled with detailed accounts of previous patients and sufferers; all giving a recollection of their battle with the unknown illness. You looked up at Duncan in shock, rereading the passage that told you what you needed to know:

"Hanahaki Disease can be fatal by making the infected vomit flora; either just petals or full blooms. There are three known variations of the disease, but all are caused by unrequited love - making the process often long, drawn out, and incredibly painful. The first variation involves the infected confessing their love to their desired, and that love being returned. This is the cleanest way to cure Hanahaki Disease. The second variation includes the desired not returning the known affection, leaving the infected to undergo surgery, a viable but messy recovery. The operation removes the plants growing in the lungs, but in turn, also removes all known traces and memory of the desired - but it does result in the infected being cured. The third and final variation is the worst, where the infected confesses, the desired does not return any affection or want, and leaves them to suffer until the bitter, bloody end. Without care or caution, this disease can become unmanageable with common side effects including but not limited to: blood loss, weight loss, avoidance, isolation, fear of food, fear of living, fear of affection, miscommunication, blood from other bodily orifices, and uncontrollable depression, anxiety, and other mental afflictions. Most infected never fully recover from the aftermath of this disease, and even when their love is returned, they are often haunted by the damaging effects of unrequited love."

You stared at the passage in shock, looking up slowly to spy Duncan staring at you in pity.

"I had a companion like you are to Mr. Felix, once," he confessed. "I was dedicated to my job, loyal to the Cattons, and in turn, he suffered greatly because I couldn't love him how he deserved." Duncan blinked at you twice in the silence that stretched between you. "My advice, Miss? Do not wait - you should come clean to Mr. Felix, let him decide how he feels, and should he not return your affection, I will take you personally to the hospital, where you might choose to undergo the procedure."

"And lose all memory of Felix? Of the Cattons? Of Saltburn?" You asked in desperation, tears swelling in your sunken eyes. "Not likely, Duncan, they're my family. I couldn't bear to forget them, even if it means I should live - I wouldn't be alive anymore. Not without him, not without this family that took me in without a moment's hesitation. I'd lose myself."

"But you'd have the chance to discover something new," he argued gently. "You have your own decisions to make, Miss, but I can only tell you my deepest regret was being so far up Sir James' arse that I missed the life that passed me by. And now," he sighed, "I live with the fact that I condemned my beautiful Roger."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Duncan..."

"I do not wish to see you suffer more than you have been," he frowned. "But I understand the fear you have, emotions are terrifying, especially for the young. But love is not conditional, Miss... Remember that. And having only a part of Mr. Felix would result in losing yourself entirely, whereas losing a part of him would result in you rediscovering all you are. Just... Just something to think about."

"How did you find this?" You asked softly.

"After Roger, I had no reason to care for much else other than the written accounts of those who passed before me. It felt like I was given a life to live, if only vicariously. I've read them all," he reminded, gesturing to the grand library, "and when I found this, I knew I had my answers. That being afraid costs us more than being brave."

You read the book in its entirety. You soaked in every recorded account.

Duncan's words weighed on your heart, and the last few nights leading up to Oliver's party were spent on bruised knees. Venetia still slept in your room a few nights a week, begging you to seek medical attention, and you promised her, after the party, you'd take action. She didn't need to know you were lying just yet.

But as it seemed, your lies were minuscule in comparison to others.

The day of the party arrived, Felix taking Ollie out for a drive as a birthday present. Where their destination was, you didn't know, you couldn't care, because watching them drive off the property dropped you to the ground as your heart felt as if it were physically shattered. You couldn't breath, the sunflowers strangling you from the inside, and after watching the love of your life drive off with another lad, you felt as if your fate was sealed.

That was it.

He didn't love you, he had Ollie. There was only so much love to be given at a time, and Ollie soaked it all up. You didn't stand a chance, you knew Felix's infatuation was out of control with Ollie's pitiful background piquing his interest. You felt like old news, you felt abandoned, alone, cold, heartless...

"What're you wearing tonight?" Venetia asked, tossing pieces of clothing around. "Felix is wearing these sort of golden wings, want to match?"

"What are you wearing, love? Maybe I'll match with you?"

"No, no," she grinned, "I've just found the perfect outfit for you!"

She squealed in excitement, turning to show you the dress seemingly made out of strips of fabric and a corset; creating an ethereal look and design. The color was pale, moss green with shimmering pale golds and nudes paired amongst the fabric. It created an illusion that the mini dress moved and swished around your thighs, and when she handed you golden gladiator sandals, you were sold.

Venetia spent more time helping you get ready than she did herself. She ensured your hair was pinned off your neck, that your make-up was mystical and covered in glitter, corset cinched at the waist to show your figure, and that you had a smaller pair of golden wings to top off your slutty fairy look.

Farleigh would've been proud.

The dress showed off your back, only thin straps keeping it in place as the wings were small enough that you weren't hidden under them. You showed more skin in that dress than you had all summer, your thinning frame tailored under Venetia's talented fingers.

Her hands clapped when you showed her the final look.

"Love the spider web chain," you complimented, clipped her in.

"Sure?"

"It's a look, Ven, you're stunning," you complimented, smiling at your friend with genuine kindness. "C'mon, I think I can hear people arriving."

Once more, Venetia squealed and snatched your hand, racing from her room and leading you into the party on the grounds as the sun was beginning to set. After greeting Elspeth and Sir James, complimenting their chosen costumes, you were sucked into a night of young debauchery; Venetia pinned to your side.

And thankfully, she was there to witness the moment you gave up. Moving through one of the darkened rooms, you were mingling with old classmates, happy to see familiar, friendly faces, and just as you turned, your glass shattered to the floor with the last bit of your heart and composure.

You saw Felix, clear as day, dancing with none other then fucking India - the girl you felt most in competition with, besides Annabel. He was so close to her, they were practically fucking; seemingly distracted by one another, they didn't even notice the party.

"Oh, love," Ven turned to you, but you just gave her a pained look.

"I'm gonna go," you rushed.

"No, wait - "

"I need to be alone, Ven," you insisted, the tears starting as your chest felt too tight in the crowded room. "I told you, I fucking told you, he doesn't feel the same," you sniffled, her eyes widening as you felt a familiar metallic taste in your mouth.

When your hand lifted, you smeared blood from your lips and nostrils, blinking in recognition - knowing what was to come next.

"I-I-I have to go, 'M sorry," you rushed, blood oozing and dripping down your neck in artistic scribbles. You didn't bother hiding this time, turning from your fellow drunkards to escape outside - heading for the maze, like you always did when needing to be alone.

Your room wasn't safe, anyone could find you there. The entire home was overrun with party-goers. The grounds surrounding Saltburn unsafe for your breakdown, as well.

So, you raced to the one place you felt safe anymore: the maze.

Your blood stained the shrubbery as you stumbled through it, trying to hold together, but the moment you reached the Minotaur statue, your legs gave up, mud squishing to your knees, and instantly coughing, hacking, and heaving blood from your lungs.

Long, pretty bright yellow sunflower petals came out in an abundance, the most it's ever been, before you were vomiting full blooms again.

You felt woozy, dizzy... Less than human.

You just wanted it to stop.

When you left Venetia's side, she noted you beelining outside and knew immediately where you had run off to. In unfiltered anger, she turned and shoved through the crowd up to her brother, grabbed him by the strap of his wife beater, and yanked him after her.

"Oi! Hey, hey, hey, Venetia! What the fuck are you doing!?"

"You've fucked up!" She raged, ignoring the looks from others and lead him outside so they could hear each other.

"Are you out of your mind?" He demanded.

"Are you!?" She sneered. "The fuck are you doing!?"

"What?" He scoffed, "What am I doing wrong, dancing at our party? Hmm?"

"With that skank!?"

"Hey!" India barked, having followed them outside.

"This doesn't concern you!" Ven barked, Felix feeling on-edge with his sister so enraged.

"You're talkin' about me, I think it does!"

"Ven, what the hell's gotten into you - "

"It's about Y/N!"

Felix froze for a moment, then looked at India, "Go inside."

"What!?"

"Piss off, India! She's right, this doesn't concern you!" He snapped, the girl scurrying away with her tail tucked firmly between her legs. When Felix looked at his sister, he demanded in a rush, "What about Y/N? Where even is she - "

"I promised her I wouldn't intervene, I swore I wouldn't say anything - especially to you, but you're such a fucking idiot, if you're not fed anything, you don't get it!"

"Is this really the time to insult me?"

She glared, steeling her jaw and gritting, "Y/N's in the maze."

"Okay? She goes there - "

"No, listen to me," Ven sneered. "She's been in love with you, Farleigh and I both figured it out - but it was really fucking obvious."

Felix blanched in shock, "What?"

"She's in love with you, you fucking idiot! She's been sick the whole summer because you can't love her back!"

"How - what are you on about!?"

"She's been throwing up blood, you're honestly killing her by doing what you're doing with all these girls! By ignoring whatever you feel - by denying it repeatedly! It's not fair! All she's done is love and support you, care for you, protect you, and you're fucking killing her!"

He blinked, "She loves me?"

"Yes, you fucking imbecile! And tonight was her last straw, I fucking saw it! She lives here, you jagoff, and you're dancing with India - right in front of Y/N? In her own home? Where she's supposed to be safe!?"

"I-I didn't - I didn't know!"

"No shit, because you're both fucking idiots who talk about everything except your feelings! Do better, Felix! Now, go! She needs you to be a fucking man - go! She needs you, Felix, she's in the maze, don't fuck this up more than you have!"

He didn't hesitate to shoot off in the direction of the maze, Farleigh catching sight and pushing his brows together before realizing he was sprinting after you - I mean, who else would Felix move that fast for? Into the maze Felix went, and Farleigh knew, everything was about to change. Elspeth and Sir James didn't notice a thing, too distracted by their party, but there was another watching; a set of dead, ghostly blue eyes nearly glowing in the night as they locked onto their prey fleeing the party.

Felix sprinted his way through the maze, an expert at navigating, and when he made it to the center, his own heart constricted to a suffocating depth.

"Oh, my girl," he rushed to your side, getting on his knees and holding your weakening body as crimson dribbled from your mouth. The pool of blood was grand enough that he worried how you'd make it through the night; floating sunflowers a hauntingly beautiful sight in the dead of night. "Hey, hey, you're okay, you're all right, I got you - I'm here," he whispered, smoothing hair from your face. "It's me, it's your Felix, love, just focus on me, yeah?"

And finally, with a sniffle that did little to nothing, you looked into his eyes with yours rimmed in red. "Fi..."

"Don't talk, save your energy, I'm gonna get you somewhere safe - "

"I've gotta tell you something."

"Tell me after we get to your room, yeah?"

Your head shook, "If I wait longer, it'll get worse."

"Sweetheart, please - "

"I'm in love with you," you finally confessed to him, unable to look him in the eyes for a second longer. You stared at your demise, blood soaking into both your knees. "Have been, I think, since I moved in here," you whimpered, "and after my parents died, I fell so fucking in love with you that it hurt. But out of fear of losing this friendship, I couldn't - I couldn't tell you. And now, it's killing me, but you deserve to know: I'm so fucking in love with you, makes me physically ill. I-I can't do this anymore, Fi, I just can't - the pain is too much and I've already lost so much - "

"Felix?" Ollie called in a drunken whine, entering the center.

"Oh, Jesus Christ, man!" Felix snapped, whipping around to glare at Ollie as you folded into his chest out of sheer pain. Of course, in the midst of your confession, nobody but Oliver fucking Quick would show up. "Get out of here! Now, Ollie, I'm not fucking joking!"

"Is she all right?" He asked, stumbling a bit.

"What the fuck are you still doing here!? Get out, fucking go, this doesn't concern you!"

"We need to talk, I need to talk to you!"

"It's fine, talk t'him," you wheezed, trying to get to your feet, but failing out of sheer weakness.

"No, you need to fucking go, Ollie! Now! Y/N and I need to talk a helluva lot more than we do!"

You used his shoulders to stand, "Talk t'him, Fi, don't let this shit happen t'someone else." He glanced to your blood as you let go of him, stumbling just out of reach, towards one of the maze exits.

"We need to talk, Felix!" Ollie demanded as you slipped out of sight.

"No, you know what? Fuck you!" He barked. "You're not what's important right now, Ollie! For fuck's sake!"

"Don't go after her," Ollie sneered, stepping in Felix's way when he climbed to his feet and meant to go after you.

"Fuck is wrong with you, mate!?" Felix raged, shoving Ollie back several steps. "Hey? So fucked in the head, you think you take precedence over my girl?"

"Y-Your girl?"

"Fucking Y/N!" He shouted. "Yes! My fucking girl, that I was so blinded by you to fucking see what was wrong! Now fuck off!"

"She's nothing - "

"SHE'S FUCKING EVERYTHING!" Felix shouted, you pausing in the maze when you heard it. "You and I can talk later, if I even fucking want to, but right now, my girl needs me - not fucking you!"

"I see she's got you so blinded - "

"You think Y/N's the problem here?" Felix sneered, getting in Ollie's face; fisting the lapels of his blazer. "Huh? You blaming her?"

"No, just saying - "

"All the wrong fucking things," Felix shoved him back again. "She's all that fucking matters to me!" He shouted again, you slowly nearing the entrance into the center of the maze, remaining hidden behind a shrub. "Not you, not all your lies - but her! It's always been her, but you fucking knew that, didn't you!? You saw what we were, what we had, what we could've been, what we were dancing around, and just had to wedge yourself between us, yeah? I didn't see it before, but your fucking lies - all your fucking lies, you were trying to ruin the best thing in my life! And you might've just succeeded!"

"She doesn't deserve you! None of them do!"

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Oliver!?" Felix cried, "Leave me the fuck alone! Leave us the fuck alone! Leave my family the fuck alone! Christ! Please, stop!"

"We need to talk!" Ollie now approached Felix, making him back up into the statue.

"We can't - we can't, are you fucking crazy? Haven't you ruined enough!?"

"Me!?" He snarled. "I didn't ruin shit, it was her! It was all her, don't you see? You pitied us against each other, I had to do this! For you! You can't just throw me away!"

Felix lost his temper, shoving Oliver again, "Get the fuck away from me! I can! I can and I will throw you away - for her! I'd do anything for her, don't you fucking get that!? I didn't see before, but now I do, the slimy, scum you are - and I'd throw you away a hundred times if it meant being with her! Fuck out of here, leave us alone!"

Oliver shouted as he grabbed Felix's shirt, "Look, I just gave you what you wanted!" His voice lowered to a quiver, "Like everyone else does. Everyone puts on a show for Felix! So, I'm sorry that my - m-m-my performance wasn't good enough, like Y/N's always is."

You crept from the shadows, neither lad noticing; intrigued by the words being slurred, shouted, and weaponized.

"I think... I think you need to see somebody," Felix whispered, not willing to admit aloud that Oliver was scaring him. "You need help, okay? Seriously."

"No. No, I don't," Ollie sneered - sounding almost sober. "I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you."

And there it was - another confession. Your heart (or whatever was left of it) felt heavy, like it was being constricted and anchored to your feet.

Felix whispered, "I love Y/N, mate, you have to know - wasn't exactly a huge secret, except to us. To her and I, not you and I, Ollie."

You felt something akin to shock spark in your gut, blooming an unknown warmth through your body.

Oliver begged, "You're the only friend I ever had, Felix." His thumbs pet Felix's face despite him trying to wriggle away; being touched by the psychotic liar terrifying him - but no more than the feeling of dread he had watching you stumble away. "Okay... I mean, doesn't this just prove how much - how much of a good friend I actually am? How well I actually know you? I'm still the same person! Yeah?" He whimpered, "I'm still the same person."

"I don't know what you are," Felix whispered in reply. "But I do know you," he paused, confessing, "you make my fucking blood run cold." His head shook, "I know friendship - and it's not this, Ollie, it's not built on lies and deception. Y/N? She's everything to me, mate, and you tried to ruin that. You're a fucking liar, Ollie."

He gagged a little, releasing Felix to stare at him with a sense of defeat. Oliver gagged again, shoving the opened champagne to Felix's chest, muttering, "Wait there a sec," before stepping away to throw up on the opposite side of the statue. He knew the other boy wouldn't be able to resist an open bottle of alcohol.

However, Felix felt it was his opening to escape, and when he looked up, he caught sight of you.

Your finger rose to your lips in a silencing motion, glancing at a puking Oliver, and Felix didn't hesitate to drop the bottle and race for you. When his hands smoothed over either of your cheeks, he checked behind him - seeing Ollie still at a distance - stooping to scoop you in his arms, whispering, "We have to go, love, fucking now."

You agreed and let him rush away into the maze, and before you could exit, Oliver was heard bellowing, "FELIX!"

"What the fuck was all that?" You asked, hiding yourself in his neck; neither caring for the blood being stained.

"I'll explain everything in a minute, love, let me get you somewhere safe," he rushed, the party sounding around you once more. He deflected anyone who got in the way, shoulders bullying past people, ignoring his name being cried out. Up the stairs, down a hall or two, and he was rounding into your room. "All right, hang on," he deposited you on your bed, rushing into your restroom and locking all the doors except the one connecting your room. The main door was also locked.

"What's going on?" You asked.

"He's a liar," Felix panted, wrangling from his wings as he approached you. "But it doesn't matter right now - what matters is our truth. You were interrupted before, but I have to tell you, sweetheart, that your affection isn't one-sided. Okay?" He knelt before you, taking both cheeks in hand. "You're not alone in this, I-I should've told you so much sooner, but I love you, too. No, no, I'm - I'm in love with you and I'm so sorry I didn't say it. Hear me? I'm in love with you, Y/N, I'm so sorry I was selfish, that I didn't see the pain you were in that I was causing."

"Wasn't your fault," you whispered.

"It's all my fault."

"I should've said something, too."

"You're the one who's been suffering all this time, this is on me. Okay?" His head shook, wiping the streams of blood from your nose and lips. "You're a fucking wreck, darling, should've said something so much sooner - saved you from all this pain."

"I was afraid, and didn't want you to know."

"I made you feel as if you couldn't talk to me," his head shook. "Listen to me, I-I have to go warn Mum and Dad about Oliver, but you stay here - "

"You're not leaving," you insisted. "Call Venetia's cell or Farleigh's, tell them whatever you're worried about, and stay here, with me, where you're safe. I don't know what I heard, but I don't think Ollie's well in the head and he's gonna gun for you."

He sighed, "They won't answer. The party's - "

"Just try..."

He agreed and grabbed his cell phone from his pocket, dialing his sister as he got you a wet cloth. She answered when he was knelt in front of you again, wiping the remnants of your near-death experience from your face as he explained at a rapid speed a condensed version of events.

When Venetia assured she would tell Elspeth and James, he hung up and brought you in for a tight hug. "Should've told you," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"I am, too," you whimpered, holding onto his neck tightly.

"C'mon," he sighed, pulling back to gaze at you, "let's get you changed and in bed - 's been a fucking nightmare tonight."

"How fitting."

"How so?"

You half-smirked, "A Midsummer Nightmare's Dream, innit?" He matched your fleeting amusement.

That night, you and Felix slept beside each other in a secure and locked room; both unconscious when Oliver approached your door and tried to get in before being apprehended by two footmen. He was locked in the basement for the night, given the chance to sober up before morning, when the police would be phoned.

When the sun broke the horizon, Felix woke with a start. You were already awake, looking up at his pale face, begging him to tell you the truth behind Oliver. He looked as if he would be sick, giving you a detailed summary of what happened the day before - all the lies Ollie told, how his parents were alive, well, and very kind. How nothing he's told Felix was true - all some form of fucked up lie to make him seem more broken for Felix's endearment.

"Am I that bad, love?" He asked in a hushed tone.

"No, you're just... You just have an affinity for broken things," you answered. "And he gave you what you wanted, tenfold."

"I feel so stupid."

"For being kind?" You shook your head, caressing his cheek.

"Not very kind t'let you suffer in silence, was it?"

"You couldn't have known how bad it all was, I wasn't exactly truthful either."

"You protected yourself, while Ollie... Ollie put on a fucking show to get attention, to seem so different, make me feel like I'd be a fool to ignore him," he scoffed. "I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. "But I meant what I said - you're fucking everything to me and I'd throw everyone away if it meant being with you - keeping you."

It felt so good to assure him, "You have me, Felix. 'M not goin' anywhere."

He smiled gently, sighing in relief, asking, "Can I kiss you now? Please, love, think we've waited plenty long enough."

You didn't answer, you only lifted you lips to his and sealed your fate - meshing into one heart, soul, and one being. Two halves, made whole; cut from the same cloth and stitched together. His tongue swept across the seam of your lips, mingling with yours and never knowing when he had felt so complete while kissing a woman.

Because he hadn't. Everyone else before you was a place holder, temporary, a fleeting interest. You were a part of him, never wanting to experience life without the other, but as the house slowly woke up, you were both reminded of reality...

There was still a madman to be dealt with, and Felix wanted a front row viewing to ensure Oliver Quick was truly gone and your lives in a relationship could finally start.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

other Hanahaki Disease fics:

featuring: Eddie Munson from Stranger Things

Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses

Tears in the Rain

Gone with the Sin

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying my family shows favoritism towards my baby cousin?

(This is copied from my Reddit drafts because my partner told me tumblr would be better for this and I trust them)

Okay this is a long one so I’m just gonna throw out fake names for everyone and everyone is white middle class Americans

I, Op, 20M, I’m a trans man not accepted by my family. This is relevant

Renee, 20F, my twin sister

Bea, 16F, my younger sister

Lee, 35F, my aunt on my father’s side

Lucas, 2M, my cousin, son of Lee

Suzie, 5F, my cousin, daughter of Lee

My father, 44M, the patriarch of our whole family

My mother, 45F

Grandpa, 76M, paternal grandpa, previous patriarch

Grandma, 74F, paternal grandma

So I’m sending this in on Christmas Day of 2023. For some context, I still live at home, but it’s more of a roommate situation now that I’m an adult. Renee lives on her out-of-state college campus but visits for holidays, and Bea is still a high schooler. Lee, her children, and her husband who isn’t relevant to this (I love my uncle, we just literally never talk) live across the country. My father is losing the battle with cancer and can’t travel, so we had two separate christmases this year, one with my immediate family and one with Lee. Grandma and Grandpa went to Lee’s, which was awesome for me because that meant I got to avoid them this year!

As the character list above states, I’m (one of) the oldest of the five grandkids with my cousins being born a lot later than me and my sisters. My family is a traditional WASP family and staunchly conservative with Aunt Lee actively being a cop right now while my parents and Grandpa served in the military. Growing up undeniably queer was hilarious, I know. But the family dynamic wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, my family did a good job of trying to hide the fact that Renee was the favorite child lol, but that was more on the basis of her having the same traditional values that they do until Aunt Lee had Suzie, then she obviously became the favorite. Fine by me, she’s an adorable girl and I love spoiling her. Also, ACAB does apply for Aunt Lee for being complacent in this system, it’s not just the most relevant part of the story besides explaining how she fits into the family dynamic

But then Lee had Lucas a few years later and the focus in the family shifted to him. At first, it was baby fever making everyone dote over him (and I’m guilty of this too) but after a while, I realized that the fever hasn’t died down. If we had family reunions, everyone would flock to Lucas and I would be the one watching Suzie. For a toddler, she’s a great conversationalist, but it was still sad to see all her aunts and uncles and cousins showering her baby brother with attention and not her. And then the comments started. That my father would only refer to Lucas as “my nephew” even when talking directly to Lee (unhinged to witness in person). That Grandpa was so happy to finally have a grandson (felt great). The lady-killer comments and guessing what profession he’s gonna go into based on how chubby of a baby he is (the money’s on Linebacker, little dude is built like a truck). Stuff like that

None of these comments were ever made about Suzie when she was born, and I really don’t want to admit that it’s because Lucas is a boy, but thats the only answer I can think of when trying to understand the favoritism. Lucas is showered in gifts and love and while I know newborns need that, Suzie received nowhere near this much attention. Lee’s husband doesn’t go to family functions because he works full time, but I heard Suzie mumble at Thanksgiving last month that she wanted to go home to daddy. It broke my fucking heart, so I called him and she got to FaceTime with my uncle until my phone died

At this point, I’m not even upset that the family ignores my obvious trans-ness as I’m over a year on T (paid for by myself too) in favor of my boy cousin. I’m upset that Suzie is getting left out of the fawning while she’s still super young and she could grow up resenting Lucas because of it.

Anyways, so this morning we opened gifts as an immediate family and I got to FaceTime my significant other as they unboxed their gift from me and we were having a good time until my dad FaceTimes Grandpa. Grandpa answers and Dad immediately asks how his nephew is. Lucas is pushed in front of the phone and all I can hear is asking about how Lucas is, is Lucas talking yet, is Lucas reading yet. I manage to squeeze my head in and ask about Suzie and Lee’s voice off camera says that “oh she’s fine, just snobbish.” Snobbish? A five year old?

And here’s where I’m probably the Asshole. Honestly, I’m looking between ESH and JAH here, but would perfectly understandable if tumblr decides YTA. My response to Lee’s comment was: “well maybe she wouldn’t be if everyone didn’t pick Lucas as the family favorite.”

My dad smacked me upside the head, Renee and Bea got really pissed off, and the FaceTime went quiet until it was cut off and Grandpa called back to talk to Dad privately. Bea called me an asshole and while my Mom got onto her for her language, Mom agreed that I was.

My dad came back from the phone and did the silent point towards his bedroom, y’all with shitty parents know the one. Because I’m twenty fucking years old and pay RENT here, I shook my head, grabbed my keys, and went to go hang out with my significant partner and work friends. We had a great time and I’m currently in the car with my significant other while typing this. I’m gonna spend the night at their place and go back in the morning to see how bad the damage is. My significant other says I was justified in what I said, but two of my work friends (one who’s a Cishet guy who grew up in a similar household and another who’s a new dad with his own son) say that what I said was uncalled for and rude. They explained that I had no right to weaponize Lucas and Suzie like that and I understand that. I’m just tired of Suzie being neglected and, selfishly I know, I’m tired of how my identity is ignored as well

So, tumblr, AITA?

TL;DR, My two year old cousin is the “only” grandson in the family. The family ignores my male identity and my baby cousin’s five year old sister to fawn over the two year old. Am I The Asshole for pointing this out point blank in front of the whole family on Christmas morning?

What are these acronyms?

[beastszai]

✦ Dazai and Chuuya childhood headcanons (2/2) ✦

part 1

!!! THIS POST CONTAINS STORMBRINGER SPOILERS !!!

♫ Orchard - OMORI

✧ warnings : STORMBRINGER SPOILERS・mentions of s*icide, death, hospitalization, alcoholism, etc.・angst・pure angst…・ooc (???)

✧ a/n : got way too long im sorr… but I love chuuya so much and all these headcanons have been eating dust in the back of my head and im so happy (lie) to finally post them

w/c : 950

!!! these are just personal headcanons and are not accurate to the canon story !!!

✦ Chuuya :

Chuuya’s parents weren’t blessed with a child even after years of marriage…

…So when he was born, they were so happy that they celebrated 3 days and nights (like the real Chuuya Nakahara !!)

Such a sweet boy… very polite and a tiny bit shy

He actually had an amazing bond with both his parents

And they loved him a lot, too!

How mini Chuuya would help his mom around the house, how he would randomly tell her that he loves her :,^)

Chuuya was probably interested in his father’s work (military doctor, like the real Chuuya’s father!!)

AUGHH he would peek at his dad working with those big blue curious eyes

Also, unlike Dazai, I headcanon that Chuuya has siblings!

2 little sisters!!

When his first little sister was born, he was probably around 3 or 4

Was quick to grow attached to his sister

And when his second sister came around, he was around 7

Was very overprotective of his sisters, and had a big soft spot for them

Would piggyback carry their younger sister every morning to school while holding his other sisters hand

Brilliant kid

Adored by absolutely everyone and everything

Chuuya and the family dinners with the rest of the Nakahara family SIGHHH

His mom always worried about him not eating enough (even though he did.)

His dad developed this hobby and habit of checking Chuuya and his sisters’ heights and mark them on the wall

Chuuya wasn’t the happiest when he figured that his younger sister was nearly the same height as him…

And regarding Stormbringer and how he was put in a lab…

Ohhh how his mom was losing her mind over Chuuya’s father allowing such a thing

His family kind of… grew distant and fell apart from then on

Constant arguing between his parents while he was in the lab… how his sister would cover their younger sister’s ears each time they’d argue

She’d ask where Chuuya had gone every now and then, but it was like a forbidden topic in the house

His mom would either tear up or just lash out on his sister

And his dad would yell and cuss her out, saying things like “Goddammit stop asking stupid questions! He’s fine for god’s sake!!! Be patient and he’ll be back sooner than you think!!!”

Chuuya’s dad wasn’t very happy with the decision he made either

Regretting it like crazy and losing sleep, losing focus…

And once the news broke that their one and only son was dead (aka his clone… fuck stormbringer bro…)

His family was worse than ever before.

Chuuya’s dad cried… a lot. Fell into being an alcoholic for a long time

His sisters? Despite their young age and how they couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea of death…

They were devastated. Completely had their hearts and souls shattered

But his mom… she was the worst out of them all

It broke her so much that she couldn’t even cry over her son’s death

She was left in a daze, unaware of her surroundings and just… in her own world

Though, once it registered in her mind? How she would scream and cry at odd hours of the night, begging for Chuuya…

She would push away anyone who would try to comfort her, hit them and curse them out, only wanting Chuuya

Even though Chuuya’s ‘death’ had sunk in and she understood it, she’d scream at everyone to get away from her and that ‘only Chuuya can come close to her’

S*icide attempts became a regular thing

…the amount of times Chuuya’s dad was called during work hours and just rushed home to stop his wife from taking her life…

His sister lost sleep and stopped being the top student at school because of how difficult everything had become

Their younger sister was a bit better, considering she was small

But it still hurt, she’d call Chuuya out of habit, just to remember that he was never gonna answer her calling out to him

His mom’s situation got so bad that she was hospitalized for years

And even now that the entire Nakahara family has accepted Chuuya’s ‘death’

His mom hasn’t. She’s doing a lot better than before getting hospitalized but…

She always seems to be spaced out. She doesn’t smile or laugh, and even when she does… it seems forced and it’s only for a brief moment

His mom doesn’t talk much, not to anyone

She often spends her time talking to framed pictures of Chuuya. She still cries every now and then, but tries to hide it…

And honestly? I think that Chuuya has considered going back to his family

He’s coincidentally seen his sisters and made sure they got home safely from school/work while watching from afar… then return to his own work

It scares him to go back, not only because of him putting their lives on the line for being a mafia executive

But also because he’s supposed to be ‘dead’. That’s what his family believed and has learned to live with…

So if he were to show up at his childhood home, he’d make them confused

And he can’t even imagine how they would react if he were to go back

So Chuuya just watches over them from a distance…

But maybe, just maybe one day he’ll gather up the courage and listen to the voice in his head telling him to go back

That day won’t be anytime soon, not now. He can’t go back until he’s sure the time is right for him to do so.

Until then, Chuuya just prays that they’ll stay safe and alive…

That’s when he can return to his family, his home…

[dancermk]

HELLO MY FELLOW TRAVELERS!

I, like many viewers, have been completely entranced by Hawk and Tim’s love story in Fellow Travelers. As a mature queer person, this show has been very emotional, and I am deeply invested. (I WILL riot if Tim doesn’t get to die in Hawk’s arms, and know that he is, and has always been, loved by Hawk.) But I digress.

Something that I have been fascinated by are the differing opinions that have surfaced about the characters, especially Hawk. I’m not looking for any arguments here, everyone is entitled to their opinion, and this is simply mine. To me, Hawk falls hard and fast for Tim. He breaks all his own rules for Tim - they topple over like a house of cards.

When we are introduced to Hawk, he’s cold and heartless with the men he hooks up with - they are nothing more than a body to fulfil his sexual needs and desires. He doesn’t do repeats and he doesn’t bring them home. But Tim, he instantly begins returning to, gets him a job, then allows him into his own apartment, etc. When Tim pushes back, Hawk relents further, letting him in emotionally, sharing parts of his past, crossing lines by introducing him to others in his circle, and so on.

Hawk is a traumatised man, carrying guilt and anger and shame, and a bucket load of fear! Yes, he has some internalised homophobia, but interestingly, he’s also extremely righteous about his homosexuality -and I don’t believe he thinks being gay is wrong in any way. (His response to his father is indicative of this).

I can personally say that I’ve never thought it was wrong to be queer, yet I spent much of my life hiding who I was and feeling shame. It’s an odd thing! Perhaps it is that the shame forms purely from what is outside of us, while what is inside of us can love another person of the same sex, knowing it is right and pure. Perhaps these contradictions between self and society are what causes so much pain and conflict?

But back to Hawk. Hawk is undoubtedly most affected by his teenage first love experience. A love that he fucked up through his own fears (fear for many men is unacceptable and a sign of weakness), and now carries the burden of believing he is responsible for their death. Hawk doesn’t allow himself to love again, until Tim. And we see many times throughout the show how much Hawk fears losing Tim. And in the end he’ll have to face that fear. I think that, in part, not attempting to have a life with Tim, is also fuelled by his fear of fucking it up and losing Tim - so it’s easier to just not attempt it! In episode 7, when he loses his son, part of that spiral is Hawk recognising that he can’t really prevent loss, and he wasted his life trying to be something he’s not - still losing his child and Tim along with it.

But Hawk is a survivor! And no one has the right to hate or judge him for it. I don’t think some young people truly understand what it feels like to live in a world where who you love can put you in jail, and destroy your life. I grew up in the 70s/80s and my experiences were bad enough, but I try so very hard to think about what it was like before that! When being queer was a crime and a mental illness! That’s pure terror! And for Hawk, he chose to survive the best way he knew how, and he wasn’t able to change because that’s fucking hard when all you’ve known is living in constant ‘fight or flight,’ and when have chronic trauma and experience collective trauma.

I think in episode 8 we’ll finally get to see Hawk grow - I certainly hope so - because he deserves to be free. Our beautiful Skippy has been free for some time, and while we mourn for the cruelty of a world that would take such a truly decent man, I am glad he got to live freely. Being closeted is the worst kind of suffering- a compartmentalised and fragmented existence where you are never truly whole, and therefore can never be the best version of yourself.

Before I go, I just wanted to also talk about being in a closeted relationship-which I experienced in my youth. I think that Hawk and Tim’s intense and toxic and exquisitely beautiful relationship, in part, arises from this. Because two closeted people in love live their relationship in secret, in a bubble, only in certain rooms, with none of the outside world reflected back at them. It becomes the two of you against the world. It’s so insular. Hawk and Tim literally live their 1950s relationship within two rooms - their apartments. All their memories are held within those walls. And it only belongs to them. They know each in ways that no other living soul does. It’s all-consuming and often unhealthy, but also stupidly romantic.

Anyway, sorry for this long winded post that no one will read and is likely full of grammatical errors because I’m tired! This atheist is praying we get everything we need from episode 8! Acceptance, forgiveness, understanding resolution, healing and a whole lot of love! ❤️

Cheers queers! 🏳️‍🌈

PS Matt and Johnny are exquisite on and off screen and I am so thankful to them for bringing these characters and this story into our lives!

[gh0stbeeee]

Rise of the Guardians/The Guardians of Childhood is low-key my Roman Empire.

Like, specifically in the movie verse, there's just... so much that was never elaborated on. It's one of the unfortunate side effects of being kid's media, things get dumbed down for no reason.

Like, Jack Frost in general as a character. He died. DIED. He DROWNED in a pond saving his sister and??? Nothing. The entire moment when he remembered became "Oh I'm the fun guy that had a family and saved my sister!" AND DIED. Very important part that is completely glossed over other than the idea of sacrifice. Like, the other guardians were "chosen," did they not die too? Did Jack lose his memories because he died, but the others were chosen while alive, chose to leave their lives and remembered?

And just, what were his early years? For a very long time, at least a decade, he probably thought he was totally invisible, that he could never have a true conversation with another person, because I doubt that he stumbled upon another spirit/legend for a while.

Like, that would have driven him INSANE. There's no way he wouldn't be super socially awkward from the isolation, much less just totally mentally well. Are spirit's brains built different? They'd have to be, but I don't think they should be able to withstand that level. Like what was the mim thinking??? Seriously just abandoned a TEENAGER he resurrected with no memory or possibility of support, that's wrong.

And on that note, let me reiterate that Jack died. In front of his little sister. Who had to go back home and tell her family what happened. Did he have a father too? More siblings? Friends and family? They had a funeral no doubt, mourned him. Because he died.

The worst part? He was right there. The whole time. Jack came back to that pond and settlement for hundreds of years, even when it became Burgress. He probably watched his funeral not knowing what was going on, saw his family mourn him without knowing it was for him. He was there when they died, not knowing who they were to him. Did he realize later on? I can only imagine the devastation.

The worst part is Manny probably had to take his memories, because Jack would have been DEPRESSED. He would've tried everything to make them believe, and they probably never would. His parents would probably never see him again, they were adults. His sister was plausible, but she's still mortal. She would have died, Jack would have seen his little sister grow old and die while he stayed eternally young. He might've not ever recovered from that, mim taking his memories distanced him from the pain for when he remembered 300 years later.

But he also could have moved on, grown and loved her descendants and honored her. The mim took that choice away, and that's pretty fucked up.

Then yeah, 300 years of pretty much no acknowledgement. Going into live blind with no guidance or memories, trying to figure yourself out but being ignored by the once who brought you here. Jack would realistically be a little nutty, because wow. It's shown the even other spirits didn't really talk to him, he made them acknowledge him by playing pranks and pissing them off till they confronted him. Maybe it's in spirit's nature to be recluses, but it's not in Jack's. He wanted attention and to be seen, but no one wanted to or could give it to him.

That's why Jamie seeing him for the first time always makes me tear up. This is the first time for HUNDREDS of years that a human has acknowledged him, not an out of touch spirit, but a regular person Jack can connect with, that chose to see him, to believe. That's beautiful, and special.

There's just so many layers to this story that we never got to see, and I'm forever sad DreamWorks abandoned the franchise.

(If anyone has any good fics that explore topics like this, especially Jack's family, please share)

[ditheringkestrel]

like I’m sorry if you’re disappointed that Ted is going back to Kansas but that was THE ONLY WAY this story could end. he only agreed to move across the world because his family life was falling apart and he thought some time away would save his relationship. and ted is not fucking stupid, he knows he won’t be able to effectively coach this sport he knows nothing about. he was probably thinking — optimistically, but this is ted we’re talking about — that he would coach for the rest of their season and give Michelle space and then go back home and they could work things out and be a family together again. five months living away from your kid is a VERY different story than nearly 3 years.

the show is about fatherhood and mentorship. ted wants to help mentor his players to be the best versions of themselves, but above all, he wants to be a good father. he’s fucking terrified of being a shit dad, it’s his greatest fear! and I’m sorry but he is not able to be the best dad he can be to henry the way things are, and this has been shown over and over again to be true and to be really distressing to him.

ted’s influence has left his mark on the team and roy and rebecca and the community (that last part has been really emphasized this season). richmond is in a good place, with people involved now who want to help the club succeed and have the skills/resources to do so (rebecca, higgins, keeley, roy, nate, the team). he’s helped them all grow as people and he’s grown as a person. he’s Mary Poppins, and he stayed until the wind changed — it’s changed!!!! he’s done his job, and he’s done it well, because they don’t need him anymore! which has been emphasized over and over this season! he’s been on his heroes journey and now he has to return home (changed). he has to find a new purpose and part of that purpose has to be being the best father he can be.