#rather than real life relationships (rip)

[solbaby7]

Az is so🤤🤤 toxic men in real life repulsive me but Az does it soooo well.

Can you do a slutatious reader meets possessive Az?

Like he refuses to make it official so she continues about her life and he stay hearing rumors about her activities. He doesn’t want to be another fuck buddy but he’s also holding back from her and that pisses her off and encourages her to continue w her endeavors.

I’m talking screaming fighting throwing shit toxic🤭

i love your work mamita, I’ll read ur fics all day😩🤧

Maneater

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: toxic relationships, possessive!az, promiscuous girl, swearing, sexual themes, lemme just say thank god for this request, probably typos

—

“You’re not wearing that.”

“And who’s going to stop me?” The retort comes easily, all too familiar with this dance. You continue as if he’s not there, staring at the material that molds to your curves like second skin. The entire back is out, the sultry swoop accentuating the fullness of your ass even if the front was fairly tame. Curled hair is flicked over your shoulder, lashes flirty and lips glossy as you reach for your clutch.

A shadow beats you to it, sliding the clutch just out of your reach and a slightly agitated smile quirks at the corner of your mouth as you turn to face him. “I mean it. If that’s what you’re wearing, then you aren’t going.”

A brow raises, eyes taking in the perfect structure of Azriel’s face, the strong neckline and tattoos that crept up the left side. Rippling muscles strain against the black top; a pleasant contrast from his usual leathers and you nearly forget his audacity when appreciating his physique. “You must have the wrong room, Az.” You can’t help yourself but to touch, two manicured fingers dragging down the middle of his abdomen. Nails catch on the belt holding his breeches in place and the teasing tug has his pupils dilating. “Possibly confused me with one of those simpering females with damsel in distress tendencies? The ones who actually allow the tone you’re taking with me right now. ”

“I know exactly whose room I’m in,” Unashamed possessiveness radiates from every word and the step he takes to close the distance has an annoying effect on your body. “Just like I know exactly who won’t be leaving it if you don’t walk back over to that closet and change.”

“I have no reason to listen to you,” Azriel refused to admit it out loud, but he secretly loved this part—the pushback. The flirtatious flutter of your lashes and the seductive scent lacing every inch of glistening skin. “You have no claim over me. I’m a free female,” You know exactly what you’re doing; goading him with the same implications of the relationship that you and Azriel had been dancing around for the better part of a decade. It could’ve been different, could’ve spent more time making love rather than hate fucking against any sturdy surface after the shadowsingers jealousy had gotten the best of him after hearing yet another rumor about your latest conquest. “Free to do whom and whatever I please.”

He’s too good at feigning restraint when he truly was grappling for purchase; falling victim to such feminine curves and unwavering confidence. You peered up at him without fear, heart rate steady in his presence and he just barely catches the slightest hitch of your breath when Azriel’s hand wander up the bodice of the dress. Familiar fingers brush over the thick of your thighs, up the soft curve of your belly, taking special time over supple breasts and peaked nipples. Foolishly, you lean into the touch, goosebumps beginning to dot at your spine when the fabric rips in two. “It’s adorable that you believe that.” He doesn’t acknowledge your surprised expression, hands hovering over the ruined material as if it would magically sew back together. “Don’t ever make me repeat myself again.”

“You just—“

“I will see you there—in something much more appropriate, I’m sure.”

Azriel’s gone before you can respond, a humorless laugh passing glossy lips as you shuck off the remnants of your dress. High heels stomp against hardwood floors as you make your way to the closet, ripping through shades of deep navy’s and obsidian until your sights set on a sexy little number saved for special occasions.

A sinister smirk forms as you slip into it, eyes almost sparkling as you regard yourself in the full length mirror.

The halter neckline crosses at the chest, cupping cleavage with ease as the intricate golden bustier cinches at your sides, creating the illusion of wider hips and ensures nothing less than an elegant posture when you stride inside. Soft silks and chiffon kisses at the length of your legs, grazing over painted toes in painfully high heels but it pulls the attention you were searching for. Necks craning and hungry eyes eat up every dip and curve of your figure, mouths salivating at the liquid gold that pushes up the weight of your breasts. “You’re late,” Rhysand voice murmurs in your mind, utter boredom creeping into his every feature.

Your eyes slide to Azriel when you answer, anticipation buzzing beneath the surface of your body. “Wardrobe malfunction.”

To anyone else, the shadowsinger would appear to be the embodiment of stoicism.

But you knew that hard line of his shoulders, the barely restrained tick of his jaw, the slight flexing of his fingers around the thick arms crossed over his chest. The firelight crackles around him, golden light casting perfect shadows that nearly blend seamlessly to the ones that sang to him. With each step closer to the dias, those shadows grow more agitated, wiggling restlessly at Azriel’s feet, stretching up the length of his back to whisper in his ear.

You play coy too well, nodding respectfully to the High Lord and Lady before taking your place but those shadows shove you in closer. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Azriel’s towering form, the wings held high behind him subconsciously tucking you out of view. “Appropriate enough for you?”

“You are the most stubborn female I have ever met in my entire life.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you’d just admit it.”

He pretends not to care, masking desperate glances with hardened side eyes. The grip on his crossed arms gets tighter, barely refraining from the urge to drag you away from all the eyes greedily eating up your form as if it were a six-course meal with desserts on the side. “Admit what?”

“That you want me.”

That you love me the same way I love you.

That you don’t want it to just be a game anymore either.

Azriel doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t even look your way but the sneer that curls at the edge of his perfect mouth was enough to have your confidence faltering. “I have better things to do with my time than chase after some harlot.”

Your brows snap up, nearly blending in with the seam of your hairline. He regrets every word when the teasing spark fades from your eye. Taking a sizable step away from him, your face goes hard like steel, nose scrunching with barely concealed humiliation and your teeth bare like a wild animal when Azriel reaches out to touch. “Don’t,” Angry tears make your eyes go glassy but not once does your voice waver. “Just stay the hell away from me.”

Rhys had already dismissed the others, waving a lazy hand and music fills the space. The strong smell of food permeating the air and you’re quick to blend into the gathering crowd, making a beeline for the elegant champagne pyramid tucked on the other side of the room.

Your hands shake when you grab the first glass, taking it back more like a shot than a classy sip of the flute but you just needed your hands to stop shaking—your heart to stop racing. One drink quickly turns to three and you’re well on your way to a fourth when a hand curls around your shoulder. “Fueling up for me?” The familiar drawl of Autumn’s first born heir reaches your ear, halting your display of gluttony.

This was why you were here—in Hewn City, prancing about the Court of Nightmares. Acting as a pretty faced guide the Night Court provided as light entertainment before Eris would be escorted off to the private meeting room two halls down. You’d amuse a few dances, allow him to talk your ear off and pretend you don’t notice his fingers inching down the curve of your spine. “There’s not enough alcohol in the world to prepare me for you, Vanserra.”

His brow raises, a sly smirk growing as the lights from the iron-wrought chandeliers casted their shadows against the burnt copper of his hair. Warm eyes trail down the length of your form, a single finger twitching when taking in intricate details of your gold bodice; the rich fabric that was so dark it almost seemed blue in certain light. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No, I’m just hot and talking.”

Eris is just as bold as you remember, laughing softly under your breath at his proximity when you’ve turned around for another glass but a quick hand has swiped it from your grasp before a single drop can coat your tongue. “You’re testy tonight.” You can feel the cool caress of Az’s shadows curling around your ankle, a silent claim that has your teeth gritting against each other.

For once, you amuse the Autumn heir and his playful fire, dancing into the thick of his flame when you allow him to finish your drink and guide you to the dance floor with the others. “I double booked,” You lie easily, following his lead effortlessly as if you didn’t feel that cool wisp of a shadow steadily clamping tighter against your ankle. Low chatter blocks out the ability for others to eavesdrop but you can feel those golden eyes burning holes into the side of your face—to the bare strip of skin at your hip where Eris’ hand rested for the entire duration of the dance. “Can’t help the attitude that lingers knowing that I have to spend my night prattling about with you when I could’ve been indulging in multiple orgasms.”

A laugh that’s smooth like whiskey escapes Eris, a hint of a dimple forming on his left cheek and you hate that you notice the perfect lines of his teeth; his bottom lip that was fuller than the top, the slight bump on the bridge of his nose indicating it’d definitely been broken at least once in his life. “There’s ample time before my meeting if you’d like to have your cake and eat it too.”

“Maybe I’d agree,” You make a show out of examining him, subtly inhaling the spice of his cologne. Handsome but not Azriel. “If the ‘cake’ was a different flavor.”

Eris doesn’t falter for a second, even with the entirety of your Inner Circle’s attention fixed on him and the hands he had on your body. The deep baritone of his voice rumbles against your chest, nipples pebbling at the sensation. “Close your eyes then,” Words whisper at the lobe of your ear and the glittering jewel poked through it. “You can pretend I’m whoever you want with my tongue between your thighs.”

A witty remark crawls to the tip of your tongue, readying itself to leap off when that ghost chain around your leg pulls taut. There’s only enough time for your eyes to widen before you’re tugged away from Eris like a dog on a leash. It leads you out of the room and into the hall, refusing to loosen even a touch when you stubbornly resist but there’s no point when you’re cloaked in shadows. You barely notice the scenery change before you’re back at home and tossed over a shoulder. “You stupid, brutish, ape of a male!” Your shouts echo through the empty halls, bouncing off closed doors as Azriel strides through the foyer like he was on a mission. “Put me down right now!” Every word is coupled with the palms of your hands slapping at his thighs and digging into the back of his knees. One hand cranes back to dig into the thick of his hair and tug—hard.

Azriel’s hand is harder though, pure heat burning against the skin of your ass when it connects with a deafening clap. “Shut up.”

Your jostled back into place, cheeks warm and hands frozen where they’re bunched in the fine material of his dress shirt. “Az—“

His hand comes down once more and this time you yelp, teeth biting into the fat of your bottom lip as he clears the stairs and makes a sharp left. “I told you to shut up.”

Every bone in your body screams for you to comply, primal instincts igniting deep within advising you take the route of self-preservation but your pride overrides better judgement. “And I told you, I’m a free female. Let me go, right now!” You squirm once more, legs kicking and arms clawing for release when you’re roughly thrown off his shoulder and shoved into the wall in a motion so fluid it takes the air from your lungs.

Fuck your pride for letting her mouth write checks your ass couldn’t cash.

You’d never seen such darkness in such a vast sea of gold, the whole pupil of Azriel’s eyes blown out like a feral animal salivating at the mouth. “Do you feel like a free female right now?” He already knows the answer judging by the pleased smirk beginning to creep in the corner of his mouth at the sight of his shadows holding your hands in place.

You swallow thickly, annoyingly affected by his closeness and the hard bulge that throbs at your belly when he curls a hand around your neck, nose brushing your own. “I certainly don’t feel like I belong to you.”

“I can fix that.” It’s a promise. One you silently scold yourself for praying that it’s a promise he makes good on.

The Mother has favorites and tonight you must be one of them.

The kiss Azriel initiates is nothing short of brutal; the drag of his tongue across the seam of your lips his only kindness before gaining access and completely dominating from the inside out. Every touch is claiming; a strong hand calloused from centuries of skilled swordplay is generous when easing off the expensive gold bodice before the delicate fabric beneath is torn to shreds. Pretty strips of dark material spills to the floor, left for the house to clean as your thighs are gripped and your weight is hoisted up, legs cradling the muscular taper of Azriel’s waist.

He’s sucking marks into your neck, back pressed against the wall as his teeth graze at the sensitive skin there. Breasts spill from the confines of your bra, straps eased down your shoulders to make more room for his mouth to lay claim to. Azriel pinches at your nipples, eating up every sound like it’s offered on a platter. “Those noises sound like you belong to me.” Every nerve burns where he touches, marring your flesh and branding his mark as arousal collects in your underthings.

“Azriel,” You pant, trying to clear the fog of your brain but he’s all consuming; refusing to allow you air if it’s not the same one he breathes.

The flimsy underwear is pushed aside, familiar fingers collecting the slick gathering between your legs and a cruel smile grows on his face. “It certainly feels like you belong to me.” A thumb pressed firmly on the stiff bud of your clit, rubbing slow circles that has your toes curling. A thump sounds from where your head falls back to the ball, exposing the line of your neck and the dark purple bruises smattered along it. Your eyes close for a second, breath labored and mouth salivating from the promise of more but all that changes when his hands bunch up the elegant curl of your hair. He wraps it around like a leash, forcing you to look him in the eye and the rasp of his voice is devastating. “So why the fuck can’t you get it through your pretty head, huh?”

It’s a rhetorical question, that much you gather when he moulds his mouth to yours before you can even begin to muster up an answer. You’re boneless in his grasp, allowing him to take you to his room and share his sheets. The bedside table screeches when Azriel’s boot kicks at it, knocking over lamps and light bulbs shatter on the hardwood. He doesn’t even flinch, glass crunching under the soles of his shoes that he kicks off as he eases you down. “Az,” Insecurity threatens to rear her ugly head and ruin the moment, trying to push forth his hurtful words and the years of dancing around this feeling but Azriel’s already there to push that away. “Are you sure you even want to?”

“You belong to me,” He says and it’s final. Offering up the keys to the locked box filled with everything you’d dreamed about when you closed your eyes and wished on falling stars every year. Off goes his shirt and shortly his pants follow, dragging his underwear along with it and you can’t fight the moan when all of that bare skin is exposed and hovering above you. “Say it,” He urges, the hard length of him slotting between spread legs, grinding against warm need until you’re keening soft pleas into his chest, heels digging into his back.

The intrusion makes you gasp, hands greedy and mouth glued to his while he fucked into you like he always did. It’s a demanding pace; forcing you to take all of him while he watched you lose all your composure—all that beautiful fight that drew him to you in the first place. Az doesn’t stop, spurred on by strangled moans and choked words garbled together begging for more of him; harder, faster, deeper. Your clenching around him when the words stutter out of you in a whisper. “I belong to you.”

[cmncisspnandmore]

One Night Stand; Part 6

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley X Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Shower smut, Slight breeding kink if you squint, Simon Riley being a literal angel, basically all smut with a little bit of plot.

A/N: Hi loves, imma be real, i wrote this entire part in a day. I spent pretty much my entire afternoon writing this after i scrapped about 4 different versions. This is the best i got at the moment. Im still working on this series and requests. Just life is kinda busy. So please bear with me and enjoy the brain rot. This is also not proofread at all so RIP to any grammar police.

Word Count: 3012... This seemed longer.. sowwie, its smol.

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 5

You sleepily make your way towards the bathroom door, hand closing over the knob as the incessant need to pee urges you forward. It was a little after 2am, you had fallen asleep rather early having spent most of the day lounging around the apartment. 

Simon was on base for the day, running training exercises with Soap, Gaz and Captain Price. During the 3 months you have been living with Simon, you have come to learn his patterns. Training days meant that 9 times out of 10 he would spend the night on base. The days before a deployment he would make sure to stock the fridge and pantry with your favorites. On Sundays he did laundry, every 3rd wednesday he would get his haircut. Saturdays after returning for deployment were reserved for going out to Soap’s bar and having a well deserved drink. You also learnt his day to day routine, every morning he was home Simon rose at exactly 5:00am, went on a 12 mile run, when he returned if you weren't already awake he would prepare you a healthy breakfast and leave it out for you before heading to work. 

On days when you were awake when he got back from his run he would shower, and you both would spend some time preparing breakfast together. Although those mornings instead of the nutritionally packed meals he usually prepared you often convinced him to make some sort of carb and sugar filled breakfast. Those mornings he would often leave the flat grumbling about how he should’ve run extra. Those mornings were your favorite. 

Since you moved in your relationship with Simon had not progressed further than friends, sure there was still the burning desire that he ignited within you from just looking at you. And you would often linger just a little bit too long in his arms when he would give you a hug. But there hadn't been any kissing, and you haven't managed to end up naked in between his sheets. But that wasn't for lack of wanting.

As you shove open the bathroom door, you fail to realize that not only was the light on but the sound of running water was coming from the shower. As you quickly beeline for the enclosed toilet space, you don't feel a set of brown eyes watching your every move from behind the foggy glass. It isn't until you wash your hands in the sink and glance up into the large mirror on the wall that you realize you aren't alone. Through the fogged glass of the mirror you can make out Simon’s large silhouette, his tanned skin reduced to nothing more than a tan blob. 

“Oh my god!” You squeak, whirling around, your chest heaving as you finally face Simon. He's mostly obscured by the fogged glass door of the walk-in shower, but his bemused smile is clear. “I didn't think you would be coming home!” You mutter out, your cheeks turning pink as he runs his hand across the glass cleaning away some of the fog. Now you can clearly see his face, although distorted by the water droplets on the glass. 

“I should’ve texted you, I'm sorry.. I just didn't want to be late for the appointment in the morning..” Simon says as he reaches up, running his hand through his wet blonde hair.

“No, no! I'm sorry, I should've paid more attention. I'm such an airhead sometimes I didn't realize that there was someone in here..” you rush out as you try to desperately keep your eyes from straying from Simon's face. You aren’t sure if it's the heat from the shower or the pregnancy hormones but it takes all your willpower to keep your eyes from trailing down his toned body. 

Simon pauses for a moment, his dark brown eyes trailing over you, from the adorable flush of your cheeks to the swell of your stomach under the sleep shirt you have on. “It’s alright. Love," Simon smiles. One of his panty dropping smiles that you swear he reserves for only you. It's the smile that sends shivers straight to your core. That leaves you a hot panting mess behind closed doors. Living with Simon and not jumping his bones at every opportunity was damn near torture during your second trimester. You were able to take care of things yourself, but now that your bump had grown substantially, you hadn’t been able to find relief.  

Without thinking, you walk towards the shower and yank open the door, the hot steam pouring out. Little splashes of water hit your skin as you step into the small space. Your sleep shirt and shorts quickly drenched, as Simon stares at you wide eyed. 

“Sweetheart…” Simon warns as your hands come to rest on his wet cheeks, your thumb catching on his bottom lip as he looks down at you, his pupils blown wide. You quickly close the space between you two, your bump pressing against the firm plains of his abs, your arms snaking around his neck as you sharply tug him down to your height. Your lips capture his in a sloppy, wet kiss. Simon groans low in his throat, his chest vibrating against your overly sensitive breasts. A new wave of need pluses through you as you try to get closer, Simon's cock jumping to life as it presses against your lower stomach. Simon's large hands land on your hips squeezing slightly as he turns you, pressing your back against the cold tile wall of the shower. 

A startled gasp rushes past your lips as your back makes contact with the cold tile. A shiver running through you as your wet shirt makes it feel colder. Simon smiles against your lips, one hand coming up to graze over your pebbled nipples through the sopping wet fabric of your shirt. A breathy moan slips from you as Simon peppers kisses down the side of your jaw to your neck. The spray from the showerhead now sprays off his shoulders as he leans lower. 

“Fuck.. Please,” you whine, nails scratching along the tops of his shoulders Simon wraps his lips around one of your nipples, over the fabric of your shirt. The friction from the wet fabric sends waves of pleasure through you straight to your core, your legs starting to shake with need and Simon has barely touched you.

“Such a needy girl…” Simon murmurs against your skin, as he flicks his tongue across your nipple. Your cheeks flush pink at his words but you’re hanging on to each one like they’re your life line. “Why didn't you just come to me if you needed some help baby?” Simon whispers softly, as his fingers trace the bottom of your bump, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt as he pushes it up.

“I…I don't know,” You mumble your head tipping back against the cold shower wall. 

Simon hums, his lips once again brushing across one of your nipples, pulling another moan from you. “God, your tits are amazing. It’s been hell walking around trying not to stare at them. Knowing that my child is the reason, knowing that they are growing to provide milk for our baby,” Simon whispers against your skin, and you swear you could cum just from the sounds of his voice. 

“Simon… Please…” you whine, it's small and breathy, in any other circumstance you would be ashamed for sounding so weak, but right now you couldn't give two shits if the damn queen of England was standing here witnessing your plea.

“Tell me what you need baby, I don't want to hurt you..” Simon stands back to his full height, his hand coming to cup the side of your face. You force your eyes open, Simon's beautiful brown eyes staring at you. Simon is a large man, in all aspects of his life and the last thing he would ever want to do is hurt you unintentionally. Especially now, as you carry his child within you, he would rather be buried alive again than accidentally do something to hurt you or the baby.

“I need you to bend me over and fuck me senseless. I feel like I'm going to explode,” you whine, your needy hands coming to rake down his bare chest, sending a shiver through Simon's entire body. 

“Whatever you need, Love,” Simon grunts before he bends down and picks you up, nudging open the shower door with his shoulder as he cradles you against his wet chest. He doesn’t stop to turn off the shower or even dry himself off as he brings you into his room. He sets you down on your feet and quickly drops to his knees in front of you. His still warm hands catching the waistband of your wet sleep shorts. He pulls them down your legs, goosebumps erupting across your skin from the sudden change in temperature. 

Simon presses a series of soft kisses to the stretched skin of your stomach, his hands briefly cupping your belly/ “Hi Lovie,” he whispers softly to your bump and if you weren’t so ravishingly horny you could cry. The sight of probably one of the scariest men you know on his knees in front of you talking to his unborn child makes you want to scream in the best way. But your mind quickly goes blank as Simon's fingers trace the smooth skin of your inner thigh. 

“Turn around, elbows on the bed, pet,” Simon stands again, his hands on your shoulders as he gently turns you. As if on autopilot you lean forwards, resting your elbows on the bed, giving Simon a perfect view of your ass. A deep groan hits your ears as Simon's hand comes to massage the puffy flesh of your ass. Your skin prickles with anticipation as his fingers dip lower, gathering the slick wetness from between your thighs. The breath wooshed from your lungs as he thrusts one finger into your slick cunt. 

“You’re so wet for me, such a good girl aren't you?” Simon hums, lazily thrusting his finger before he adds a second. You tip your hips back, trying to make him go faster, this slow languid pace he was setting was driving you mad. You needed to be fucked, and god damn if you didn't get it right now you were going to cry. 

“Si…” you whine, pushing your hips back into his hand as he curls his fingers within you. 

“Hmm?”

“I’m pregnant, not made of fucking glass. I swear if you don't fu-” Your voice cuts off as Simon slams into you in one quick thrust. Your world spins for a moment and if you hadn't been holding onto the bed for support you would’ve fallen over. A startled gasp passes your lips and Simon all but freezes. “No please don't stop, it just feels different but not in a bad way…” You quickly mumble reaching back haphazardly with one hand to try and grab Simon's hip to force him to move.  

“You sure?” Simon mumbles, his hands coming to rest on your hips, as he slowly pulls out before sinking back in. 

“Oh god, yes, please,” you moan, your face now pressed into the mattress. That was all it took for Simon to continue, his hips thrust into you at a rapid pace, obscene moans leaving your lips as he slams home each time. Sex felt different this time, there was no slight burn from how big Simon was but you felt full, so deliciously full. You had been worried about having sex at any point during your pregnancy, having read that some women have no sex drive during pregnancy, especially the 3rd trimester. But thank the lord above it was not the case for you. Your thoughts turn to nothing as Simon lets out a harsh moan, your walls fluttering around him. 

“Fuck baby, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Simon grunts as he adjusts his grip on your hip bones,his fingertips digging into your skin.

“Feels so good Simon.. I'm gonna cum..” You whimper as the familiar coil in your stomach tightens, teetering on the edge of release as he pounds into you. Your skin slapping against each other so loud you're sure the neighbors know what's going on.

“Cum for me baby,” Simon leans forward, one hand wrapping around your shoulder as he pulls you up slightly, your elbows no longer resting on the bed as he pulls you up against his chest. His hips still pistoning into you as he uses the new position to fuck into your harder. You reach up and grab the back of his neck with your hand, anchoring yourself to him, your other hand coming to find the hand still on your waistline. You guide his hand up to your throat where he gives it a gentle squeeze. 

That small squeeze was all you needed to go tumbling over the edge into oblivion. Stars dance in front of your vision as the world goes quiet for a moment. Simon finds his own release moments after yours, his entire body tensing behind you. As you turn to putty in his arms, “Woah, I’ve got you,” Simon whispers into your sweaty hairline as his arms carefully wrap around you and he manages to slip out of you and hold you up. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, fully sated as you lean against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering against your back, one arm firmly around you, right under your breasts the other resting lightly on your bump. His fingers softly rubbing along your soft skin. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Simon grunts, maneuvering you to the edge of the bed where he helps lower you into it. 

“I just basically jumped you in the shower… “ you mutter, your eyes heavy as exhaustion hits you like a freight train hitting a brick wall. 

Simon pauses as he gathers your wet pj’s from the floor and shoves them into his laundry basket. “You think I would be upset by you jumping me in the shower?” He asks, a small smile on his face. 

You lift your head, watching as he shoves the clothes into the basket and grabs a black long sleeve shirt from the closet. He walks over, standing in front of you still in all his naked glory, the shirt in his hands. “Well.. I mean.. we haven’t exactly expressed wanting more than friendship..” 

“Love, I’ve been taking it slow because I thought you only wanted to be friends… not because I wanted to. God, watching you walk around the apartment, your stomach growing with my child drives me insane, I’ve wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you sensless every morning since the first day you got here.” Simon pulls the shirt over your head, and you put your arms through, the shirt still fits loosely even over your baby bump. 

“Oh…” you freeze for a moment, you and Simon had gotten closer over the time you’ve lived with him. You had learnt about his past, about his mother and brother. About his nephew. You held him when he cried one night, his words a broken mess of how he was afraid he would turn out to be his dad. How he wished he could talk to his brother one last time, so he could ask him how he got past the fear of turning into his dad. How he handled the fear of being a dad when he had Joseph.

But the entire time you had lived together Simon had always treated you with respect, he never touched your stomach without asking. He always made sure to keep a respectable distance from you when you were on the couch. He never entered your room without permission and never asked about your life before coming to London. 

But it wasn’t to say you didn’t share things with Simon, he knew your favorite color, your worst fear (unrelated to your family’s passing) , your greatest wish, he knew what you used to dream about being as a little kid. He knew that your favorite food could make you smile on your worst days, and that you liked to watch old sitcoms when it rained. If someone was to look into your conversations they would probably think you were already together. That you probably didn’t flaunt the physical aspects of your relationship. Simon had quickly broken down the walls you had put up around yourself, and had comfortably made his own spot in your heart.

Simon sits next to you, now dressed in a pair of black sweatpants, his large hand covering yours. You slowly look up at him, his brow furrowed as he studies your face. The small scar in his eyebrow evident this close, you reach out running a finger across it. The skin is slightly raised and water drips from his hair onto your finger.

“Then you should stop fighting the urge…” you finally whisper, your hand cupping the rough skin of Simon’s face. 

“Would you be okay with that? With me touching you whenever I wanted… holding you.. kissing you?” Simon whispers, his eyes closing for a moment as he leans into your hand.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, your forehead coming to rest against his, your eyes closed. For a moment you just sit there. Your foreheads pressed together, your breath mingling.

Could you be okay with that?

Could you let someone in that way?

Let someone get close enough that they could see all the broken and jagged edges of you?

Could you open yourself up to losing someone again?

The thought of Simon being gone suddenly, ripped away from you by some unknown, the same person who ripped your siblings and mother away from you makes you want to vomit.

But a small part of you chimes in, the part that knows Simon isn’t defenseless like your family was. Simon was a trained military man, a man who single handedly killed an entire crew for crossing him. He could handle himself. He had proved that time and time again in the field. He also had the rest of 141, the team who would go to the ends of the earth to find him. 

You open your eyes, and look at Simon, the answer on the tip of your tongue as you stare at his beautiful face. His light blonde stubble, the small scars, the crook in his nose, the slightly uneven line of his lower lip. “Yes… I-I want that.. I want all of it.”

Next Part: 7

Taglist: @coffeeandtealol, @natashamea18

[55sturn]

✮ COVERED IN YOU

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which history has a tendency to repeat itself for matt and y/n, and this time y/n’s had enough of the back and forth because despite fighting it for years, she’s in love with matt, but does he love her back?

warnings: swearing, matt is the epitome of avoidant attachment, no established relationship, ex situationship to enemies to something complicated, making out, suggestive, alcohol consumption, angry!matt, mentions of sex.

THIRD PERSON POV

to anyone that dared to ask, most people would imply, rather than flat out explain, that matt and y/n hated one another for good reason. no one would ever divulge into full detail what the good reason was.

most believed it was feelings that were never dealt with, or lingering resentment from a fight that was never acknowledged. a lot of people had their theories, a plethora of them even. but no one but matt, y/n, and matt’s brothers knew the real cause.

when matt and y/n were in their senior year of high school, the year it happened, the two were close. like undeniably and i breakable bond close. they were attached at the hip. but one night things changed when the two of them shared a kiss at some party that eventually led to a much more intimate moment, it being their first of that kind.

from then on, they grew closer romantically. they went on dates, they kissed, held hands, spent hours talking to each other. all for matt to call it off in the middle of them laying in the yard watching the stars.

y/n was confused, to say the least, because she was so sure matt was going to ask her to be his girlfriend after nearly a year of them being whatever they had been. they had already said their “i love you’s”, matt just didn’t think a label was necessary so she waited.

“i just don’t see this going any further than what it is right now.” matt sighs, his gaze flickering from the stars above to the girl beside him, he felt guilty lying to her because in all honesty, she was the center of his universe. but he and his brothers had finally agreed to move to los angeles the second graduation finished, and he wasn’t going to put her though the pain of a long distance relationship.

“that doesn’t make any sense matt, you told me you loved me.” the girl whimpers, tears welling along her waterline.

“i figured that’s what you wanted me to say.” he hums, his voice void of all emotion as he stares ahead, trying not to give into the voice in the back of his mind telling, screaming at him, to take it all back, to tell her the truth.

“so you don’t actually love me?”

“not in the way you want me to.”

“fuck you matt, i gave myself to you, and this is what you do?”

“i’m sorry.”

“at least look at me while you rip my heart out.”

and from that night onward, the two haven’t shared much more than two words. after the triplets moved to los angeles, they lost contact with the girl for a while but nick refused to let up and soon brought her back into their lives after he found out that she had moved to a deeper part of los angeles for the social marketing courses she was studying.

matt, at first, despised nick for bringing her back into his life. he felt like he had finally gotten rid of every touch she left in his life, like he had finally taken a breath that wasn’t full of her for the first time in his life. just for her to resurface.

they had been so consumed by their feelings, which y/n felt was the worst part of it all. she believed love was never meant to be all consuming. and her love for matt, consumed every part of her and when he accepted that love without giving it back, it spit out someone she didn't want to know.

but she learned to love the version of herself that didn't know matt, that didn't want to know matt. but here she was, unfortunately thrusted back into his life and being forced to be someone that knows him again.

the two found endlessly for the first little while, constantly bickering over things that held no genuinely purpose to them, they fought for the sake of fighting. of hearing each other's voices. but when matt found y/n standing on their front step, drenched from the rain and biting back tears, his heart clenched and he softened up around the edges, letting the very clearly distraught girl into his house without hesitation.

he soon learned that the guy she was seeing had only used her as a rung on his ladder in his social climb due to her relationship with the triplets, and on top of that, the internship that she worked hard for that she had landed at one of the top social media networks, had fired her without so many as a good reason.

that night, they rekindled their friendship. they began to lean on each other again, finding solace in each other’s arms. but y/n was apprehensive of getting close again, she couldn’t go through being heartbroken by him again. but he reassured her that he was there and he wasn’t leaving again.

PRESENT TIME

y/n laughed as her and the triplets made their way down the busted sidewalk that led toward nate’s house, the four them of had flown back to boston for a couple weeks due to being overworked and homesick, and what better way to celebrate being home? a party in their childhood friend’s garage. the cold february air nipped at y/n’s hands and cheeks as she struggled to keep warm, and matt took notice of this, falling behind the group to hold her and keep her warm. once she felt like she was warm enough to keep walking without shivering, the two made their way up nate’s driveway, and were welcomed with the smell of beer, weed, and stale cigars.

as the party went on, more people arrived, some y/n knew well, and some she was only acquainted with. there were a few girls from shared high school classes present, and y/n spent most of her time catching up with them, sitting matt or playing beer pong with nate, but there was one blonde girl in particular that kept eyeing y/n. the nasty look on her face made it evident that she didn’t like how close y/n and matt were.

y/n knew the girl from high school, she was friends with matt’s ex fling nicole, and had always seemed to have a strong disliking for the girl so close to matt. but y/n brushed it off, figuring it was just jealousy because y/n stayed close with the triplets and she didn’t. but y/n was proven wrong when matt went to the bathroom and the blonde girl approached her.

“why are you so close to matt? it’s like you’re practically sitting in his lap.” the girl, that y/n remembered was named alara spat.

“what does it matter to you?”

“seeing as he’s my boyfriend, i’d rather not have a random girl hanging off him.”

“since when have you and matt been dating?”

“about a month, we hooked up the last time he was home and now we’re keeping it lowkey.”

“matt’s never even mentioned you.”

“well now you know to stay away from him, m’kay?” the girl laughs, before walking away, leaving y/n angry and upset as she stares at the beer she just opened. y/n scoffs and goes to throw her beer away as matt reentered the garage, immediately noticing her furrows brows.

“you okay?” matt hums, reaching out to brush the hair from her face as she steps back.

“don’t fucking touch me. i cant believe you.” she spits, leaving matt dumbfounded as he watches her walk over to nate, the two of them sharing a quick hug before she exits the garage.

matt’s eyes dart around the room, meeting alara’s pleased smirk as matt storms his way over to the blonde girl, gripping her bicep as he drags her to the corner of the garage.

“what the fuck did you say to y/n?”

“i told her the truth.” alara laughs, watching as matt’s expression grows angrier.

“please enlighten on what you believe is the truth? because the last i remember, you’re just some girl i fucked six months ago and then blocked when you went psychotic.”

“i told her we’re dating.”

“jesus christ alara, i just got her back into my life and you come in and fuck everything up.”

“well now you can be with me, matty.”

“no. you’re always going to be the random hookup that i regret and wish never happened. stay the fuck away from me.” matt seethes, dropping the girl’s arm and quickly leaving the garage, hoping to catch up to y/n. as he runs down the sidewalk, he spots her a couple feet ahead and he picks up his pace until he’s right behind her.

“y/n wait.”

“save it matt. i don’t want to hear whatever excuse for breaking my heart, again, that you’ve got ready.”

“it’s not an excuse. i’m not with her. she’s some chick i fooled around with six months ago, before you and i fixed things.”

“i don’t care matt, you and i aren’t together!” the girl yells, turning around to face as tears slide down her rosy, cold cheeks, prompting matt to delicately take her face in his hands as he wipes the tears. y/n’s eyes squeeze shut as she tries to find the willpower to pull away from his touch, but his hands are warm and she misses his hands on her and it’s harder to pull away with every passing second.

“i know we’re not together, but i want us to be. i fucked up the first time we had something because i listened to the fear in my head. since the night you showed up crying in the rain, five months ago, there hasn’t been another girl in my life. you are the only person i love, and want to love. i am completely covered in you. i am consumed by you. so please listen to me when i say there is nobody else, and there never will be.”

“matt, i’m scared. you made me let you in again, you made me love you again, and there is this fear in my heart that you’re going to push me away again. that you are going to tell me you love and not mean it again, that you are going to keep breaking me over and over again.”

“i know baby, but i don’t want to let you go again, i fucked up, and i don’t ever want to fuck uo with you again. so if you’ll let me, i will prove to you that i’m here for good. if you let me be your boyfriend, i will promise to never break your heart again. please just give me one more chance to love you right.”

“okay.” y/n whispers, her guard growing thin as matt whispers promises against her lips, and that fear is still there and alive, but how can she say no when he looks so pretty staring at her with frozen cheeks and tears threatening to fall? so, she gives in, pressing her lips to his to seal the proclamations and promises he makes, hoping that there will be some truth to them.

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© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[foreverunraveling]

I kind of love the use of dirt in S1E4? 

When the episode starts, Wille is laying his head on Erik’s casket. He reaches out for some dirt on it as the last conversation they have when Erik leaves Wille at Hillerska in episode 1 plays in the background. The words' dual meaning becomes obvious.

Wille touches the dirt, feels it. The dirt is real. There's not much of it, but it's real. And he's losing it. He's lost the one thing in his life that is real--his relationship with his brother, Erik.

For most of his life, I’d imagine that Erik was the only person in the world with whom Wille could be fully real. And Erik was probably one of the only people who was real with Wille back.  The only person with whom he could have a real relationship.  Who didn’t expect a polite, respectful prince and nothing else. Who would tell Wille to run on the count of three during a boring photoshoot and slip down the muddy hill with him.  

And then Erik dies. The only real connection that Wille can ever remember having in the world is gone. And Wille is realizing that he pushed the very last glimmer of a real connection away.  And nothing feels real any more. So Wille goes to the football field where he was with Simon, a place where he felt truly normal, looking for something that will make him feel real. And all he finds is astroturf—no real dirt. He realizes that without Simon, there’s nothing real left in his life. No one who sees him and accepts him for who he really is. No one who knows the real Wille, who is messy and dirty, and still cares for him regardless.

And it sinks in. Without Erik, there’s nothing tethering Wille to this earth any more. The rest of the world seems further and further away.  Fake, as Wille discovers the astroturf on the soccer field is.  So, Wille reaches out for Simon, the one person who can ground him again. 

The only real thing that Wille has left in his life is Simon.  He’s the only person left who would ever be fully real with Wille. Tell Wille that he’s actually the country's biggest welfare recipient. Give Wille shit when he tries to hide from August. Discreetly laugh in August’s face with him. Dare him to evade the cousin he hates for an evening to experience something totally normal with real people.

And not only that, but Simon is the only person left in his life who Wille can be fully real with at this point. No one else has any idea about the sexuality crisis that Wille is going through or how that plays into any of his feelings about ascending to the role of Crown Prince.  No one has any idea about what happened between him and Simon.  No one knows that he doesn’t really like August, or the school, or his role.  Except Simon.  Simon is the only one left who sees Wille for himself—a real person rather than a personification of his title.  

And, as Wille points out, what he and Simon have—what he feels for Simon, at the very least—is real.  Wille has tried to fight it, but the sheer reality of it rips through the paper-thin fake layers with which Wille tries to shield himself. “I’m not like that” and “I can’t do this any more.” But alone, out on the field, where Wille expected to find the normalcy he felt when he went to Rosh’s game, he’s surrounded by only reminders that nothing left is real.

So Wille reaches out for Simon—the only one who can ground him again. Because unlike the astroturf on which Prince Wilhelm's life is built, dirt is real. What they have is real.  And real life is messy, it’s dirty, and you can pretend otherwise, but you’ll end up falling down in the mud either way.  And Wille is choosing to grasp at the only thing left that he sees in his life that is real. Simon.

[leaentries]

karma | quinn hughes

summary: sleeping with your best friend's boyfriend proves to bring major heartache, even if you broke things off. he was the man you weren't supposed to love, but karma has a funny way of working.

warnings: angsty themes, cheating, swearing, manipulation, gold-digging

wc: 2.4k+

a/n: surprise! here is my first quinn fic on a random thursday at 2:30am! I honestly didn't know where I was going with this when I started writing, but then I got carried away...

Karma. Was it real? Many people could beg to differ, however, in this moment… you felt the repercussions. 

The sound of your cries echoed throughout the empty bathroom. Thunderous cheers muffled their way through the cement walls. The cool tiles pressed into your exposed legs as you sat on the ground. Sobs wracked through your worn body. 

You asked for this, didn’t you? 

The words you said to him rang in your ears. Those cruel and unregarding words. Yet, he needed to hear them. 

❥.

“I want my life back, Quinn. My life before you.”

Your throat ached, your cheeks bright red with tears violently pouring down. Not that Quinn looked much better. This was the worst fight the two of you have ever had. All of the screaming, crying, cursing, it felt like it would never end. Although this was a long time coming, it still didn’t stop the bone-crushing pain that seeped its way into your heart. You knew you were gonna hurt him, but you also knew you had to. He was becoming too attached. 

You both agreed when you started this fling it was only temporary. C’mon, how could a true relationship form when he was dating your best friend? He promised he wouldn’t fall for you, regardless of how shitty Bethany treated him. That was your reasoning, the only thing you could use to push away the heaving guilt of sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend. 

Still, karma always came around full circle.

And here it was, in the form of Quinn getting down on one knee in front of an arena full of people. The diamond glimmered in the bright lights, the flashes of cameras making it that much prettier. The look on his face was nothing short of love, but not for the girl in front of him, no, rather for the girl standing beside her. Bethany’s eyes filled with tears at the sudden proposal. Nodding her head “Yes” rapidly. 

You felt suffocated, needing nothing more than to leave. You turned, making your way through the dense crowd, finding the nearest private staff bathroom. 

❥.

This is where you remained until you were able to properly breathe again. In this moment, in this stupid bathroom, you found yourself praying the harsh words you told Quinn that night would become a reality. Alas, maybe sometimes karma isn’t always out to get you. 

A knock sounded from the other side of the steel door. Standing, you used the wall to maintain your balance. You walked over, to unlock the door, forgetting to check your disheveled form in the mirror. 

There was a sliver of hope that remained in your heart at the possibility of Quinn choosing you. You knew it was selfish, especially after you practically ripped his heart out when he told you he loved you. You gripped the handle, sucking in a quick breath. You opened the door slowly, only to be met with Bethany’s gleaming eyes. You looked down, shamefully filled with disappointment. 

Bethany slightly shoved you out of the way, barging into the single room. You paused a moment, taking a beat to compose yourself before facing your best friend.

Turning around, you saw Bethany fixing her chestnut hair in the warped mirror. She looked so happy. And you felt so guilty. 

Now even though Bethany wasn’t the most selfless person, or even the most caring, regardless you still felt the weight of what you and Quinn had hanging from your shoulders. She has been in your life since you moved to Vancouver 3 years ago. She was your very first friend and a betrayal like that was not easily forgiven. 

“Y/n, I cannot believe he proposed! I mean, I honestly thought he was gonna break up with me, you know? Remember how I was telling you how he started getting super distant and his responses were super short? I guess it was just his nerves. God! I’m so excited to plan the wedding!” Bethany blabbered on and on about her new wedding plans and how great being married to Quinn was gonna be. 

You tried to fake a smile, but the tears in your eyes were hard to ignore. Hell, even Bethany noticed. 

“Are you okay? You have mascara running down your face.” She approached you, getting a closer look at your blotched face. 

 Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You were positive she was gonna see the guilt and sadness etched deep in your eyes. 

“Awww, y/n/n! You’re crying out of happiness!” She brought you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around her loosely, troubled at her statement. Here, you were, clearly upset, and she couldn’t get over herself long enough to notice. That may be selfish and inconsiderate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Bethany quickly started up again, rambling on more. You stood, leaning against the wall barely paying attention to a single word that fell from her lips. That was until you heard her say, “I mean, shit, this relationship wasn’t even supposed to go this far.” 

Your head snapped up, looking at Bethany through the mirror. “What do you mean, “wasn’t supposed to go this far?” 

She turned towards you, “Back when we first started hanging out, you know, around the same time you moved here. Basically, Jacie had made a bet that I couldn’t bag a professional athlete. I told her to bite me and watch.” Anger flooded your veins, Quinn was just a bet to her? 

The man who kissed every inch of your body and ran his hands over each divot in your skin. The man who practically begged you to love him back. The man who you let get away, just to spare the feelings of your so-called “best friend.” 

“Originally it was just supposed to be a hit-and-run type of deal, but the poor dude latched on to me, and what can I say? I loved the attention. Now I’ll look even better with the Hughes’ name.” She finished with a satisfied smile. 

Fury coursed through your entire body, you saw red. “You’re fucking using him?” 

Bethany looked shocked at your tone. “I-I mean not, technically.”

“No. None of this technical bullshit, Bethany. Are you in love with him?” 

The conflict was reflected in her features, “Love is a strong word, but I definitely care for him.” 

You were in utter disbelief. To think you gave up the only man who you’ve ever truly loved to help the stranger standing in front of you. Your teeth ground together in anger. “Then why the fuck are you marrying him?” 

Now it was her turn to get angry, “Because he asked me, y/n. Why the hell do you even care? It’s not like you are the one getting engaged to him.” 

Even though she had no idea what went on between you and Quinn, her statement still felt like a deliberate punch to the gut. Yet, she was right. You weren’t the one he proposed to, you weren’t the one he chose. Except, you were.

❥.

“Please, y/n. Don’t lie to me. I know you love me too. You say the words and I’ll leave her. Just please, say something.” Quinn begged you. His chest heaving with panic and worry. He was scared to lose you. 

You knew you couldn’t bear to hurt Quinn, but Bethany was your best friend and you couldn’t hurt her either. That is the only reason the following words left your mouth, the words that made Quinn drop everything and leave you that instant, never looking back. 

“I’ve never loved you. I'm just sorry I let it go on for so long, I could have saved you some grief.” 

❥.

You hurt Quinn for her, and for that, she could never be forgiven. “Why do I care? Oh, I don’t know, probably because you’re about to marry someone you don’t even love, Bethany. I mean do you even have a fucking brain? Why the actual fuck would you ever hurt someone like that? What are you gonna do if Quinn finds out that you’re using him? I bet you don’t even care. God, you are such a selfish bitch. I can’t believe I hurt Quinn for you.” 

Bethany stood in silence for a moment, taking in everything you said to her. To your surprise, she didn’t yell back. Her voice remained stoic, “I figured. You just proved my theory. You know, it’s really rich. You standing there calling me a selfish bitch when you were the one sleeping with my boyfriend.” 

You immediately attempted to deny, not for your own sake, but Quinn’s. However, Bethany cut you off, “Shut your fucking mouth. I had suspicions you two were hooking up. I mean, c’mon no one becomes that close that quickly. And the way Quinn looked at you? I’m surprised he didn’t fuck you in the middle of the room to claim your ass. He never looked at me like that. So yeah, I said yes to his proposal because for once he chose me, not you, me.” 

She walked closer to you, her face remained still, voice stern, “But don’t worry, I’ll take care of him when he’s in my bed instead.” She flashed her ring at you, “Except, this isn’t temporary. It’s forever” She whispered the last part. 

Bethany took one last glimpse in the mirror before grabbing her bag and leaving the bathroom without sparing you another look. 

You slowly sink back down to the floor, a new round of sobs shaking your body. The feeling of finally losing Quinn was too much for your knees to hold up. You clawed at your chest, the undeniable pain making it hard to breathe. 

❥.

You eventually gathered yourself up and left the bathroom. Planning on making a b-line to the back door and straight to your car, you didn’t bother to fix the redness of your skin or the blatant mascara still running down your cheeks. 

Walking at a brisk pace, you weren’t completely paying attention to where you were going. You didn't think to look up until you were met with a solid body almost knocking you over with the collision.

There they were, those gorgeous eyes that brought you so much joy, yet so much heartache. The eyes that belong to the man you weren’t supposed to love. Quinn picked up on your distressed state instantly. He had always been able to read your cues. 

“What’s wrong, y/n?’ His voice was distant like he was trying not to get swept into you. Quinn knew the second he reopened that wound, there was no shutting it. That’s one of the reasons he decided to propose to Bethany. It was a feeble attempt to keep you out; To pretend you never existed. 

This proved to be harder than he thought. Everywhere Quinn went he saw you, saw things that reminded him of you. He knew it was wrong to be so consumed by you, but he couldn’t help it. 

Quinn snapped back into focus when you shook your head, trying to get out of his hands that rested on your arms. “I’m fine, Quinn.” You hesitated to say his name, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He removed his hands with a slight wince, clearly still sore over your rejection. 

Yet, something came over him. He wanted the truth. If he was marrying Bethany, the least he deserves is some truth from you. Quinn grabbed your arm once more, leading you into a side room, quickly shutting and locking the door.

“What the hell?” You exclaimed, not happy with the current situation. “Let me out, Quinn.” 

He crossed his arms, blocking the door with his toned body. “Give me the truth, Y/n. Why are you crying?” Quinn would be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping the reason was because of his engagement. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, Quinn still loved you. 

“It’s nothing, really,” Trying to come up with an excuse, you became desperate, “I am just super overwhelmed at work and it’s just taking a toll, I guess.” You were confident in your answer, it was simple enough and believable. There was no way he wouldn’t believe it. 

“You’re lying. You are on vacation right now. Y/n, I’m being serious. Tell. me. The. truth. I am so sick of all the lies and deceit. Give me something, please.” His begging only made your feelings worse. He didn’t know how badly you wanted to tell him you loved him. It would be so easy. 

Maybe that’s why you decided to throw out all logic and be selfish. You deserved to be selfish. “Fine, Quinn. You want the truth? I’m in love with you. I always have been. I lied to you that night, all those awful, fucked up things I said. They were all lies.” Saying it out loud brought a euphoric sense of relief. 

Quinn was rendered speechless. He was filled with anger, confusion, but most of all: love. The girl he loved most finally loved him back. He searched your face for any signs of uncertainty. Finding none, he stepped towards you.

“Say that again.” He demanded. 

You looked at him confused. “Wha-” He cut you off.

“Tell me you love me. Please, for the love of god, tell me you love me.” 

Mustering up more courage, you spoke more defined this time, “I am in love with you, Quinn Hughes. And there is nothing that could ever change that.” 

Quinn cupped your face, pulling your lips to meet his in a blaze. The anger, fear, and love were all present as you gripped onto his bicep. The kiss got heated quickly, Quinn backing you against the opposite wall. Your mouths met in a clash of teeth and tongue, desperate to feel each other again. When you eventually pulled away, you both took a moment, basking in the feeling of holding the other. The restless nights of longing were finally over. All the sneaking around and guilt was pushed aside. 

Quinn was the first to break the silence, “I’m gonna go end things with Bethany.” You met his eyes. He brought his hands back up, wiping away some of the stray makeup. “Even with runny mascara and messy hair, you’re beautiful.” 

For the first time that day, you truly smiled. The pain in your chest was gone, replaced with an undeniable warmth. As Quinn placed one last kiss on your lips and left to go end his engagement, you realized something.

Karma really does have a way of coming back full circle.

[crooked-wasteland]

Oops: Rushing to Catharsis, Dodging Accountability

There is much to be said about the latest episode of Helluva Boss, and it is a bit of a tragedy that the animatic release felt like a more complete version of the episode than the actual finished product. From losing out on the visual intensity of Fizzarolli's injuries to the complete erasure of Barbie in the background of the disaster, it feels like these small changes removed the visceral intensity of the scene and its repercussions. Especially as Barbie is now the obvious point of conflict in Blitz's storyline, it feels like the impact of that part of the story is now devalued by her absence.

But that is hardly the end of the issues at play.

Medrano and her team rushed this story arc.

There are clear parallels to Bojack's two major story beats of Bojack abandoning Herb and the Sugarman Summer Home season arc. It is obvious that Blitz and Fizzarolli have a relationship paralleling that of Herb and Bojack in season one. However, Medrano pulls back in a multitude of ways and fails to commit the plot to a natural conclusion. While Herb rejects Bojack due to the fact that the latter never came to check up on him following his public disgrace and outing, Blitz is absolved of even that.

In the Bojack episode, Herb makes it clear that he doesn't blame his old friend for not standing with him when he was removed from Horsing Around. While he may have been upset at one time, he had cooled off and recognized that if the studio had let them both go, that would have been terrible for both of them.

Rather, it was Bojack assuming Herb's desires and thus avoiding his best friend for years under the belief that he had betrayed Herb so completely that the other wouldn't want to see him anyway. Bojack's insecurity was his own undoing in that relationship, even though it showed that both Herb and Bojack were still very compatible friends. Bojack's background of conditional relationships from his own parents set the groundwork for his hyperavoidant personality and how allowing generational trauma to dictate your relationships in life is a good way to lose everyone you ever hope to keep.

Here, Blitz didn't abandon Fizzarolli. Skipping to the end, Blitz was kept from seeing Fizz in the hospital by a currently unknown third party. Which removes his flaws on a fundamental level. While one could argue ripping off the storyline wholesale would have been just as bad, at least it wouldn't feel like a fanfiction retelling of that Bojack episode. It feels like Medrano had a very negative opinion of Herb and how he rejected Bojack and that this reiteration with her own characters is her way of "fixing" that relationship. At the same time, what Blitz ended up doing is far and above worse than Bojack simply not risking his career.

The episode takes the sequence as dark as they'd dare, Fizzarolli crawling out of the explosion as his body burns and disintegrates. The show really does want to bank itself on the emotional impact this sequence should have, picturing how afraid Fizz must be. The amount of pain he would be in as his mangled body turns to ash as he forces himself from the fire. His flesh melted, his horns seared red and glowing like it would if they were made of real keratin, his bones themselves falling apart as he forced his body to escape the disaster. And he calls out to the one person he held such admiration for, his best friend since they were kids, who turns his back on him and runs.

And somehow, that is not the reason the relationship has become so bitter and vile. Not because Fizzarolli, most likely believing he was going to die, watched his best friend run away and "save himself" (from Fizz's perspective), leaving him to die alone in this calamity. It's because Blitz never came to talk to him. And even then, it wasn't Blitz's fault.

While that reveal worked for Bojack and Herb, it doesn't actually work for when a character almost actually loses their life. The figurative end of the world that comes with losing a job you love and a creative passion project stolen and bastardized can not begin to amount to the physical act of dying. That is actually the entire point of Herb's story as well, why Bojack's initial betrayal is forgivable, but his avoidance was not. It's because what felt like the end of life in the moment didn't actually end anything substantial for Herb. He still lived a full and complete life, minus his best friend who left him to rebuild on his own. And you can not, in fact, make up for lost time.

Speaking of comparisons, the dialogue of this sequence in particular feels quite off-putting. Blitz's line of "You have e no idea what I lost in that fire" is accusatory and draws up a direct comparison to what each character lost. Fizzarolli is physically scarred by the events as well as mentally and emotionally. Horns are shown to be a source of social pride for imps, adding self-esteem and identity to the list of things Fizz lost in the disaster. But because it is implied that Blitz's mother actually did die in the fire, that is a tragedy somehow beyond belief for someone like Fizzarolli. It would be safe to assume that Tilla's death would have been felt by everyone who survived the circus, or at the least for the kids. The dialogue sets up a divide that somehow Blitz watching how his careless moodiness almost killed his crush is not at the top of the list of traumas Blitz has to sort through from this sequence is hard to believe.

Speaking of crush.

And that gets to why this episode as a whole fails to work on a fundamental level. For what it is, what it wants to be, and what it is trying to set up, this episode consistently drops the ball. It is confounding to think that Medrano believed that the relationship for Stolas and Blitz was for more necessary to show than this.

This episode should have been a flashback.

The entire episode should have been the lead up to the disaster. Show us the relationship of Blitz and Barbie and Fizzarolli. Show us the way Blitz is treated by others at the circus even as he ages.

Show us Tilla for five minutes for the love of everything meaningful. It's so hard to believe this should be important to the characters or story when we are given nothing concrete about who Tilla was as a person or mother. We lived the flashbacks of Bojack, no matter how short a snippet they were. We experienced Beatrice's callous nature or his father's self-centered abuse. For as important as she is implied to be, Tilla is not so important as to be an active participant in the story.

At the end of all this, I believe that the greatest issues boil down to a set list

- Characters do not have any lasting responsibility to the situation, their actions or the outcome.

- Somehow a character like Tilla who has never been seen and lacks any personality outside of early Steven Universe Rose Quartz perfection is a loss that is elevated over the trauma we are allowed to very distantly experience in Fizzarolli's monologue.

- The fact that we still have no idea about who any of these characters were to appreciate the sense of loss that this episode was supposed to supply.

- Fizzarolli and Blitz make up completely by the end of a single episode.

- The lack of buildup to the disaster causes confusion as to why it ever happens. Blitz throwing the confession letter on the ground and walking away has no rhyme or reason to it.

This episode is a literal laundry list of bad choices and poor structuring. When a school teacher writes in the margin, "Show, don't tell," this is what they are talking about.

[tragedybunny]

To Make You Feel My Love - Chapter 1 of 3

༺Summary༻

Astarion and Serafina continue to pursue their relationship as the confrontation with Cazador looms, and then during the fallout afterward. A couple of chapters that explore their deepening bond and their struggle to build "something real".

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ Angst, Hurt / Comfort, Attempted Sex

༺Word Count༻ 2776

༺A/N༻ Another fic featuring my Tav as a name character! Very excited to share more of Serafina. Thanks to my lovely friend @icybluepenguin for the beta and support!

Read on AO3

Astarion was a wretch, and he knew it. He was finicky, selfish, obnoxious, and difficult. But he also knew so much of that was because of life under Cazador. It was who he was outside of that life that he didn't know. He wasn't sure how to find out, either, or how much he wanted to. 

He’d expected it to be asked of him though, that eventually he should find a way to make himself more palatable. Serafina never did though. Sometimes it stuck in his throat like bile how kind she was to him. She never asked anything of him, only gave and gave, while he took and took, with gentle words and warm smiles until sometimes he worried there would be nothing left of her. 

It drove him mad, for several reasons. First, he was convinced that one day that fount of affection and understanding would run dry. She couldn’t love him as he was forever. Then there was the sensation that he somehow needed to repay it, even if it was never asked of him. Maybe it would balance the scales, maybe it would keep her from tiring of him. No matter what she claimed, she must expect something of him. Finally, and most strangely for him, he wanted to repay it. Didn’t she deserve it, after everything? And she most assuredly needed it. 

Despite her protests that everything was always fine and that she didn’t need anything extra, he knew different. It was ridiculous. He’d seen her going through days with tired eyes, giving smiles that only lasted as long as they needed to, and the way her shoulders would slump when things would upset her, but she wouldn’t say anything. 

Like earlier today, when he’d opened his mouth and ruined everything again.

Flowers. That’s how it had all started. They’d passed through a garden in full bloom, and words had tumbled out of him before he could think. 

“Bright and gaudy.”Inane prattle, complaining about something that had no effect on him simply because he could. He just had to lash out at something.

Cazador was looming over him, the plan already in place to take the fight to him sooner rather than later. His siblings' surprise visit the night before had spurred that decision. Fear gnawed its way into his mind, biting and clawing, ripping away the fragile sense of safety and comfort he'd built.

That didn't change the fact that when Karlach's elbow had collided with his ribs, he'd looked over to see Sera's shoulders drooping and her mood soured. How could he forget about one of the few things she’d let slip about her home. She couldn't reveal much about her past thanks to that pesky warlock pact, but there had been a garden of some sort. And he'd managed to shit on what she had. He was already terrified and he felt himself spiraling back into the thought that he didn’t know why she bothered with him. 

“What should I do?” he whispered desperately to Karlach.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, buy her flowers or something?” 

Which is how he’d ended up here. Everyone had made their way back to the Elfsong  but Astarion had excused himself with a hasty lie about needing to think. Sera’s brow had crinkled in concern for him and he felt a twinge of guilt when he pulled her close and gave her a quick kiss. He’d make it up later, or he planned to anyway. 

But now he was stuck, wandering around this shop that was an overwhelming riot of color and scents. Something about cut flowers didn't seem to fit, and he'd been paralyzed in front of the rows and rows  of them for minutes. They looked nice enough, but they wouldn't last. His gaze wandered to the other side of the shop through the crowd. Maybe a potted plant…?

“Can I help you?” A bubbly elf with blonde hair and tan skin appeared beside him. 

Her gold eyes looked up at him with such sincerity, he almost sneered. As if this shop contained some life changing secrets and not flowers.

“I…” He cleared his throat- he was not lost, just thinking. “I’m looking for something for my partner. Something that will last longer than flowers in a vase.” There, that wasn’t so bad, he could do this. 

“Of course, let me show you our selection of potted plants,” she said, gesturing enthusiastically. “Can you tell me a bit about them?”

“She, well, she… ” Why was this so hard? He felt so much for her, but speaking of her made him feel awkward and inadequate. She was the first warm light of morning washing over him and a comforting touch in the night. She was a hasty kiss after a hard won fight, and lighthearted laughter around the campfire. “She’s…”

“Newer relationship?” the elf said with a light giggle that made him want to reach for a dagger. The insinuation that he knew nothing about Sera was clear. 

“What does it matter anyway,” he hissed, drawing looks from the other patrons. 

The girl was thrown off balance by his sudden aggression and her gleaming smile faltered. “It might help to pick out something she’d like, but you’re free to browse for a while.” Turning away, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving him to fend for himself.

He almost went after her, but stubborn pride rooted him to the spot. With resolve, he eyed the shelves in front of him. Rows of bright-colored, glazed pots gleamed in the sunlight streaming in from the large shop window. Inside each one, a scrap of greenery he knew nothing about. Many had small blooms, some sported colorful leaves, and none of them were the right thing.

He began to sink into despair. This whole thing had been a stupid, impetuous idea. “Buy her flowers.” Apparently he couldn't even figure out the most basic of gifts for her. He'd just head back to the Elfsong, empty-handed, another day the scales between them were left uneven. If he just left now, it would be less time wasted. 

Just as he turned to go, it caught his eye. A delicate plant in a pot glazed in the colors of twilight, with a few small, blue blossoms. He stepped closer, drawn to it. The rich blue was the same color as Sera's eyes, he was sure of it. But it was tiny, like it would hardly survive the trip across town if the wind picked up. 

“Find something?” The irritating clerk was back, somehow having snuck up on him.

“That one,” he pointed. 

“Oh, the little forget-me-not!” 

Astarion cringed at the name as she reached for it. 

“Do you know the origin of it?” 

Of course not. It was a flower and before now, he wasn't exactly able to frolic in the sun and enjoy them. And it wasn’t like they were part of Cazador’s decor scheme. 

“No,” he said through gritted teeth, sure he was about to hear it. He should have just stolen it. 

“Humans didn’t come into being until long after elves. During those times, elves only coupled with one another, only knew lovers that would live as long as they did. But, eventually, an elven man met a human woman, and they fell deeply in love. The elf stayed by her side, even as she grew old and died, having only lived a fraction of his life. He buried her in winter and when he returned to her grave in the spring, he found these beautiful blue flowers had grown up over it. They were nothing like anything that anyone had ever seen before. They spread from her grave throughout the land, so that wherever he went, he was reminded of her. In that way, they earned the name forget-me-not. What a beautiful tragedy- a love so true, but one will live without the other for so long.” She sighed dreamily after she finished. 

Astarion swallowed the lump in his throat. “Right, well, that's lovely and all, but I have somewhere to be.” 

The elf huffed and silently led him back to the counter. He'd pay double if it meant she'd let him go without more chatter. 

“Oh, one more thing,” she said, taking his money, “this can be planted outdoors. Perhaps if you and your lady love have a place of your own someday.” 

Those words swirled around and around in Astarion’s mind as he gingerly carried the little plant back through the streets to the Elfsong. “A place of their own.” As if that was something he could even begin to aspire to. But why not? Why couldn’t he and Sera have a home of their own, and a  happy, beautiful life? Because that wasn’t him. Who would want a vampire for a neighbor? And why would she want a lifetime with one?

He took a deep breath and tried to silence those thoughts. Sera loved him. He knew that was true, even when it was hard to remember. He just had to keep it that way. His eyes glanced down to the plant nestled in his hands. It seemed a silly gesture in that light, a plant in exchange for her love. The whole thing was a bad idea. 

He should have done better. 

When he finally made it back, the rest of the group was eating dinner in the raucous common room of the inn. He’d never admit it, but sometimes he missed the quiet nights under the stars. For two hundred years, he’d known this type of hustle and bustle; its opposite had grown on him. Not to mention, it had given the two of them so many calm nights to get to know each other. A thought that caused his chest to tighten; he’d thrown so many of those nights away with his “perfect plan”, time he’d never get back. 

Cutting through the fringes of the room, he avoided the group, not wanting a public display of what was likely the most ridiculous gift he could have thought of. Natural stealth let him blend into the crowd and slink his way to the stairs. Bad luck put Jahiera right in front of him. 

“Bat pup, what are you up to, creeping around like this?” From her tone, Jahiera was only really half suspicious. 

“I…”  He glanced down at the plant his hands were protectively wrapped around. 

Jahiera’s gaze followed his. “I never took you as one for greenery, Astarion.” 

“It’s not for me, ” he blurted, cringing inwardly. What if she told someone? All of them? Would they get a laugh out of the vampire trying to play the lover?  

She lifted an eyebrow and smiled a small, knowing smile. “I see. Should I let her know you’re waiting upstairs?” 

For some reason lately, Jaheira had started to behave with the infuriating air of someone older, and wiser around him, despite the fact that  he had years on her. It was almost maternal in a way, and usually grated on him to no end. But today, he was quietly relieved to have her step in.

 “If you must interject yourself.” He shrugged, struggling to put the mask of calm indifference back on. 

“I think I will let the attitude slide for tonight, Astarion. Mayhaps tomorrow I will box your ears for it.” 

He opened his mouth  to snap back at her but she cut him off. 

“And I’ll expect a thank-you when it’s all said and done.” 

“Yes, Mother,” he sighed dramatically and began to walk away. 

As soon as he was sure he was out of sight, he hurried his pace, not wanting to be caught out in the hallway when Sera came upstairs. With the door to the common room shut behind him, he took up position in their shared corner. Two beds and a folding screen, the most privacy they could manage right now. Another reason to miss the outdoors. Even if sleeping on the ground had been hellishly uncomfortable, the tent had walls at least. 

It always struck him to see Sera’s things mixed in with his. A physical reminder that she had chosen this, him, even after his confession. And it gave him hope that she would keep choosing that way. 

“Astarion, you wanted to see me?” Her voice interrupted his thoughts from across the room. 

“Yes, darling, sorry to disturb your evening.” Perfect, just keep going, don’t screw this up. 

The distance between them evaporated and she was standing right in front of him, waiting for him to continue. He kept his arms behind his back, keeping the plant hidden, still doubting it. 

“I just wanted to apologize, for earlier today.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to. You didn’t realize-” 

“No,” he spat out more harshly than he intended and watched her eyes widen for a moment. Gods, why did he always lose his silver tongue where she was concerned. “Please don’t do that,” he softened his voice. “You’re always worried about my words when it comes to our companions, random strangers, and even my siblings. Don’t dismiss your own feelings so easily, hold me accountable for them, like anyone else’s.” Don’t make yourself tired of me, he added silently. 

“With everything going on, I just didn’t want to make things harder for you. But, thank you.” 

“See, that’s better, isn’t it?” He smiled, recovery made, things were going well. 

“So, what’s behind your back?” She craned her neck, trying to peek around him playfully. 

No avoiding it now. “I wanted to get you something to make up for it. It seems a bit foolish really.” Hesitantly, he presented the little plant to her. 

She took it from his hands with reverence. “Forget-me-nots,” she beamed at the small flowers that matched the color of her eyes. “They’re beautiful. Thank you, Astarion, I love it.” 

A small, awkward laugh escaped him. “Well, that’s quite a relief.”

And then she was moving, placing the plant on the table near their bed, before practically lunging at Astarion. The sudden force of her embrace knocked him from his feet and they collapsed back onto the mattress in a heap. 

“Sorry,” Sera said through a soft laugh before kissing him. “You're wonderful, you know that?”

“I mean, I do, but I could stand to hear it more.” 

“How about I show you instead?” She leaned in, kissing him again, lips parting tantalizingly. 

He wanted to devour her, to pull her in tight and taste every bit of her. His tongue darted inside her mouth, eliciting a soft moan. 

Ice ran up his spine, and he felt himself go rigid.

She pulled back and looked at him with concern. “Is it too much?” 

The hells take his traitorous body. “No, I-I want to try. Please.” He bit back a growl of frustration. It killed him to want her this bad and to have the only thing stopping him be himself.

“Alright.” 

She'd barely answered before he was pushing her back to the mattress by her shoulders and crawling between her legs.

He covered the exposed flesh of her neck with soft nips, fangs barely raking the skin. One hand found its way under her shirt, groping at her pebbled nipple. 

Whimpering, her hips bucked against his, the sweetest pressure on his hardening cock. He groaned against her skin, both hands now pushing her shirt up, exploring her soft curves. 

Head tilted to the side, she offered without words that delicious nectar he could never resist. Fangs burrowed into their favored spot and bliss filled his mouth.  

Fingers tangled into his curls as he rutted against her. Her tongue lapped at the shell of his ear before she moaned his name.  She was lost in him. Like a thousand others before her…

He froze, the world around him going hazy. 

“Astarion,” she called to him softly.

“I can't,” he gasped, hot shame washing over him. Sera wasn't just another one of them, it shouldn't be like this. “I'm sorry.”

Gentle hands guided him to the mattress, arms enfolding him, so his head was buried in her neck. “Hush,” she kissed his forehead. 

Neither said anything further about it, there wasn't need. He knew she didn't expect it of him, and she knew he had needed to try.  

“Drink if you want,” she whispered, stroking his hair. 

Gods, he loved her, even if he wasn't sure he'd ever told her properly how much. He bit back into the open wounds and drank lazily, eyes drifting to the bedside table and the little plant. Maybe there would be a someday with a place it could bloom outside, a place they both called home. 

Tag list:

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblogg @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary @talented-bitch @waking-electric @snowfolly

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

moonstruck • rhett abbott x fem!reader, perry abbott x fem!reader

I wrote this for @sorchathered’s birthday rom com celebration! Happy Belated Birthday! Thank you for letting me combine two of my favorite things: Lew and ‘Moonstruck’. I know it was your celebration but that was a gift to me 😉

Warnings: alcohol consumption, implied smut, impure thoughts about rhett abbott, being engaged to perry abbott (if you’ve seen the movie, you’ll get it)

Note: I adore this movie with all my heart so I tried to fill this with lots of nods to the iconic moments. But it also means that characters might be a bit less true to their Outer Range selves in order to make the story work.

Maybe it should have been a red flag that you hadn’t met Perry’s brother until after you were engaged.

But then again, the whole thing had been a bit of a whirlwind — and you had met Amy. Sweet, smart, beautiful Amy who had been the main reason you said “yes” when Perry had surprised you with a ring at dinner just a few months into your relationship.

“I can’t imagine anyone who’d be a better stepmother to Amy,” he’d said at the time and how was anyone supposed to say no to that?

And if you were a bit hesitant about the whole thing, your mother had done her best to reassure you over steaming mugs of tea at her weathered kitchen table. “You love his daughter, and that’s the important part,” she had said, rubbing her thumb gently over the back of your hand. “It’s better to be devoted to your family, rather than any man. Especially a cowboy.”

You sighed. “He’s not that kind of cowboy, Mama. He works with his dad on the family ranch.”

“Good,” she responded decisively, standing up to make some more tea. “Cowboys are nothing but heartbreak. They’ll always love the rodeo, the animals, the adventure, the life more than they’ll love you.”

And so that was that. You focused your energy on building a relationship with Amy, got to know Royal and Cecelia and went through the motions of starting to plan a simple, courthouse wedding.

Perry didn’t have strong feelings about the big day, having done the whole song and dance once before, but two weeks into planning, he surprised you with the announcement that he had to go away for a while on business — and he had one big favor to ask. 

“It’s been tearing me up inside,” he said, arm a little too tight around your waist as you sat on the couch, TV on mute in the background. “I just can’t get married without my brother standing up with me.”

“So why not just invite him?”

Perry scoffed. “Rhett is … real fucking stubborn. And he decided a long time ago that he didn’t care about anything I had to say.” He paused, tightening his rip just a fraction before letting you go and dramatically sighing, leaning back into the couch cushions. “But maybe if you were to ask him to come … explain that you want this to mark a fresh new start for all of us, as a family. As Amy’s family. Maybe he’d be willing to listen.”

It was the promise of being Amy’s family, of giving her the happy ending that had seemingly been ripped away from her when her mother disappeared that brought you to the Abbott ranch, eyes squinting against the harsh sunlight as you approached Rhett Abbott to ask for forgiveness on behalf of his brother.

Now this is a cowboy, you thought to yourself as you watched his broad shoulders flex under his tee shirt as he worked on repairing a broken section of fencing. The back of his neck was turning pink and the ends of his hair curled with sweat under his cap, but he seemed unbothered as he continued working, big hands moving quickly and competently.

“Rhett? Rhett Abbott?” you asked, and when he wheeled around and those blue eyes landed on yours, it felt like your heart stopped for a second.

“Can I help ya?” he drawled, pulling his baseball cap off his head and wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his muscled forearm. He was all golden skin and sharp cheekbones, cheeks flushed pike from the heat and exertion and a smirk that was designed to give women the naughtiest of thoughts.

Stop it. You’re engaged. To his brother. Behave yourself.

You must have taken longer than you realized to reply, because that smirk turned into a grin as Rhett leaned forward and offered out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Now, what can I do for a beautiful woman such as yourself?”

Your face felt like it was on fire as you shook his hand, warm and calloused and completely dwarfing yours. When he didn’t seem to recognize your name after you introduced yourself, you continued, “I’m uh … Perry’s … fiancée, I guess.”

“You’re engaged to Perry?” he asked, arms crossing in front of his chest and you weren’t sure if he was insulting you with his tone of shock.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s pretty recent. The whole thing’s been kind of … fast. But we’re planning the wedding and he wants you to stand there with him, be his best man —“

“And why isn’t he out here askin’ me this?” Rhett interrupted sharply, eyes stormy under the brim of his cap.

“He, um, he’s out of town right now … and anyway he said …” you paused, somehow sensing that the truth — he said you’d be more likely to say ‘yes’ if I asked — wouldn’t go over well. “And well, I wanted to meet you and everything. Get to know the whole family before I become a part of it.”

“Well, we’ve met now. Congratulations on the wedding.”

With that, he turned his back on you, returning to the fence and summarily dismissing you. Once again, you weren’t sure if you should be offended by his actions, but clearly you had accidentally stumbled into some kind of family tension that Perry had not warned you about. 

“So that’s it?” You asked, taking a step closer to him. Rhett grunted as he continued working on the fence. “What, you’re just going to brush off your brother’s request? Shouldn’t a wedding bring family together and not tear them apart?” 

“You don’t know anythin’ about me and Perry,” the cowboy said, his voice cold and his eyes not even looking up for a second.

“So tell me,” you pleaded, making your way closer to him and oh, that might have been a mistake. You could smell him at this distance, the faintest hint of his woodsy body wash, the scent of sun on skin, the tang of sweat.

It almost made you salivate with want — your body had never reacted this way to a man before, and you quickly stepped back and put some space between you two. A safe, platonic distance. “Is … is there something I should know before I marry him? Don’t you think it’s only right that I know the man I’m marrying?”

Finally, Rhett huffed out a sigh and turned around and you were struck again by how blue his eyes were underneath that hint of annoyance.

“Look, you really should be askin’ Perry all this, not me,” he bit out. “I’m not staying here much longer anyway, so you don’t even need to get to know me. You’ll only ever see me at holidays and shit like that.”

“Where are you going?”

“Rodeo circuit,” Rhett responded, a hint of pride in his voice. “Got a spot on a semi-pro tour, so I’ll be on the road soon enough.” 

You congratulated him faintly, images of this gruff, gorgeous man on the back of a bull filling your brain and making you a bit weak in the knees.

“Yeah, so it’s all good. I’ll be outta your way soon enough and you and Perry can have your wedding with no issues,” Rhett concluded.

He started to turn back to his work and you felt a surge of panic run through you, like if you didn’t manage to convince him to stick around right this second, you’d never have the chance again. (And you could unpack why, exactly, it was so vital for you to have your fiancé’s brother around as much as possible later, in the shaming quiet of your bedroom.)

“Well, how about this then,” you start, enjoying the way Rhett’s brows lifted under the brim of his cap, his eyes dancing with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Spend some time with me and Amy before you go — just to help me get to know her better. I want to build a strong relationship with her, she’s my number one priority in all this. And I know she adores her Uncle Rhett. So maybe you can just … help us bond?”

The cowboy hesitated a moment, his eyes roaming all over your face in a way that made your cheeks heat up. He must have found what he was searching for because he ultimately pulled off his work glove once more and held out a big, calloused hand.

“For Amy,” he said and you felt your face split open with a bright grin.

“For Amy,” you agreed, grasping his hand. And yet, despite the warmth of his hand engulfing yours, despite the fact that you managed to convince him to give you a chance, despite the fact that you should have been pleased with yourself, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

That sinking feeling only got worse the more time you spent with Rhett, the more you got to feel the full weight of his attention on you, the more you saw the way he lit up around Amy, always willing to go out of his way to make her happy.

Unfortunately for you, what would make her happy right now was to go for a ride with Uncle Rhett and you — a Wyoming native who had, shockingly, never been on the back of a horse before.

“How did you grow up here without ever ridin’ a horse?” Rhett asked you incredulously when you confessed your lack of experience after Amy dragged you to meet him in the stables, all wide, pleading eyes. “It makes no sense.”

You shrug uncomfortably, staring at the horses relaxing in the stables with a critical eye. “My dad was a cowboy but he died when I was little. My mama grew up Cheyenne, so we moved back there for a long time and only came to Wabang when my granddaddy left her the bakery. So I just … never learned.”

You wrapped your arms around your torso as you spoke, curling in on yourself in embarrassment, eyes self-consciously locked on the far wall so you could avoid seeing the judgement on Rhett’s face. It was why you startled slightly when you felt Amy’s little arms hug you out of nowhere, the feeling of her tight squeeze making you let out a deep breath of relief.

“Don’t worry! Uncle Rhett can teach you, he and dad taught me and he’s really good!” she assured you and you laughed softly.

“Thanks, Ames,” you said, softly brushing some of the hair that escaped her braid back from her face. You cast a tentative look up at Rhett, who was smiling softly at you. “Whaddya say, Uncle Rhett? Willing to take on a new student?”

The cowboy said nothing, though his eyes were bright with amusement as he made his way over to one of the stalls to start getting one of the horses ready for you, Amy bounding behind him.

You couldn’t stop smiling as the 9-year-old narrated everything her uncle was doing, beaming brightly when he praised her for remembering certain tidbits that he had shared with her over the years. Her enthusiasm went a long way towards making you more comfortable, as did the teasing words and glances that Rhett shot your way the whole time.

But that smile was wiped right off your face, when he held out his hand and beckoned you over. “C’mere, I’ll help you get into the saddle,” he said softly and you felt all of your blood rush into your face.

“Aren’t there like, stairs or something I could use?” You asked, knowing that the second you put your hand in his, all of the tempting thoughts about him that you’d successfully shoved down would come rushing back into your head. His blue eyes shone as he shook his head, explaining that they put it away somewhere and it would take too long to find right now.

“I won’t let ya fall,” he said, those beautiful eyes locked on yours. “Promise.”

As Amy urged you along from the back of her own horse, you tentatively reached forward and took Rhett’s big hand in yours. It was like you could hear your heart beating in your ears as he tugged you over and instructed you to put one foot in the stirrups and your free hand on the saddle horn.

“I can give you a boost if ya need,” he added, his voice low and grumbly and far, far too close. You must have nodded absently, because the next thing you knew, Rhett placed your second hand on the saddle horn and moved around to lightly grasp your waist.

Your skin burned where you felt those hands on you and even though he kept them in a perfectly respectable place — perfectly polite for someone who was engaged to his brother — you couldn’t help but imagine the heat of them in other, less savory places on your body. The way those calloused palms would feel brushing over your lower back, how his hands would span the entire distance of your neck, how those long fingers would feel filling up your —

“Ready?” he asked, hot breath against the back of your neck.

“I think so,” you responded weakly, and you felt him chuckle. He murmured a low countdown and at the number “three” you hoisted yourself up and swung one leg over to the other side of the saddle, feeling a little lightheaded at his little grunt of effort as he helped lift you up off the ground.

Once you were in and settled, you expected him to back away, but instead, Rhett leaned over your lap to gather up the reins and hand them to you.

“There ya go. You’re a natural,” he said, voice still gritty enough to feel like a gut-punch when it was paired with the heat of his gaze on your face. He was so close and so beautiful and you could catch the faintest whiff of that intoxicating, woodsy scent if you just leaned a little closer —

“Let’s goooooo,” Amy called, wiggling a little impatiently in her saddle and effectively startling your out of our fantasies.

You’ve gotta stop this. You’re engaged, for chrissakes.

“We’re comin’, we’re comin’,” Rhett grumbled, heading over to his own horse and swinging into the saddle with grace. “You gonna be late for some cartoons or somethin’?”

The pair set out, with you slightly behind them, head still swimming with shameful thoughts of your fiancé’s brother and face still burning. It took a while for you to let the pair’s teasing distract you from the feeling of guilt that had made a home in your stomach since the day you met Rhett, but eventually you were able to let go and enjoy your time on the trail.

And if you stared at the ceiling later that night, mind replaying the way Rhett’s eyes darkened and his lips turned up into a little smirk when he helped you down off the horse at the end of your outing, well, nobody needed to know about that.

The air at the rodeo was electric, the excitement infectious and the smell of fried food making everyone salivate as they made their way to the stands. You hadn’t been to the rodeo since high school, more interested in chatting with your friends or trying to spot your crush than in the actual events, but this night was making you regret all of those years you ignored its presence.

It helped that Amy was practically vibrating with excitement, tugging you around by the hand as she babbled on and on about her favorite food stalls and rattling off stats about the various bull riders. Of course, none of them compared to Uncle Rhett in her mind, but her knowledge of the sport was truly impressive.

“— but the bull they gave Uncle Rhett that time was a bad one, everyone knew it, and anyway he got another shot and that time he came in first place because he’s the best —“

“Amy, Amy, slow down,” you chuckled, head spinning as you tried to both keep up with the conversation and keep her from crashing into anyone at the same time.

“Come on, we have to get popcorn before the bull riding starts, I’m always in the stand for Uncle Rhett,” she powered on, not even pausing for a second as she continued on her mission, a crisp five dollar bill in her hand, courtesy of Cecilia. “There! Come on, come on!”

You could feel the heels of your shoes practically skid in the dirt as she took off towards the line and you had to stop short when she finally, abruptly stopped walking to join in. You took a deep breath, relieved to be able to pause for a second and take in the atmosphere, when you hear her shriek beside you.

Your heart stopped for a second as you wheeled around to spot her, only for it to skip a beat for a completely different reason when you realized that Rhett had snuck up behind her.

His grin was blinding as he picked her up and swung her around in a tight circle, her delighted squeals flying through the air. It only got wider and more brilliant when she began playfully hitting his chest after her put her down, and he pretended that her blows were about to knock him down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he got out between laughs, and you couldn’t stop your own smile from breaking out across your face.

“I almost had a heart attack when she screamed like that,” you admitted and his cobalt eyes moved from Amy to meet yours.

“My apologies, ma’am,” he said with an exaggerated drawl, playfully tipping his cowboy hat at you in mock apology. You had to fight the urge to duck your head as you felt your face heat up at his actions.

What was this effect that he had on you? You had never been the type to giggle and blush at any guy before Rhett, but there was something about him that just made you feel like a teenager with her first crush all over again.

“Apology accepted, cowboy,” you managed to get out and his eyes danced with mischief. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your big ride?”

“I was, I just had to come say hi to my favorite lady,” Rhett said, giving a gentle tug to the end of Amy’s ponytail. She looked up at him with a giant smile, clearly pleased to hear that she was her uncle’s “favorite,” and your heart melted at the sight. He gently pushed her along when it was her turn to order popcorn, and you stepped out of the line as she made her way up.

“So, you’re sticking around for my ride?” he asked.

“Of course,” you responded, a little surprised that he thought you weren’t here to watch him alongside his family. “Wouldn’t miss it. I haven’t even been to the rodeo in years, it’s really exciting to know one of the competitors.”

“Well, hopefully I manage to make your return to the rodeo an exciting one,” he said, hands settling on his waist, right next to his big, silver belt buckle.

You were grateful that Amy bounded back over to the two of you then, effectively preventing you from all of the dirty thoughts that you were about to have about what might rest behind that gaudy buckle. Rhett gave his niece another hug — and sent a wink your way that you were definitely not going to spend the night thinking about — before you went your separate ways.

By the time you made it back to the Abbotts in the stands, you were just as excited for Rhett’s ride as Amy was.

Your heart was in your throat for the entirety of the bull riding competition, because of course, Wabang’s hometown hero had to go last. When it was finally his turn, Amy gripped your arm tightly as you both watched, unblinking, for them to open the gate and begin his ride. You weren’t sure you took a single breath for the entirety of his time, those 8 seconds feeling like an eternity as you watched Rhett hold onto that bull for dear life.

When the buzzer finally sounded and he was back on his feet, it was like all of the blood in your body came rushing back into your veins, heartbeat thumping in your ears.

And then, there it was, right at the top of the leaderboard: R. Abbott.

Amy’s excited cheer was more like a shriek as the four of you jumped up and down in the stands, popcorn trampled below your feet as you celebrated with his family. With your new family.

And if you wanted to believe that Rhett was looking at you, in particular, as he pounded his chest with pride, well, you allowed yourself that one, tiny indulgence.

You were still breathless as you made your way out of the stands a little while later, following Royal, Cecelia and Amy as they made their way to find and congratulate Rhett in person. The four of you were almost at the riders’ entrance when you heard someone call your name from the crowd.

“Evening,” Royal said, tipping his hat at Joy Hawk after she managed to get everyone’s attention.

“Hi there Royal, Cecelia,” she said, nodding at them both in turn before turning to Amy. “Hi Amy. How’re you doing, sweetie?”

The 9-year-old excitedly told her all about Rhett’s ride as she smiled and agreed that it had been “one heck of a ride.” After a minute, she turned to you and said you name again. “Could I speak to you for just a moment? One-on-one?”

“O-okay,” you agreed, confused as to what she could possibly want.

After giving you a look that you translated to “we’re here if you need us,” Cecelia explained that they would go and wait for Rhett while you chatted with the deputy sheriff. “I’m sure you’ll just be a moment,” she added, before taking Amy by the hand and leading her away with one last look.

“Is … is everything okay?” you asked tentatively as Joy sighed deeply.

“I would have preferred not to be the one to tell you this, but, well, I can’t seem to get ahold of Perry —“

“He’s out of town,” you said quickly. “Is he okay?”

“Far as I know he is,” she reassured you before taking another deep breath. “I saw you two had filed for a marriage license and well, the thing is, he’s still married. To Rebecca.”

“But she … left. She’s not part of their lives anymore. Not part of Amy’s life,” you said, not quite following what she was telling you.

“Right, right. She’s a missing person. But see, the thing is, as long as she’s a missing person — and we don’t know that she died, god forbid — Perry is still legally married to her. Their marriage is still valid until either they manage to file for divorce or she’s declared … dead.”

“Oh.”

The news hit you like a ton of bricks. What did this mean for you? For your relationship? You had been planning a wedding and this whole time, Perry was still married? So what was the point of all of it?

“Now, you two can still have a wedding, I’m not gonna stop you from that,” Joy continued, her tone soft and comforting. “Y’all just won’t be legally married until this all gets sorted out.”

“And … how long would that take?”

Joy sighed heavily, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “I don’t know. Depends on whether or not Rebecca … comes back.”

You nodded absently, feeling your whole world tilt on its axis. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Rebecca would be found or return of her own volition. If that happened would you just be pushed out of the family again? Would you still be able to see Amy?

Did that mean that the best case scenario for you was that this precious little girl’s mother was dead? How could you hope for something like that?

“I’m real sorry to break the news to you like this. Like I said, I’ve been trying to get ahold of Perry, but he and I can go over everything when he gets back,” the deputy sheriff said, patting you kindly on the arm.

You murmured your thanks before spinning around and making your way over to the Abbotts, head still swimming with questions.

By the time you made it there, they were chatting with a grinning Rhett, who was carrying Amy on his back. His smile faltered when he saw you and the dazed look on your face and you did your best to paste on a smile of your own. It must not have been totally convincing, though, because he let his niece slide down off his back as Royal and Cecelia exchanged looks.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Rhett said, his blunt words making you huff out a laugh. “I’m going to celebrate at the Handsome Gambler — come with me.”

The last thing you needed to do was be alone with Rhett Abbott, especially if alcohol was involved. But the world had just thrown a huge wrench in your plans, so you weren’t even thinking about it being a bad idea when you agreed.

“You ready to tell me what’s got you so spooked?” Rhett asked, leaning across the table so you could hear him over the music. You were both a few beers in — though Rhett had also enjoyed a handful of celebratory tequila shots that some of the locals had bought for him — and his cheeks were flushed pink from laughter and booze.

You contemplated telling him for a second, letting all of your frustrations and anxieties spill out (it turns out that Perry is still legally married so this whole engagement is more of a farce than it seems and if she comes back she’s probably not going to let me see Amy which is the main reason I said yes in the first place) before you remembered that he and Perry still had a complicated relationship.

As torn up as you were, you didn’t want to do anything to damage that bond even more.

“It’s nothing,” you said, shaking your head and taking a swig of your beer as if you swallow your words back down. “Anyway, we’re not done talking about that amazing ride of yours, cowboy.”

You attempt at distraction clearly didn’t work; Rhett just leaned further across the table, those damn blue eyes roaming all over your face.

“Somethin’s clearly up. Is it Perry’s fault?”

“Why do you assume it’s something Perry did?” you fire back, less out of a need to protect your fiancé’s feelings than to try and get Rhett off the track.

“Perry’s always doing something,” he replied, shaking his head. He stared hard at you for a moment longer, setting off a wave of butterflies in your gut, before grinning and sitting back down in the booth. “Okay, clearly we need another beer and then you’ll talk.”

“Rhett —“ you began, but you cut yourself off with a laugh as you watched him make a goofy, exaggerated motion to the bar’s sole waitress. “You think you can just get me drunk and I’ll spill all my secrets?”

“Oh, so you have secrets, do you?” He asked, raising one eyebrow in mocking curiosity. “Tell me a secret.”

“No,” you responded, but you were laughing still. “You don’t get to demand a secret.”

“What if I’m just so charming you can’t help but tell me?” You snorted and took a sip of your beer to cover up the fact that you did, in fact, find him charming. “Here, I’ll make you a deal: I’ll tell you a secret if you tell me one. Something you’ve never told anyone else,” he said, smiling slyly at you.

I like you so much. I can’t stop thinking about you. It makes me feel so guilty.

The words came to your brain before you could stop them. You definitely weren’t going to say them out loud — you weren’t sure you had even admitted them to yourself before this moment. But you knew, deep in your gut, that they were true.

That realization was almost more shocking than learning that your fiancé was still legally married.

“I gotta —“ you began, jumping up from the table and almost bumping into the waitress as she dropped off two new beers. “Bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

You rushed off before Rhett could stop you, weaving your way through the crowd at the bar and a few dancing couples before you found the blissfully empty bathroom. After locking the door behind you, you landed against the sink, taking a few deep, steadying breaths as the bass from the music echoed through the wall. You stared at yourself in the mirror, a long, hard look.

I like him.

I like Rhett.

I have feelings for him.

He’s my fiancé’s brother.

I’m crazy about him.

You shook your head, as if you cast those thoughts out of your brain. “Snap out of it,” you muttered to yourself. “You gotta snap out of it.”

Frantically, you turned on the water, yanking the faucet all the way to cold and ran your wrists under the stream of freezing water in an attempt to shock your system. You let out a long, slow exhale, allowing the cold to bring you back to yourself.

You’d just go back to the table, tell Rhett that you were tired and go home. Perry would be home in a couple of days and you could put the whole thing out of your mind and just focus on him and Amy. And then Rhett would be on the road soon.

Ignoring the small pang of of sadness that passed through you at the thought, you turned off the faucet and dried off your hands. Taking a moment to swipe away any mascara that had smudged under your eyes, you braced yourself and exited the bathroom determined to stay as far away from Rhett as possible.

So naturally, you barreled right into him as you turned the corner to make your way back to the table.

“Hey, hey, sorry about that,” he said, big, rough hands holding you steady. “I didn’t mean to walk right into ya, I was just coming to see if you were okay. You took off kinda quick.”

Did he know his thumbs were gently rubbing against the bare skin of your forearms? Because you did. It was all you could think about.

“I- I’m fine. Thank you,” you said, and even though you knew you should pull away from him, you made no move to do so. “Just needed some quiet for a second.”

“Alright, as long as you’re okay,” he said, giving your arms a brief squeeze before letting go. You immediately missed the warmth of his hands on your skin. “You thinkin’ ya wanna head out?”

You nodded absently and he smiled before turning around to lead you out the door. Just as you started to take a few steps, though, the song changed, an old Linda Ronstadt song that your mother used to sing along to as you both cleaned the house on a Sunday morning.

“Oh, I love this song,” you said, not realizing it was loud enough for Rhett to hear until he turned around with a smile.

“Yeah? I think my mama used to play this one in the truck sometimes,” he said, before taking a step back and holding a hand out toward you. “Dance with me? Just for this one song and then we can go. Seems a shame not to since you love it so much.”

You couldn’t resist. His eyes were shining too brightly, his smile revealing small little dimples that you had never noticed before, Linda’s voice calling for you to spin away on the dance floor. You took Rhett’s outstretched hand and his smile widened, brilliant and completely intoxicating.

The pair of you kept a respectful distance even as he spun you around, though he kept your hand in his the whole time. He laughed as you sang along to the song and then the next one and the next.

You lost track of how long the two of you had been dancing until he tugged you a little closer when a ballad came on, Hank Williams crooning low and slow as you breathlessly wrapped one arm around his shoulders.

Your actions seemed to embolden Rhett, who dropped a hand to your waist and pulled you in even more.

You could see every freckle on his face, every shade of blue in his eyes, how the pupils dilated as the two of you swayed together, lost in the moment. You licked you lips unconsciously and you watched his gaze dart down to your mouth before he purposefully looked back up, into your eyes.

“I like having you ‘round, you know?” he murmured and your heart began pounding erratically. “You make things brighter. And I like seein’ Amy so happy.”

“I like being around you, too. All of you,” you said, feeling a little dizzy as his words echoed around your brain. “Feels like I … fit. I’m not used to that feeling.”

Rhett smiled at that, so you continued. “And I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in a long time. With Amy, with you …”

“Happy to be of service,” he chucked. “You have a great smile. Real pretty."

Your face felt so warm, it had to be obvious to everyone in this bar just how much this cowboy was making you melt. “You’re not too bad yourself, Rhett Abbott.”

He dropped your hand for a second to tilt his cowboy hat up so you could see his face more clearly, before sliding it back around you, warm and possessive against your lower back.

“It’s a real shame Perry met you before I did,” he murmured. “Kinda wish it was the other way ‘round.”

Oh.

Oh, no. That was the wrong thing for him to say to you. This was only going to make your little crush on him worse. Because sometimes you felt the exact same way.

Because sometimes as you drifted off to sleep, you imagined what would have happened if you did meet Rhett first, if you were engaged to him instead of his brother.

Your shock — and maybe guilt — must have shown on your face because Rhett quickly let go of you and stepped back.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have said that,” he said quickly. “I’ve been drinking — let’s just blame it on the tequila, okay? I say dumb shit when I’m drunk.”

“It’s fine, it’s okay,” you reassured him. “We’ve both been drinking. It’s fine.”

“Lemme — we can just head home, okay? We’ll just get out of here and forget about it,” he continued, already making his way back to the entrance.

But you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to forget it, even if you wanted to. The low, soft way he spoke, the way his eyes were locked on your face, the shape his lips made as he said it. I wish it was the other way ‘round.

It was everything you wanted to hear. It was the absolute worst thing he could have said.

You kept your distance from the Abbott ranch in the days after the rodeo, buried in work, in cleaning your little apartment, in helping your mother around her house, at the bakery, anything to keep yourself from thinking about Rhett’s words.

By the time Perry was home from his trip, the guilt was eating you up inside.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to be excited as you drove over to meet him and Amy for dinner, stomach churning with doubt and confusion and guilt. How could you sit down with this man — this man that you were engaged to for chrissakes — when you couldn’t stop thinking about his brother? How could you pretend that you were a happy family when you wanted to play house with Rhett instead?

Your thoughts were swirling like the dust under your tires as you pulled up to the Abbott ranch to see Perry sitting on the porch. He smiled an waved as you parked the car and pulled you into a hug as you stepped up to meet him.

“How was your trip?” You asked, swallowing around the lump in your throat.

“It was … good. Yeah, it was good. I needed it,” he said.

“Your … business trip?”

He shrugged a little sheepishly, before gesturing to the rocking chairs on the porch. “Yeah. Yeah, lemme — let’s talk for a second.”

He knows. Rhett told him.

Fighting the urge to puke over the porch railing, you gingerly sat down next to Perry, who pulled your hand in his and absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along the back of it as it spoke. You didn’t want to admit it, but it felt wrong when he did it, as opposed to the thrill that ran through you when Rhett touched you.

“Is everything okay, Perry?” you asked softly.

“Yeah, yeah. Look, I should — I wasn’t totally honest with you before I left. I didn’t go on a business trip. I went to … well, I went to try and find Rebecca one last time.” He grimaced slightly as you gasped softly. This was not what you expected when he asked you to talk. “I couldn’t stop thinking of this one place we used to go before Amy was born, this little hiking trail out east. We’d stay in these cabins for the weekend, just the two of us.”

“Oh…kay?” you said, confusion evident in your voice and on your face. Perry took a deep breath, and when he let it out he looked … tired. A little defeated, a little sad.

“She wasn’t there, obviously. But when I was there I realized … I realized I’m never going to stop waiting for her to come home,” he said, the last bit coming out in a rush. “I’m not over her. I thought I was ready to move on, move forward, for Amy’s sake but I just … I’m not there.”

Though he hadn’t made eye contact with you the whole time he was speaking, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze and turned to look you in the eye. You could see the discomfort, the heartbreak swirling in his eyes. “It’s not fair to you. To be married to someone who’s always going to be waiting for someone else. And then when Deputy Sheriff Hawk called me —“

“To tell you about the license?” You asked and he nodded, looking uncomfortable.

“I promise, I didn’t know about it before then. It didn’t even occur to me that Rebecca would have to be … well, you know, before our marriage would be dissolved. I wouldn’t have proposed if I knew. Hell, I wouldn’t have even asked you out that first time.”

Perry sighed again, before continuing, “It just made me realize that I’m still married to her in my heart as well. And I just can’t do that to you. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You nodded absently, letting his words wash over you. “What about Amy, though? She and I have gotten so close —“

“You can still see Amy! Of course you can, she adores you. And I know how much you care about her,” he reassured you.

You felt a rush of relief. Amy was the reason you said yes to his proposal in the first place; it was almost as if the knowledge that you could still spend time with this brilliant, special little girl that you had come to consider family had outweighed any potential heartbreak from Perry ending the engagement.

But then again, maybe ending the engagement was exactly what you had been hoping for since the moment you laid eyes on Rhett.

You have to tell him. It’s only fair.

“I understand, Perry,” you said and you could see the relief visibly wash over him. “I do, I completely understand. Thank you for being honest with me.”

Before he could speak, you continued, wanting to rush the words out as quickly as possible, “I guess … I guess if I’m going to be honest with you too, I’ve been having second thoughts myself. I … I started to have feelings. For someone else. And I felt terrible about it, the guilt has been eating me up.”

Perry swallowed hard. “Did you — while I was away did anything —“

“No!” you rushed to explain. “No, nothing happened. I didn’t do anything with anyone else I just … just having feelings for someone else made me feel guilty enough. I couldn’t do that to you. But I think it’s clear we’re just … not ‘the one’ for each other.”

He surprised you by standing up abruptly and pulling you to your feet as well, before giving you a tight hug. It felt good, like a fitting end to your amicable relationship to part ways amicably.

Of course things got a little less amicable later that evening when, after you handed back the ring and enjoyed a pleasant dinner, you both sat down with Amy to break the news. She seemed a little confused at first, but brightened when she learned that you would still be around for her.

“Okay,” she said after a minute, when you had explained the situation as best as you could to the 9-year-old. “That’s okay. You can date Uncle Rhett instead! I think he likes you.”

Perry’s face turned a bright shade of red. “What?!”

Despite Amy’s permission, you didn’t start dating Rhett after that.

In fact, you were continuing to avoid him, maybe out of lingering guilt or maybe out of a fear that he didn’t actually mean those words he said that night at the Handsome Gambler.

It had been nearly two weeks since you had laid eyes on that handsome cowboy when you suddenly had a knock on your door on a late, sunny Sunday morning. You turned down the music you had been playing while you cleaned — Linda Ronstadt, of course — and opened the door, only to come face to face with the man you had been trying you best not to think about.

“Hi,” Rhett said, a little shy as he ran his fingers nervously through his hair. You could see his ball cap tucked into one of his back pockets and a small bouquet of wildflowers in his other hands and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the sweet, gentlemanly gestures.

“Hi,” you responded, a smile growing across your face before you could contain it. “It’s good to see you, Rhett. Do you … do you wanna come in?” He grinned at your words; clearly he was a little nervous that you wouldn’t be as excited to see him on your doorstep as you hoped.

He pressed the flowers into your hands as he made his way into your apartment, his big hands wrapping around yours and his shoulders taking up almost the entire doorway. After you closed the door and turned to face him, you both stood there, smiling a little giddily at one another, though neither of you moved. The tension was broken when you both tried to speak at the same time, tripping over your words as you both tried to break the awkward silence.

Laughing, you gently placed the flowers down on your coffee table and took a step closer to Rhett. His big blue eyes were fixed on your face, bright and shining and hopeful. You gestured towards your couch, silently inviting him to make himself at home, but he just ran his hands through his hair again and continued standing.

“I know it hasn’t been very long since you and Perry … ended things,” he began and your stomach swooped like you were on a roller coaster. “But well, I talked to him a bit, and he’s not the biggest fan of the idea, but I think he’ll come around and … listen. What I’m trying to say. Can I take you to dinner?”

“What?” You asked, a little incredulous that Rhett Abbott, the guys of your dreams, was standing in your living room and asking you on a date.

“Let me take you to dinner. I can’t — I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m crazy about ya,” he said, grinning as he watched a small smile break out across your face. “We can take it slow if you want but I just — I meant what I said. I wish I had met you before Perry. That I had a chance to ask you out first. But asking you out now is the next best thing.”

“I’d love to go to dinner with you, Rhett,” you said softly, smile growing bigger and brighter as you watched his eyes light up with excitement.

“Yeah?” he asked, hopeful and puppy-like.

“Yeah,” you breathed, taking a step closer to him and breathing in the scent of his body wash, taking in the freckles across his nose and the dimples hiding next to his smile. “I’m crazy about you too. You remember when you asked me to tell you a secret?”

He nodded, one gorgeous, beefy forearm wrapping around your waist and tugging you even closer.

“That was my secret. That I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you ran your hands up Rhett’s broad chest, feeling the muscles that lay under his soft tee shirt. “I still can’t stop thinking about you. I … I’ve never felt like this before, about anyone. Just you.”

Rhett didn’t respond. Instead, he held you close, slid his free hand up to cup your face and kissed you. And you there your arms around his neck and kissed him back.

It was like every moment, every bump in the road, every teasing glance, every little joke, every whispered confession was leading to this kiss. Rhett held you like you were precious and kissed you like it was the last time he’d ever get to do so.

But it wasn’t the last time. It was far, far from the last time if you had anything to say about it.

You felt his tongue brush against your lips and you opened your mouth to let him in, head swimming as he gripped you tighter, breathed a little heavier, kissed you a little dirtier. A little more passionate, a little more intense — a little more like you had dreamed about all those late nights when you were still pretending that your feelings for him didn’t exist.

After he pulled away, chuckling softly as your lips chased his for a moment, Rhett rubbed his thumb against your cheek, sparking a wave of goosebumps down your arms. He grinned, panting a little, those blue eyes bright and staring right back at you in adoration.

“Wait a second,” you said, a little breathlessly as one more thought occurred to you. “Aren’t you leaving soon? You have a spot on a tour.”

Rhett shrugged like it was no big deal, but a feeling almost like panic was starting to grip you. “I have a couple of weeks. We can see where this goes and maybe if you want … you could come with me?” he asked tentatively.

You didn’t respond; you just pulled him back in for another heart stopping, mind melting kiss.

Much later — after the hours of kissing in your living room, after a first date where you spent so long talking and laughing at the diner that you were practically chased out by the staff, after a night of stargazing in the back of his truck, after those blissful first weeks of a relationship, a month of painful long distance and three more of you joining him on the road, after you both settled back in Wabang with another tour on the horizon, after Perry finally came around to the idea of you two being together — you sat in your mother’s kitchen with Rhett by your side and his grandmother’s engagement ring on your finger.

She had just broken out the old bottle of whiskey she kept on top of the fridge for special occasions, when she asked you the same question she had asked a little over a year prior, when you were talking about your engagement to Perry.

“Baby, do you love him?”

You looked at Rhett, took in his beautiful face, his beaming smile, his hair, a little mussed up because he couldn’t stop running his hands through it on your way over here, and the way those blue eyes always made you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth.

“Yes, mama. I love him awful.”

.

.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

My (embarrassingly okay-ish) 9-1-1 Sims

so I do not claim to be good at remaking real people in the sims... I want to go ahead and get that out of the way first and foremost

however I don't think I did *terrible* on these sims (some are definitely better than others) but with that said, here are my 9-1-1 sims

(please don't judge me too hard)

Evan "Buck" Buckley

the tattoo cc I made for buck is definitely way out-of-date, but alas i am too lazy to go back and make a new tattoo to add all of his current 6,000 tattoos (love your tats oliver but no thanks <3) Including that last shirtless pic to show them off a little better.

Eddie Diaz

I know that Eddie doesn't have Ryan's map&compass tattoo in the show but I love that tattoo on Ryan so I included it on Eddie. I chose this hair for him bc I wanted to like blend the length it's at now with his s6 style a little bit- very floofy yet tidy, but also not a schoolboy or slicked back to the gods.

Maddie Han

I think I spent hours trying to get JLH's face as perfect as I could in-game and honestly I don't hate the outcome? like it's definitely NOT perfect by any means, but I think Maddie is one of my favorite sims in terms of how she turned out.

Chimney Han

Chimney is where things started to go a little downhill for me... I don't know why, but after HOURS of working, I just cold not get him right so I eventually had to sit back, take a deep breath, and say 'this is as good as it's gonna get.' I'd like to issue my formal apology to Kenneth Choi for this <3 (pls don't judge too harshly I swear I tried)

Karen Wilson

Karen, like Chimney, was a sim I spent HOURS on trying to get right, but for some reason I just could not for the life of me perfectly replicate Tracie's face... and unfortunately when I first made these sims (a LONG time ago) there wasn't a hair that fit Karen perfectly until (imo) THIS one came with the Lovestruck Expansion pack... I did make the executive decision to give her light brown hair rather than the blonde/brown she actually has, because the blonde in-game looked weird on her. I know these aren't her classic dreads, but I feel like they evoke the general vibe of hers better than some of the options we have in-game.

Hen Wilson

so Hen turned out being one of my favorites. I really love the outfits I picked out for her (bc lets be honest Hen loves wearing some of the WILDEST fits on the show) but unfortunately, this game hates to give female sims just plain slacks that are higher-waisted, so I was stuck with a cc pair that don't quite match but what can I do

Bobby Nash

yet another sim who I feel like I missed the mark on- Peter Krause's face was just IMPOSSIBLE to replicate, so I did my best. I also made the executive decision to not go full-grey for Bobby bc then he looked ancient rather than just late-50s.

Athena Grant

All I have to say about Athena is ANGELA BASSETT DID THE THING (also the cop outfit does NOT do her justice in this- I promise I worked hard to make sure Athena was giving just as much mommy vibes as she does on the show in her other outfits) (she's also ripped as fuck in my game bc I said so)

May Grant

I have a love-hate relationship with this sim because I spent so much time trying to perfectly replicate Corrinne's face, but no matter what I did there was always something that was always just the tiniest bit off... she's definitely not the worst of these sims though

Ravi Panikkar

all I have to say about Ravi is that if they want to give him a boyfriend in s8 i am available, and willing to travel to shoot in Los Angeles-

Also, I DID make a Josh sim, but I accidentally deleted him bc my mouse battery was dying and it was glitching out and i misclicked the "yes delete" button rather than the "don't delete" on the "are you sure?" tab and I didn't feel like going back and finding him again in the depths of my library so I will have to remake him :/

Oh and I made Chris too but every child sim looks exactly the same so he doesn't look anything like Gavin, but that was out of my hands I fear 💀

But anyway, these are my 9-1-1 sims... I made these forever ago and went through last night and updated their hair/outfits, but I haven't touched their physical attributes since I first made them. I'm excited to start playing with them again 😭😭

[heterophobicdyke]

How do you deal with all the homophobia in radical feminism? I can't stand radblr anymore because of the constant lesbian hatred, all the "classic" radfem writers were polilezzes, and even when I try to meet up with feminists irl they are all bihet homophobes. I want to help other lesbians, but every radfem space I check out is just FULL of homophobia. Is there anywhere else for real lesbians to go?

I hate it too. Like I am a radical feminist because I believe in re-ordering society to eliminate male supremacy. That’s why I care less about microanalysing small behaviours like nail polish and dildos, and care more about brainstorming how to overthrow men - I find the navel gazing self-analysis/consciousness among radical feminists a product of our socialisation. It’s not “feminine” to want to rip society down and start again, so we’re expected to internalise - microanalyse how we, personally, are contributing to patriarchy, rather than taking an active role in warring with men who are the root of the issue.

I’m also a radical homosexual rights activist because I believe in re-ordering society to eliminate heterosexual supremacy. So it’s tough being in radical feminist spaces because they aren’t as radical about ending other forms of oppression - and it conflicts sometimes! For example, we should all be anti-gender because it not only affects women but homosexuals. Gender is misogynistic but it’s also homophobic. However, many radical feminists see gender as a solely misogynistic thing, they see homosexual people with a gender identity as the enemy when they’re equally as victim to gender as women with eating disorders are to beauty standards. Heterosexual women are given the most empathy under radical feminism and it’s almost gendery in how it evolved - lesbians are seen as more predatory all because they’re attracted to women… therefore we’re “like men.” To be a perfect female victim to patriarchy you must desire men and have them betray that desire by abusing you once you’re in love. And don’t you dare suggest these women not enter relationships with men at all! Because then you’re victim-blaming as a stranger to the cause, someone who just Doesn’t Understand. While there’s an argument for lack of agency in specific dire situations, like a woman resorting to prostitution to pay off debt or a drug habit, or a woman in a severely abusive relationship to a man not being able to leave, I think radical feminism must get to a stage where we admit we will never overthrow patriarchy while OSA women choose their male partners over the feminist revolution. They’re not compatible. That’s why many turn to liberal feminism and believe they can self-empower while in these close ties to men. As if these men aren’t oppressors living in your home and influencing your daily lives.

Meanwhile, the radical feminist sex wars (ongoing) involved “political lesbians”—some not even attracted to women at all—telling Actual Lesbians that in fact THEY are part of the problem because sexual desire towards women is a Man Thing that can only ever be objectifying unless you’re having sex in “equal ways,” laying side by side and microanalysing any sexual act for “manliness.” I’m kink-critical, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think people should be emulating rape or kidnapping or racism or pedophilia in the bedroom. But they went as far as to say strap on or sexy talk or whatever was all off limits if you considered yourself a feminist. But women who are not in an abusive situation marrying whole men? Poor babies.

I think radical feminism ate itself when it became about women checking themselves for “manliness” rather than distancing from Actual Males. Lesbians will always lose that because homophobia suggests any form of sexual desire for women is a man thing. Like throughout the sex wars and beyond, women in relationships with males were seen to be permanent victims unable to possibly live a female-centred life unless they got to appropriate the term lesbian, and be Better Lesbians than Actual Lesbians. We know that not all women are inescapably and powerlessly with men, and can’t leave, especially when you consider the radfem polls showing most are middle class with a university education. Where the attention went, and goes, instead, was towards women policing their own behaviour for evidence of “maleness.” Which is gender! Butches, especially butch/femme relationships, and any lesbian with a sexual appetite, were/are critiqued more than discussing how women can distance from actual males! As if masculine/feminine relationships and penetration are heterosexual, male things, and a woman exhibiting those things are worse than women who refuse to leave men who exhibit those things (because she’s so vulnerable and victimised!). In fact, women who are deemed “manly” for such things are seen as a bigger betrayer than men themselves because they see it as coming from inside the house. They can delude themselves into thinking they’re using men for sex and romance but are still fighting some feminist fight internally, yet actual lesbians with no dependence on men whatsoever are somehow class traitors for *spins wheel* not being feminine enough in how they have or want sex? Make it make sense!

Masculinity and femininity are simply what we associate with men and women. The problem isn’t really masculinity and femininity, it’s that they’re forcefully applied and naturalised to the sexes. Harmful beauty expectations like youthfulness and thinness are a subset of femininity designed entirely to make women small and childlike. In the same way “toxic masculinity” is the sort of masculinity designed to give men more power over women through naturalising aggression among men. But there are plenty of good/neutral things associated with men, therefore “masculinity,” that women can and do possess, such as short hair, desiring to penetrate, being good with money and wanting to protect/defend their partner. And some women (and men!) exhibit what we’d consider good/neutral “femininity”: nurturing, preferring being penetrated, in touch with their emotions, animal-lovers. These two types of women, as lesbians, being in a “butch/femme” relationship is not emulating heterosexuality because there is no male involved. But “political lesbians” and other radfem homophobes believe(d) they were/are the higher form of lesbian (despite being attracted to men) because they don’t engage in feminist-neutral forms of lesbian culture and history.

This distraction from the real issue—women living lives that focus on men including their partners—goes on. I think radical feminists misuse the victim label to apply to things they don’t want to change or address. OSA women “can’t help” focusing their life on men, so do we forfeit the revolution for it?

But I’ve come to terms with being a radical feminist regardless of those who have deluded themselves into thinking they can end patriarchy holding hands with a man, and all the homophobia that comes along with protecting that CHOICE. Because I rest easy knowing the barebones foundation of radical feminism—eliminating male supremacy—is what I believe and live my life doing, along with likeminded lesbians, febfems and celibates. I’m not going to stop identifying as a radical feminist because of fakers, in the same way I’m not going to stop identifying as a radical homosexual rights activist despite the TRAs thinking they, also, can reclaim the system and simply rework it in “self-empowerment.” Both homosexual TRAs and deluded "radical feminists" belong to the oppressed classes I want to be empowered, and that's where the solidarity ends. I don't have to bite my tongue to hold their hand in the path towards overthrowing heteropatriarchy. I won't be guilted into playing nice.

That’s how I deal with it.

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

Alhaitham and Kaveh as each other's 'home'

(This is a reworked excerpt taken from my Haikaveh essay! If you're interested you can check it out here or as a pdf <3)

Family is an important theme, particularly in regard to Kaveh, as the reason for his guilt is based upon his belief that he destroyed his own family. For Kaveh, family – home – is a place in which “words [are] not necessary” since companionship is valued above all:

Family is also important for Alhaitham, however, as there is a particular focus on the relationship between him and his late grandmother within his character stories, as her influence over him incentivised him to pursue the “peaceful” way of life he seeks to maintain:

After the death of his grandmother, Alhaitham lived alone and attended the Akademiya, just as Kaveh did as his mother left for Fontaine after his enrolment. Kaveh’s loss of family leads directly into him meeting Alhaitham. This establishes a direct correlation between Alhaitham and family, indicating that Alhaitham filled a role recently lacking in Kaveh’s life. This is relevant to Alhaitham, as he had enrolled in the Akademiya after the passing of his grandmother, meaning that, similar to Kaveh, he, too, had no family.

The idea of found family, as in, a tightly knit support network built with mutual sentiment between unrelated people, is introduced in Sumeru as the joint-thesis. Academic family is highly valued amongst scholars and comes into fruition through the working together on projects. This can be observed within the dynamic between Tighnari, Cyno, and Collei, as during the Windblume event, they describe themselves as a family formed outside of academia, even assigning themselves titles akin to a real biological family.

Alhaitham and Kaveh then established this found family in each other upon working together on a joint thesis, although additional scholars initially worked with them before dropping out. Their argument culminated in Kaveh ripping up their thesis, which effectively ended their friendship, and familial bond, made mutual by Alhaitham removing his name from the project. Kaveh, however,  is described to have pieced the thesis cover back together with “deep regret”, and placed it in his old sketchbook.

In this, Kaveh regrets the loss of his connection with Alhaitham, and the family that their joint thesis established. Although he has pieced together the thesis cover, their family remains severed as reconciliation is perceived as implausible due to their differences:

Most notably, it is the building which serves as Alhaitham’s house which is crucial to the motif of home. Due to their combined efforts in their joint thesis, the Akademiya gifted the two a research centre, as the results of their thesis had significant impact despite not being completed. When Alhaitham took up the property after graduation, he heard through a third-party, sent by Kaveh, that Kaveh was relinquishing rights of the property due to him not being in need of a house. It was after this that Alhaitham invested in the property, converting it into a house, where he took up residence, and then invited Kaveh to live with him, after the two met in the tavern. Although it is understood to be Alhaitham’s property, since Kaveh relinquished his right to it, Alhaitham considers Kaveh to be his “roommate” rather than a tenant, despite Kaveh paying rent.

Kaveh and Alhaitham split the chores according to Alhaitham’s Character Story, although they mostly fall to Kaveh; they both make attempts to decorate the house; presumably they eat dinner together, according to Alhaitham’s Story Quest where he excuses himself in order to have dinner, only to talk to Kaveh; the two can be seen to share a study; when ordering out, Kaveh orders extra for Alhaitham – a common enough occurrence for Alhaitham to be confident in relying on this. Rather than “cold” and “lonely” this conjures the image of warmth and familiarity. In this, it can be inferred that the two have created a home together.

Referring back to Kaveh’s understanding of “home”, as in a place in which words are not necessary, and linking it to the idea of companionship being more important than understanding introduced in his hangout. The latter idea consists of supporting a person, regardless of the ability to empathise with and relate to their particular struggles, should be valued over attempting to be wholly understood by people who are not willing to listen.

In this, Alhaitham is offered as a companion to Kaveh, where he cannot empathise with Kaveh’s artistic and idealistic struggles, but he is willing to listen to him, rather than offering words which cannot solve Kaveh’s particular problems.

By Kaveh’s understanding of “home” as a place in which people are at ease with each other and support another regardless, this can be seen within his relationship with Alhaitham. As Kaveh has pieced together their ripped up thesis cover with “deep regret” of what it symbolises, the severance of his and Alhaitham’s relationship, Alhaitham inviting Kaveh to live with him serves as mirroring actions of reconciliation.

Kaveh's idea of 'home' in encapsulated in both the building and the company Alhaitham provides. The building that had initially served as a physical representation of their severed harmony of ideals, aborted friendship and dissolved found family, has been transformed into a house, and now a home for the two to share.

[fmet]

I always go back to that moment in 206 when Eunyung has just left his family home for the last time and he calls out to Haejoon and Juwan, but there’s no answer. They had to leave, and Eunyung realized that for however long, he had been experiencing that confrontation with his dad (and mother) essentially without allies. Everything that he had done and said, with the perceived security of knowing there were people in the other side of that door who could hear them, was suddenly reassessed under a vulnerable and isolated lens, rather than a secure and supported one. He soon learns afterward that they were forced to leave by security because they were accused of loitering, but the gap in time that he probably spent thinking they left of their own free will while he was facing off his parents isn’t something that can be easily coped with.

Eunyung “saved” himself from his parents, and it wouldn’t have been as immediately liberating as it had been for him if someone else had forced that separation. But the adjacent people in his life that he (at least previously) saw as a support network and frame of reference for normal/abnormal relationships are just as invaluable as his own introspection and bravery during this arc.

His being taken care of by Juwan and Haejoon, where he has soup bought for him and he’s chauffeured around; his conversation with Marie, where he gets to witness the ramifications of domestic abuse as an outsider; and the countless conversations he had with Haejoon over this arc, where Haejoon insists to him that what he was and is going through is abnormal. By getting to sympathize with a fellow abuse survivor and by growing adjusted to having people like Haejoon advocate for him, he develops the beginning of an expectation that he can be understood and supported by these people. Not only that, but that he should be, or at least it’s something that he should strive for when given the opportunity. This perceived support ultimately culminated in him being able to say the things he did to his dad. He was the one who took that final step, there’s no denying the courage he displayed doing what he did, but it would have been impossible for him to focus this courage into a clear and aspired effort without getting a glimpse of what he had been missing growing up: predictable love and empathy.

Emphasis on predictable, because from what we know of Eunyung’s home life and the people that have supported him in the past, every ounce of love and grace he received was conditional and temporary. His abuse being unpredictable, the people who loved and supported him frequently withdrawing when they realize that he’s an actual person with idiosyncrasies and needs, and that advocating/caring for him takes real effort, and the defensive mindset needed to grow up in an abusive household would have warped his view of people’s rejection or acceptance regardless. Learning to expect that Juwan and Haejoon would be there when he needed them to be isn’t just unexpected of Eunyung: it’s juxtaposed to everything that he’s learned growing up on the streets. It’s probably only his being younger (i.e., more capable of change) that granted him the flexibility to expect care from someone again.

So, the realization that Haejoon and Juwan weren’t there when he thought they were dramatically shifted his perspective on their support, Haejoon’s in particular. Just after beginning to develop this alien expectation, something happens that allows him to dismiss it. Relying on these people in an emotional way has to be done very carefully, sparingly, in his mind, because at any moment, whether by freak chance or someone’s own animosity, lack of caring, etc, it could be ripped away from him. Similar to the unpredictablility of his father and mothers behavior, he approaches other people’s emotional states with the same fleetedness. If he can’t understand the way people think, if he can’t guarantee he’ll always be able to abide by their guidelines for humane treatment, or, now, if in Haejoon and Juwan’s case, he thinks his nature is incompatible with theirs, he will deliberately withdraw himself from them.

The same way he continues to reminisce and hold onto the haunted dorm as the visage of a fleeting home environment, he considers emotional homes such as Haejoon with that same impermanence. Only now, with concrete “proof” that it isn’t permanent, with Haejoon and Juwan not being there when Eunyung thought they would be, it’s much easier to distance from that emotional home as a way to protect himself. The title of “emotional home” can even be ascribed to inanimate objects and concepts: his childhood passion for theatre, his talent in cooking, his hairstyle. So many of the things he holds dear he is also deathly afraid of having. Having to decide between deprecative abstinence, fearing even more having lost it after experiencing it firsthand; versus reckless overindulgence, after experiencing loss in the past and thus losing the emotional sincerity he carries for something; summarizes a lot of his behavior, and it can especially be seen in the current arc. He holds off on signing up for theater until he’s racing against the clock (221), he deliberately distances himself from Haejoon and Juwan because he doesn’t consider himself as “adjusted” of a person as they are; but robs bald HR teacher dry when he takes him to eat and laughs at his efforts to connect with him. The latter being juxtaposed to his middle school-selfs response, because prior trauma from his middle school teacher jaded him to the concept of adults, and especially teachers, advocating for him unconditionally.

Eunyung’s deliberate absence from Haejoon’s life is both in his efforts to protect Haejoon’s body and to protect his own. In that same light, his hesitance in following his passions, while inadvertently mocking the systems of support he’s been betrayed by previously (teachers, parents, etc) are all in efforts to protect himself emotionally. If he never fails after trying, if he dismisses all outreach as insincere, if he’s never reminded of what he’s lost and how it hurt him, he doesn’t have to be hurt again. It looks like with the rest of this “Eunyung Baek Again” arc, we’ll probably witness more proof of this fleeting view of support/commiseration via this middle school teacher, portrayed in how he treats his high school HR teacher now. In the opposite vein, trying to actualize his passion for theatre (and being successful in doing so), seeing new and old people in his life advocate for him, and maybe even acknowledging that his HR teacher could be looking out for him, are just a few of the many details that could begin to deconstruct his emotional lines of defense. I’m not caught up with the spoiler chapters, but I hope (and really believe) that this will be the case.

[shitgoblindingleberry]

OKAY CAUSE LISTEN. (till character analysis let’s go) (apologies in advance this is LONGG)

if till is actually in love with mizi then there is literally no outcome in which him and ivan are happy.

because 1) he’ll never love ivan as long as mizi is alive, and 2) even if he thinks mizi is dead, ivan will only ever be a rebound, the second choice he turned to when mizi wasn’t an option.

however, i would like for you to consider that maybe, instead, the problem is that till doesn’t know how to properly process or identify his feelings. i would like to propose that maybe he misinterpreted his feelings for mizi as love when in actuality he views her as some unattainable idol to covet but not actually connect with (like parasocial relationships).

meanwhile, ivan was always there for him and slowly became a support system till didn’t even know he had. because even if he didnt feel LOVE for ivan, they definitely had a REAL relationship—arguably more real than anything he ever had with mizi. all of their interactions are just like. much more RAW than anything till ever had with mizi if that makes sense. because all we’ve ever seen him doing with her is admiring from afar and sacrificing things for her in secret that she never asked for, nor wanted from him. while with ivan they actually hung out with absolutely no expectations of anything between them (on till’s side at least. it wasn’t a performative relationship to be this self sacrificing person for ivan like it would’ve been if he were talking to mizi. which is ironically a much more healthy basis for a relationship. to fully see the person as being equal to you without putting them on a pedestal)

i think till’s way of coping with everything was finding someone else outside himself to live for and idolize. his entire life was built around mizi, every choice he made committed with her in mind (like when he chose to stay in the garden rather than escaping for her sake). and once she’s ripped away, he’s left feeling empty and aimless—the center of his very world is no longer there.

HOWEVER.

this is shaken by ivan’s death. even though mizi was always his center, he can’t exactly not be affected by someone who’s been at his side for YEARS. and, unlike with mizi, their bond was definitely real and very much tangible for BOTH sides (despite meaning different things for each of them). but when ivan died FOR him, till felt something that was very real and very confusing which was very much a mixture of raw emotions he wasn't prepared to face feeling from anyone apart from mizi. because while mizi is his ideal, i think his feelings about her were always accompanied by a sense of disconnect because they didnt have any actual basis for this bond beyond till simply yearning for her. but with ivan. they were friends. they trusted each other by this point, and ivan has shown that he cares for till REPEATEDLY throughout them knowing each other. and.

i think till subconsciously acknowledged that ivan was important to him, even if just as a background support in his life. someone he hung out with without thinking about it too much. and i think that sense of care came very gradually too. because ivan is a weird mf but he still managed to worm his way into till’s world, and now he’s a staple there, even if till himself isn’t aware of that.

mainly just my vibe here is that his feelings surrounding ivan are very messy and complicated (as real life emotions tend to be) and that wasn’t what till was looking for when he was younger. he needed something stable, something he could look at and idolize from afar. something he could dedicate his messed up life to without having to worry about other complicated feelings. and that was what mizi was to him. a purpose to live that was unchanging because no matter what till himself did or what happened to him, it didn’t affect HER. and that was comforting. but ivan existed outside of his little ideal. and he was a real person who (unfortunately :/ ) made till feel real things that were outside of his control. which wasnt what he needed when he was younger—he needed stability. but i think in the end he had the most chance of an actual developed, healthy, and consistent relationship with ivan.

that is, if bro wasnt dead 🙏🙏🕊🕊

[absolute-flaming-trash]

congrats!! #3. Movie Night + Mahito??

Ohhhhh I loved writing this so much, I hope you both like it!!

Warnings: Yandere, Implied forced relationship, Mahito

Word Count: 578

Additional Notes: Some spoilers for the movie Annihilation.

Movie night with Mahito was always a gamble.

While he could get absorbed in a book like nothing else, media was a different story. Unless the images on screen immediately held his attention or sucked him in with a great hook, he would either pester you the entire time with questions, or he would rip the film to shreds with his commentary.

Thankfully you’d managed to pick one out that had him captivated almost at the very start.

Annihilation was a trip, and you had said so when you mentioned the movie to him in the first place. He was doubtful, of course. What could possibly be so interesting about a movie that had aliens coming to Earth? However, as soon as you mentioned DNA and mutations, he clicked his tongue and decided it didn’t sound too terrible.

You were watching him more than the movie itself as it played. He was the most attentive you’d seen in a while, sitting beside you cross-legged on your couch - eyes glued to the screen of your TV. No smile of malintent on his face, rather one of pure intrigue.

You couldn’t help but smile yourself for once. “Still think it’s boring?”

“Shh.” He didn’t just put his hand over your mouth, no, he wrapped his entire hand around your face and pulled you against his chest, muffling your cry of surprise. You didn’t have to crane your neck up to know he was grinning. “You’ll ruin it.~”

In all fairness, he had a point. This was the sequence you enjoyed the most in the film and you figured he would as well as you watched from between his fingers.

The concept alone was, in your opinion, one of the most terrifying put to screen in decades.

“Oh my god! Help me! Help!”

Whereas the characters on screen were shaking with fear, Mahito was practically radiating with excitement as the bear on screen cried out in the voice of its last victim.

“Don’t react.”

Mahito giggled, the line from Natalie Portman’s character adding to whatever sick train of thought he had going on in his head - one that wouldn’t be hard to guess.

Not reacting to a monster like this would likely save the skin of the characters here, but in real life? Not reacting to a Curse never worked.

You’d know. You had tried.

He still had his hand over your face when all hell broke loose on screen. You tapped his hand with one of your free ones in a silent request, and he looked down at you.

“What was that? I can’t hear you.~”

You narrowed your eyes and he giggled again before taking his hand off your face. You weren’t completely freed though, his arm still wrapped around you and keeping your body close to his.

It was deceptively domestic.

“What do you think?” He whispered by your ear as the scene continued to play out. “Do you think the woman who died was aware of what this animal was doing? If her soul became bound to the same thing that killed her?”

You didn’t answer, partially because it was explained later on in the movie, but also because you’d learned that Mahito’s questions on this sort of thing were mostly rhetorical.

He placed a chaste kiss on your temple, something he only did when he was exorbitantly happy. You frowned, keeping your eyes on the screen.

“Thank you, doll, you’ve given me lots of new ideas.”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

[susagnon]

Class 1-A band

One last band reunion... before they're all shipped of to war.

I have wondered about this group’s dynamic:

Kaminari, Jirou, and Yaoyorozu first established a bond through surviving USJ together.

After that, Yaoyorozu and Jirou are often seen together, and the two of them might be each others closest friend in 1-A.

But Kaminari is probably the only one, who's friends with all of the band members:

I don't think I need to elaborate much on Kaminari and his electric bond with Jirou. Semi-canon shipping aside though, they're definitely friends.

Same with Bakugou. To him, Kaminari's probably the second real friend that he made in his life. (Or rather, Kaminari made himself Bakugou's second real friend.)

Tokoyami and Kaminari apparently got closer to each other through the band. Tokoyami's thoughts during Kaminari's big (that should've could've been more elaborated on) badass scene during the Gunga Mountain raid, outright stated, that he views the latter as a very good friend.

In one of my previous posts, I headcanon that Kaminari is one of Class Mom's favourite children. Canonically, Kaminari and Yaoyorozu are actually depicted as laughing with each other in the background more than a few times. I find KamiMomo to be an underrated background friendship, as I can see them being good for each other: Both are sensitive souls and often try to encourage others.

Kaminari also was the one, who immediately interupted Yaoyorozu, when she attempted to give 1-A and 1-B the "you are not obligated to fight against a lethal opponent with me" - speech. He instead assured Yaoyorozu that she would not face off against Gigantomachia alone.

But the rest of them? Aren't really close to each other.

...

Let's move from the most easy-going to the most difficult 1-A band member. In contrast to Kaminari, I feel like Jirou, Yaoyorozu, and Tokoyami would have a more “normal” reaction to the snappy Pomeranian.

As in, backing away and leaving it tf alone.

Because most people can't/ don't want to put up with unwarranted anger and disrespect repeatedly – understandable, especially if there's little to no positive feedback ever.

After the cultural festival arc, Bakugou and Jirou were put into the same team during the joint training arc. In which they were not shown to interact in any manner, that could be interpreted as significant to the relationship between them. No, I don’t count Bakugou saving Jirou by stepping on her, as a sign for a budding friendship.

I headcanon that Bakugou feels slightly uneasy around Yaoyorozu, ever since her assessment of him at the start of the school year. I don’t think that he held a grudge against her for that. But Bakugou is a very proud individual, even after his extensive character development. Having someone - especially someone who’s not a senior but a peer - rip apart that superior self-image he had of himself with such laser-sharp accuracy and soberness, seemed to have been… kinda traumatic to Bakugou and his gargantuan ego. I feel like he would subconsciously avoid being alone with Yaoyorozu. As in, if they happen to find themselves alone with each other in the common areas of their dorms, he will try to leave quickly.

Beyond each other's battle prowess, I don’t see Bakugou and Tokoyami having much respect for each other. Or to put it more mildly: Neither of them has patience for the other's antics.

Tokoyami is not amused. Funnily enough, in the gag comics, Dark Shadow - in the form of a little girl - made a ranking list of who/what she likes the most: Apparently, Bakugou ranks third, just behind Tokoyami himself, and Todoroki.

In short: Kaminari gels with everyone. Bakugou gels with no one... except those, who just blend out the majority of his verbal abuse.

No surprises here.

What about TokoJirou?

These two don't interact a whole lot, but the drama CDs gave us Tokoyami accompanying Jirou to a haunted house alone (Kaminari chickened out). It includes Jirou asking to hold onto the hem of Tokoyami's uniform and him reassuring her fears. (It's all very cute, go look it up on yt!)

Main media-wise, Tokoyami and Jirou had a moment of joint badassery during the final war. From that sole interaction, I’d say his dramatics and her snark go well with each other - be it directed towards each other, or united against the big bad.

Aside from that, we haven’t gotten much of Tokoyami and Jirou together, unfortunately. However, I believe they get along well. Based on the drama CD, it could even be inferred that they are friends, and most of their friendship just never made it on-screen.

What about TokoMomo?

We know that Yaoyorozu's self-confidence took a critical hit, after she lost against Tokoyami in the sports fest at lightening speed. She seemed to have been very shocked about how the match play out. We could assume, that she had been relatively self-confident previously. But we actually don't know, if it used to be more stable. And while Yaoyorozu's match with Todoroki against Aizawa gave her back some self-confidence; from then on, we're privy to more of her thoughts - most of them centered around self-doubt.

So either she'd never encountered a roadblock before losing against Tokoyami, and their match was to her, what her own assessment of Bakugou was to the latter. Or, Yaoyorozu has always been prone to second-guess herself a lot after encountering setbacks.

While he probably didn't pay half as much mind to his quick victory against Yaoyorozu as she did, we know that Tokoyami can be quite observant. I would have find his thoughts about their match, as well as the resulting consequences for Yaoyorozu's self-confidence, interesting.

How would these two interact, if they were to be alone with each other? How could they become closer friends?

During the festival, Tokoyami called Yaoyorozu "Yaomomo", using the affectionate nickname given to her by their classmates. Albeit not close, this might suggest a warm relationship between them.

Tangent: In contrast, Tokoyami still uses "Asui" instead of "Tsu-chan", despite Asui calling him "Tokoyami-chan". On the other hand, "Yaomomo" doesn't sound as intimate as "Tsu-chan". Thus Tokoyami might feel more comfortable using one nickname, but not the other. - Tangent end.

[soshadysoquiet]

More thoughts

So there's a lot of hate for the characters going on, especially Five and Lila.

Now do I hate the choices the show made for them, yes - I do not think they were truly thinking about the characters and I think they were unnecessary choices for the plot. I do not approve of several choices for the characters, but I could never hate any of the Tua characters.

This is long so rest is under the cut!

Luther: His life is a complete shambles - living in a condemned building. Luther has been seen to be savvy enough to land on his feet when thrust into the real world. His living there suggests he's lacking an ability to find somewhere to live / a support network, yet none of the siblings were worried about him or reached out to help. I thought it was odd that this was never addressed and instead he just gets mocked by Ben.

I DID like: that they brought back some of Luther's intelligence - working out the CIA was fishy. And I love that they kept up the kindness he had developed over the past few seasons and made him be so supportive. His reactions in the Five Lila reveal were hilarious.

Diego: Again, I didn't like that they made him so anti his own life an marriage, and I see a lot of people giving Lila a lot of heat and solely blaming her for the state of their relationship, whilst there are clear problems left over from S3, I do not believe that Diego's attitude would be easy to live with - not debating whether his attitude was fair or not, but to me he did not come across as supportive and doing his best until they got to go on a mission. I thought this was a pretty big disservice to his S1 character also, because Diego is clearly capable of surviving in the real world and used to it's restrictions, so for him to be the one reacting this strongly is bizarre to me. Plus I do feel that the family situation he has is one that previous-season Diego would have wanted and cherished, especially if he'd been able to have an 'out' - work or hobby - that could be where he then gets to feel a different sense of accomplishment. I would have made their season be about communicating that and them deciding where they were going to support each other (i.e. dif job for Diego, time for herself for Lila also). Also, I feel they really made him 'dumber'? Diego is insightful, open to points of view if given time, quite observant, smart at putting things together to solve a puzzle. Whilst I loved that he had his fam groaning when he put on his old outfit, the body-humour was unnecessary and irrelevant when you show a ripped man in 4 eps after that.

I DID like: Him throwing packages into windows. Him sticking his hand out to protect the passenger seat in the car like a true parent. Him winning reindeers for his kids. His enthusiasm. His love for his car, and that he still had a stubborn streak and wanted to always be in the thick of the action.

Allison: She was pretty good this season I thought, I think her and Klaus' relationship with saving him was a little bigger up this season, but we did at least see him keep returning to her in S2 and have background knowledge that they were close, so it wasn't toooo OOC for me, just a bit clumsily bigged up - make it more about her personal redemption arcs revolving around saving Whoever is closest rather than Klaus and you've got a winner that script was already written. I thought that the ending was particularly cruel on Allison, and I did not like the lazy way they retconned Ray. I also didn't love that they gave her (the only female in the siblings, I hasten to add) another damsel in distress bit at the end that took her out of play for the fight when the ceiling fell on her. Why does this always happen to Allison when if the guys get bricked on (Five) they're up and swinging. I've had thoughts about some mysogyny in the show from S3 and others, but this reminded me about it.

I DID like: Her and Claire having time together. her and Klaus. She was so funny in the horrific Five and Lila reveal moment. Love her assertive attitude in the face of their Dad. Her being the face of the cleaning brand was hilarious, and I love her defending the role to others, so funny. Her guilt over having to marigold Klaus under peer pressure too felt so very S1 Allison.

Klaus: I think the main issue I had here was that they didn't portray his powers returning very well, and it took someone else pointing it out to make me see that he got the mothers of agony dude to shoot him so he could get out of paying his debt - did not get it the first time. Also there's no explanation for how biker dude knows that because he's immortal he can summon ghosts and have them possess him for sex? Maybe he didn't and that's what the wind etc was for - a fake. But biker dude calls him a medium so IDK. Also they just piled Way too much trauma on him too quickly it felt so gratuitous, he's always been a bit of a punching bag but being tortured in S1 affected him more than all of this on top of getting his powers back for the first time in years. That we don't see if he knows how Ben died now?

I DID like: His obvious caution and desire to be reliable for Claire and himself. That we saw the negative sides of his addiction. His need for a little brown bag. His desire to be reliable for his siblings. His reactions in the Five Lila reveal were hilarious. That he floats now.

Five: Now I despised what they chose to do with the character - lazy, unnecessary, playing to fantasies and not the character's in my opinion. Would have loved to see them make Five find happiness another way, any other way - and there's a lot in the comics they could use - like him trying to set up an orphanage - how awesome would that have been to see? Do I BLAME the characters for ending up in the relationship? No, I don't think they would or should have, I don't think they were romantic and being alone with my sister for 7 years would not make me want to jump her bones. Ew, no offence to her! Now, I think that Five saw Lila as family - he even calls her that in S3E2(?) that she's family now. The writers / producers obv saw different (which is ew from Lila's end in particular given his 13yr old body when they met). I think it was a wrong choice. I can't hate the two of them for it, because I feel that there is literally some power from above that forced it - I'm going to call it insanity, but I keep being brought round to how I still wouldn't jump my sister's bones after 7 years in the apocalypse. The writers / producers basically decided 'if you're stuck alone with Anyone for 7 years, you'll sleep with them eventually!' poor, poor choice. Lord knows I pity anyone trapped with Them for 7 years now. Aside from the above, the lack of reaction to the apocalypse, the fact that we never see where he Lives, the lack of showing us how he got to where he is in the last Five years when he's an 18yr old with clearance to work solo in the CIA? I need to know How that happened. The fact that we didn't get to see him working out the subway map when he's clearly capable of it and let's be honest; the 7 years spent in the subway had to be a Doss compared to the Apocalypse - they knew stops where they could get food, they're safe below ground, he's with someone - I don't think it would have broken him half as much OR taken these two brilliant minds too long to figure it out, honestly the tube map did not look 7 years long. Plus, they would blatantly have run into the other Fives sooner - and that would have been funny. And they could have worked together. It's Bananas that they were there that long, and the time was poorly shown too. Also we never see him interact with Claire Gracie or the twins. Sadness. Anyway everything from Ep5 onwards was such a butchery that it was too poisoned to take seriously, though that's not to say the acting was bad when he faced off against Diego - he truly looked murderous.

I DID like: him gatekeeping his job from Diego - dick move, but That is a move on point for a Five who got pissed when Diego went to The Commission. Him still decisively taking action with danger / plans. That he's clearly kept close tabs on his family and spends regular time with them. His relationship Supporting Diego and Lila's marriage until The Episode. The diner full of Fives was excellent and I wish we could have spent more time with them / worked with them to realise more of their differing personalities.

Ben: I know that it was kinda amusing for Sparrow Ben to be such a dick, but for me he had no redeeming qualities, barely stepped in to save his last remaining sibling's life. I get that being in prison could make you a dick too - but he was like that before. Prison affected him Zero percent. He then drugged everyone against their will. Continued to be nothing but awful to everyone (with the Briefest pause when Klaus was actively dying) but I started and ended S4 wondering why they would treat him much differently than their abusive father. He was funny, objectively, but so awful to them and they all just took it. It would have been great to see 1% more softness towards them even, he doesn't have to become Old Ben, but there was nothing to like, though I might have forgotten bits. I would have liked to see some character development in 5 yrs, or something to justify why I should care that he gets Bennifered. Plus the Jennifer storyline was trite to me. Ben is the closest I come to 'hating' a character this season, but I don't hate him, I think the writers didn't bother considering what 5 yrs might do (if it's enough to make 2 siblings have an affair, it's enough to drastically change anyone's personality, team!), and they ended S3 showing A Ben looking so peaceful, I hoped he might get at least a little of that in S4. You can still make him a sourpuss but have Some less cruel moments.

I DID like: That he had some funny lines? Idk, he was difficult to engage with for me. No hate if you loved him though, that's just me. If I manage to rewatch ever I'll try to find more good.

Viktor: I just thought they cheaped out on his backstory a little, and I hoped he would come to realise he didn't need Reggie's approval like he thought he would - or that it was so cheaply won by saving his life, an act people do all the time, not because of Viktor's personality. I thought it was a real shame we didn't get to see him happy at all. seeing him light up in S2 was such a delight and he doesn't deserve to always look like he's suffering. He should have gotten a little bit of happiness - from his bar maybe? Something. Also another point for someone getting shot and not being shown to seek any medical care but being fiiiiiiiiiiiine...... ffs. Again, not Viktor's fault, that's the Show. Sad that he barely got to interact with Five at all.

I DID Like: Him blowing the windows in the car. Him staying on-point of the mission most of the time, well done Viktor! Good hero-ing! He had funny lines. Was nice to see him become an essential part of the team as he deserves.

Lila: Again as with Five, I can't hate her, because it's all so ludicrous. He killed her parents, her MOTHER full on says they 'had a history', that would give most people the NO for sure. Lila has also spent the last 5years watching this 13yr old grow into a 18yr old - and has kids, and I strongly believe her desire to have a family would also outweigh her desire to jump her brother's bones. Ew. I thought it was a real disservice to her character development to say that things had to go this way. I would buy her and Five 'cheating' / falling in love with someone they were stuck with for 7 years with if it was anyone outside their family. What TUA certainly Didn't need, was more psuedo-incest. I'm a bit sad that people are taking the line with Lila that as she's married and has kids then she should still be 100% faithful after 7 years no matter what. She's clearly shown to be unhappy, to her, it looks like Diego is too. How many years without someone Would it have been okay for her to hookup with? I don't think we can put a number on it. My problem is that: They decided a relationship to survive 7 years has to be romantic, and that they chose Lila and Five to do it with. For me Five is more the problem here than Lila, (in terms of characterisation) because we rightly (he's been a child in prev. seasons actor-wise whatever the POV is on character age) never see him want to engage in sexual activities, other than maybe (maybe) flirting with a waitress one time at Luther's bar? I think also telling is that Diego's actor refers to Five in an interview as Diego's "younger brother", which tells you Exactly what at least this cast member, and ergo his character from the wording considered Five to be. They see him as younger too, which makes me even more uncomfortable about it.

I DID like: that she wanted to do her own thing and still loved her kids - I think that's very valid, both her and Diego should get to have something they value outside of family. That she got her family back (though interesting how they fell in together? Would have been interesting to see That reunion) Her undercover work - very on point for her character. The moments with her and Five prior to Ep 5, which I will always choose to see as platonic, personally, for my sanity.

I just don't like hate on the characters or that X is irredeemable over Y. It personally gets me down when I see it, especially as is seems to be that some people bash one character while absolving any faults from another one.

I've been Very negative about S4, but did want to highlight some good bits in each of the characters, because I could never hate these guys, they just deserved so much better, all of them.